In the foothills of western Connecticut lies a place of peace, one whose equal is hard to find in New England—and quite possibly anywhere else in the United States. On these well-tended fields, where cattle and sheep rove, lives an abbey so lovely and genuine that if you find yourself lucky enough to visit as a guest, you may come to know what it feels like to breathe in a landscape where the air feels truly good.
My family and I have been incredibly fortunate to be connected to this place for the span of my lifetime. We try to take trips there on a regular basis—annually, if we can—to visit with the nuns who reside there and spend some time slowing down. It is a contemplative abbey, in line with Benedictine principles, where the nuns pray seven times a day on behalf of their fellow man and work earnestly to maintain their self-sustaining community.
A Special Place
To know the nuns of the abbey is to know some of the most incredibly generous, spiritual, intellectual, and compelling women you could ever hope to meet. I find that spending even a few minutes with them is enough to give my spirit a wash and a fresh outlook on life. You can bring your questions about faith, knowing you will receive an open ear without judgment or a prescribed opinion about how to proceed, and every interaction is thoughtful, purposeful, and truly delightful. I can’t say I’ve known any other group of people who collectively exhibit humility, joy, and sincerity like the nuns who reside at the Abbey of Regina Laudis.
Undoubtedly, each time I arrive at the main entrance, I get this incredible sense that I’m visiting somewhere truly special. And every time my visit ends, I leave feeling that the abbey is one of those rare places in the world where expectations meet reality.
Filling the Soul
One of the most beautiful ways to experience the abbey is to assist with the work required to keep its operations running. On a recent visit, we spent time gardening, weeding, and haying the fields. The haying was particularly laborious. Working alongside six nuns and about sixteen other volunteers, we hauled over 640 bales of hay (I believe), hoisted them onto trucks, and delivered them into two separate barns for storage. It took us a few hours, and by the end of it, we were covered in sweat and nicked with blood on the parts of our bodies that weren’t protected by clothing. We loved every second of it.
I could write pages and pages on the magic of the abbey—a book, even—but for now, I’ll leave the beauty that you can find there up to your own imagination. If you’re curious about learning more or planning a visit, you can check out their website [here]. As one should expect, approach the place with the respect it deserves. It is a truly sacred place—one that blends nature and spiritual contemplation in a way I think many of us are searching for, yet few are willing to commit to with even a fraction of the dedication the nuns of the abbey put forth every day. They are remarkable to know, and I’d argue it could improve one’s life just to know this place exists.
Which, I suppose, is why I thought I’d bring it up.
Pax.