An Unexpected Cloister Walk
by Cathie Waldie
Thank you for the invitation to do a Cloister Walk during Lent. I hadn’t considered it—until I unexpectedly found myself in the Carman hospital (the town where I live) for a week.
I had contracted a serious bacterial infection that required strong antibiotics and IV fluids to help me recover. Because the infection was contagious, I was placed in isolation and couldn’t have any visitors. Surprisingly, that was okay. I began to think of it as an “unexpected hospital retreat of solitude.” It gave a whole new depth of meaning to my experience of Holy Week.
Despite the isolation, I was allowed to leave my room to walk the halls of the hospital, if I didn’t touch anything. Those daily walks became a welcome break—offering both some much-needed exercise and a change of scenery.
After reading your invitation to do a Cloister Walk, I decided to make those walks through the hospital halls my Cloister Walk. Interestingly (or providentially?), the Carman hospital was shaped like a cross, with four wards stretching out in the four directions and the nurses’ station at the centre.
My room was at the south end of the cross. I would walk up to the nurses’ station, turn west, then north, then east, and return to my room. While walking, I prayed:
“This is my Cloister Walk, O God, make it holy.”
And it was—though in a very different way than monks or nuns might experience in their monasteries. My Cloister Walk brought me close to visible signs of vulnerability and illness. I passed patient rooms and hospital equipment lined up in the hallways. It was humbling, sacred, and deeply meaningful.
Thank you—for the invitation that helped me see even a hospital hallway as a place of holy encounter.
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