Quoting Silence, January, 2026:
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A post throughout each week of the month, offering quotes and resources linked to one contemporary author who writes about silence and its role as a spiritual discipline. |
Different weeks of the month offer different resources, as below:
- first week: a short, image-backed quote with links to associated resources in the accompanying text
- middle weeks: a short, image-backed quote taken from a longer one by the author, found below the image
- last week: a short quote and questions to encourage reflection on all the month's quotations and images
Sarah Sands, our author for January, has had a lengthy career as a journalist and writer, working for well-known newspapers and the BBC.
You can find out more about her book,The Interior Silence: 10 Lessons from Monastic Life (London: Short Books, 2021), from which this month's quotes are taken, by clicking here.
You can find out more about her book,The Interior Silence: 10 Lessons from Monastic Life (London: Short Books, 2021), from which this month's quotes are taken, by clicking here.
Audio resources
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For a 5 minute audio guided meditation to use with each week's short quote, click play on the image. To pause and restart click the same place.
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An audio guided Lectio Divina for the longer quotes. Click play on the image above. Allow 10-15 minutes for this. For a text version, click the button.
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Monday 5th January, 2026
Sarah Sands, The Interior Silence: 10 Lessons from Monastic Life (Short Books, 2021), 95.
Image: Heather Wilde, Cheshire, UK, unsplash.com/@heather_wilde
This month's author, Sarah Sands, comes from the hectic world of media and journalism. Born in Tunbridge Wells in the 1960s to parents in the Foreign Service, and educated at Kent College - a Methodist (now interdenominational) independent boarding school for girls, she rose quickly in the ranks of many well-known papers including the Evening Standard and Daily Telegraph. She was appointed as the first female editor of the Sunday Telegraph in 2005, had a stint as Editor-in-Chief at Reader's Digest, and eventually became the editor of the London Evening Standard.
In 2017 Sarah Sands was appointed editor of BBC Radio 4's Today programme (I remember hearing her name just before 9am on many an occasion!), where she worked specifically at developing a higher profile for women's voices on air, broadened the programmes remit to include more coverage of non-political subjects and introduced more in-depth journalistic 'specials' features to the show. For her comments in the renowned Church Times ''back page' interview with Terence Handley MacMath - see here. And for a more social media facing interview in The Times that addresses 'Boris', Today and this month's book, see here.
As first Brexit and then Covid hit, and programme-making moved out of studios, more time working at home in her garden raised Sarah's curiosity about a section of her garden wall at her home in Norfolk which was said to be part of a monastic ruin from Henry VIII's dissolution of the monasteries in the 16th century. This month's book is an outworking of the pull that she and so many felt towards a quieter pace and volume of life in the Covid years, in which she explored monasteries and convents in the UK, Europe, the Egyptian deserts, Japan and Bhutan. For a 45 minute YouTube interview of Sarah talking about the book, see here.
Almost inevitably, Sands resigned from Today: the book records her wondering whilst on a monastic retreat how much the excitement of political news really mattered, although her final resignation is a different story. Since then, she has been a chair of the G7's gender equality advisory council, deputy chair of the British Council, a trustee of the Science Museum, and a co-founder of the Braemar Summit - an annual, high-level think-tank gathering in Braemar, Scotland, that brings together influential thinkers, scientists, policymakers and entrepreneurs for discussions on major global challenges (topics include climate change, biodiversity, AI, and the future of humanity), seeking to foster collaboration and dialogue across diverse disciplines. See here and, for Sarah's own take on the 2022 gathering, here.
In her early 40's Sands wrote several 'light', popular novels including Playing the Game (2003), Hothouse (2005), and Villa (2006). Her much later book about the end of life, Hedgehog Diaries, emerges from the illness and death of her elder brother, where hedgehogs become a metaphor for hope: see here.
Since 2025 she has been writing a regular reflective 'Notebook' column on faith and spirituality for The Church Times. See here for an example (which also reveals the identity of her relatively well-known musician brother!).
Monday 12th January, 2026
Sarah Sands, The Interior Silence: 10 Lessons from Monastic Life (Short Books, 2021), 166.
Image: Mikael Kristenson, Sweden, unsplash.com/@mikael_k
The short, image-backed quote, above, is taken from this week's longer quote, below, on pages 166-168 of Sarah Sands' book. To read more about her book, from which this month's quotes are taken, click here.
