A Silent Retreat at a Monastery Taught Me How to Hold My Space at 52

A Silent Retreat at a Monastery Taught Me How to Hold My Space at 52

I was a talker, a people pleaser. If I was at a party with someone who was shy and nervous, I would find them and offer some hot dip, a cocktail, a sympathetic ear or all of the above. At dinner parties, I was often seated between strangers by the host on account of my reputation as a chatterbox. I made the smallest of talk, and I had more icebreakers than the Navy. This had been my training, my muscle memory from childhood. “Be charming,” my mo…