Pendle Hill | |
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I took a semester leave of absence from Swarthmore in the Spring of 1999 to study at Pendle Hill, a Quaker center for study and contemplation.
Pendle Hill's campus is beautiful and relaxing, and it makes a wonderful place to spend an afternoon. There is a daily meeting for worship in the barn; weekdays, 8:30-9:00, weekends 9:00-9:30. It is a simple walk or drive from Swarthmore. |
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 A favorite old beech at Pendle Hill |
I DRANK DEEPLY from Swarthmore College's fountain of knowledge (an experience akin to taking a sip from a fire hydrant) and was still thirsty because I had not tasted the living water. Love, the future, and friendships were more intellectual pursuits than affairs of the heart. But I did not know the name of my thirst. I only felt a vague dissatisfaction with my life and the track it was following towards graduation, a computer job, gradual deterioration, and finally death.
I'd heard rumors of a mecca called Pendle Hill, a place of healing that could fill my emptiness. So I jumped my life's track and entered this mecca not knowing what to expect. I knew it was a Quaker community of retreat and contemplation. I knew there were classes which were not graded; there was an art studio, a library, and lots of trees. But that was the limit of my knowledge. I quickly discovered that Pendle Hill is not heaven, it's just a place. The people here are not saints. Most everyone arrives confused and lonely. But Pendle Hill is the hope of heaven because it provides a brief window of absolute freedom in which the community tries as best it can to nurture the hope that the Inner Light will shine in all of us. My friends ask, what did you do at Pendle Hill?" Well, what do you want to hear about? A catalog of my daily actions would make it sound so frightfully boring and monastic, but I lack the words to describe my inward adventure. I worked about 10 hours a week for the community. I helped in the kitchen, I cleaned bathrooms, and I was part of a crew which built a greenhouse out of materials found at Pendle Hill. I took classes on weaving, the gospel of John, and discerning our call. I read and wrote journal entries and short stories. But I also spent a lot of time on slow walks, I talked with the many great people and savored the flavors of their diverse lives. |