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Listen to this week's longer quote:
To listen to the longer quote, below, being read, click the play button on the small version of the image next to or below this text. To see the image full screen as you listen, click the expand screen icon in the corner. |
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I asked Sister Stephanie about the mediaeval teachings of monks – that they should aim to reach a state of such peace that they could die without fear, because they had been preparing for it all their monastic life. She explained that I was talking about contemplation, which is the rhythm of the Carmelite day. Just before compline, the final prayers of the day, there is a short period of self-examination, in order to clear your conscience. The final prayer of compline is: Lord grant me a quiet night and a perfect end. Sister Stephanie said she sleeps like a log after this.
This is the gift of retreat.
She clasped my hands again in hers and wished me a good night. I returned to my room; the silence here was much deeper than I am used to. No cars passing, no television, no voices. I picked up my phone, I remembered, I put it away. I started to feel the beginnings of interior silence. There were no distractions. I thought of my day. There was quite a lot to examine in my conscience. I thought of priorities; how much did the excitement of political news really matter? I thought of my family and loved ones, wishing them well with the calmness of solitude.
I did not require anything of them tonight.
The bell the next morning sounded at 4.30am and then again at 5am. These were Today programme hours but without booze and social media. It made a big difference. I rose and looked at the little garden and the shadow that was becoming a tree. The lights were on at the nunnery, as prayers began. …
The lessons of St John of the Cross were designed for self-isolation: “Speaking distracts one, while silence and work recollects and strengthens the spirit.” Here in lockdown I could glimpse Sister Stephanie’s journey: the less we have around us the less we need.
I asked Sister Stephanie about the mediaeval teachings of monks – that they should aim to reach a state of such peace that they could die without fear, because they had been preparing for it all their monastic life. She explained that I was talking about contemplation, which is the rhythm of the Carmelite day. Just before compline, the final prayers of the day, there is a short period of self-examination, in order to clear your conscience. The final prayer of compline is: Lord grant me a quiet night and a perfect end. Sister Stephanie said she sleeps like a log after this.
This is the gift of retreat.
She clasped my hands again in hers and wished me a good night. I returned to my room; the silence here was much deeper than I am used to. No cars passing, no television, no voices. I picked up my phone, I remembered, I put it away. I started to feel the beginnings of interior silence. There were no distractions. I thought of my day. There was quite a lot to examine in my conscience. I thought of priorities; how much did the excitement of political news really matter? I thought of my family and loved ones, wishing them well with the calmness of solitude.
I did not require anything of them tonight.
The bell the next morning sounded at 4.30am and then again at 5am. These were Today programme hours but without booze and social media. It made a big difference. I rose and looked at the little garden and the shadow that was becoming a tree. The lights were on at the nunnery, as prayers began. …
The lessons of St John of the Cross were designed for self-isolation: “Speaking distracts one, while silence and work recollects and strengthens the spirit.” Here in lockdown I could glimpse Sister Stephanie’s journey: the less we have around us the less we need.
Monday 19th January, 2026
Sarah Sands, The Interior Silence: 10 Lessons from Monastic Life (Short Books, 2021), 173.
Tadeusz Zachwieja, Wroclaw, Poland, unsplash.com/@haiku_ted
The short, image-backed quote, above, is taken from this week's longer quote, below, on pages 172-173 of Sarah Sands' book. To read more about her book, from which this month's quotes are taken, click here.
The short, image-backed quote, above, is taken from this week's longer quote, below, on pages 172-173 of Sarah Sands' book. To read more about her book, from which this month's quotes are taken, click here.
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Listen to this week's longer quote:
To listen to the longer quote, below, being read, click the play button on the small version of the image next to or below this text. To see the image full screen as you listen, click the expand screen icon in the corner. |
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I am learning to adjust my sight to the palates of sunrises and sunsets, darkness into light and light into darkness. I am also preparing myself for an inner quietness, for I have booked in at the Abbaye Notre-Dame de Sénanque near Gordes … a Cistercian monastery, like my fragment of garden wall once was.
I had feared that the monastery would cancel my visit; everyone is jittery about a second wave of Covid and quarantine rules are being tightened.
A Trappist order of Cistercian monks hidden in a valley, surrounded by lavender fields, is statistically unlikely to encounter Covid. The monks have no need of company and are sustained by the vegetables they grow. If ever there were a time to seal themselves completely from the outside world, it is now.
But when I email to check, I am told that I am welcome to stay. I type rather than call because I do not imagine that picking up the phone appeals even to the administrative staff.
It is the prospect of silence that most intrigues me. As a lockdown starts to lift, we are relearning the rhythms of conversation. I talk incessantly to my grandson, who is starting to follow what I am saying. Some words fill him with mirth. “Canoe” is one. “Hua Wei” is another. I am encouraging him to speak so that he can be fully human.
But Trappists believe that talking disturbs inner contemplation. It is in silence that they experience heavenly peace. They aspire to be less human.