“Get thee to a nunnery!”
I’m serious.
Too harsh?
As we all know this command is from the Bard’s Hamlet. In Act 3, Scene 1, the title character, The Prince of Denmark, distraught and of tenuous mental state, delivers it with vitriol to Ophelia. And it has remained in our collective repertoire of famous theatrical one-liners for over four hundred years.
Let’s take it down a notch…hmm...how about with sound mind and fair heart I do declare: get thee to The House of St. Bridget in Assisi, Italy.
Recently, I did. ’Tis true, ’tis true, and loved it!
What? How did you, a country lad from West Auckland, New Zealand end up there?
To quote another of Hamlet’s lines: “That is the question.”
And I’ll address it, so don’t get a bee in your black veil. But first some context. The House gets its name from Saint Bridget (1303-1373). “The Mystic of the North” was a Catholic born in Sweden to a wealthy family related to Swedish royalty. As a child she had mystic visions, and after the passing of her husband in 1344 went on to found the Bridgettines (Order of the Most Holy Savior).
In 1349, she travelled to Rome and remained there (she did make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem) until her passing. 1n 1999, Pope John Paul II declared Saint Bridget one of the Patron Saints of Europe. She is also the Patron Saint of widows and Sweden. The Swedish apple doesn’t fall far from the tree for Saint Bridget’s fourth child became Saint Catherine of Sweden.
Today, besides Europe, The Order of the Most Holy Savior of Saint Bridget has a presence in the Middle East, Asia, North America, Central America, and Cuba.
And in answer to “that question:” my daughter Dani recommended it to me. She betook herself there on a trip to Italy and is a lass who appreciates transcendent experiences. (The kiwifruit doesn’t fall far from the vine.) By email, I simply contacted Sister Marcellina in Assisi and made a booking for my wife and me.
I acknowledge as a tourist, you have many choices in accommodation from the usual chain conglomerate suspects, Airbnb, to even boutique hotels. I posit, considering the location, location, location of Assisi what could be more boutique and budget-friendly than The House of St. Bridget in Assisi.
The simplicity, silence and solitude offered there permits one to step back from perennially taking selfies to a more introspective, “Know thy Self[ie]” (tip of the Jacaru to the famous Delphic maxim inscribed on the Temple of Apollo). A chance to be still in body and mind; “be still and know that I am God” stillness.
Please don’t assume that you must be Catholic to stay there. I’m not. Whether you’re an atheist, agnostic, sinner or saint, C & E in mass attendance or as Catholic as Pope Leo XIV—all are welcome.
As the website of the Order of the Most Holy Savior of St. Bridget states, “The enchanting countryside and the warm welcome of the Bridgettine sisters makes this house an ideal place for a pleasant holiday.” Let’s take it up a notch: more pleasant, nay, most pleasant holiday!
The countryside, aka, The Green Heart of Italy provided us the opportunity for truffle tasting and a museum tour near Perugia; wine tasting in Montefalco; olive tasting in Monte del Lago; a ferry ride to Isola Maggiore; and the highlight of the trip: paying prayerful homage and respect to Saint Clare and Saint Francis at their respective basilicas in Assisi.
Our last day concluded with a seven o’clock morning mass in italiano, a simple but scrumptious breakfast with our hostess Sister Citadal, a nun who beamed a gracious smile with service and humility. Afterward whilst packing my suitcase and woofing down fresh olives my wife Teresa had purchased from a street vendor, I did see from my window a rainbow, a divine assurance that all is well.
Indeed.
So: get thee; go thee; you’ll thank me!
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