A place built for listening

There is a place along the Cooper River where the world seems to exhale. The water widens, the oaks lean in, and the air grows quiet enough that you can hear your own heartbeat. This is Mepkin Abbey—3,000 acres just over two hours from Bluffton, yet far enough from the noise of modern life that time begins to behave differently.

The Trappist monks who live here call it home; retreatants call it sanctuary. And for anyone who has ever longed to step out of the chatter and clatter of daily life, Mepkin offers a rare invitation: come sit with the silence.

Retreats at Mepkin are simple by design. A small room. A bed. A desk. A chair angled toward large windows, facing away from the angular bite of modern development, in pleasant exchange for a chorus of birds, glimpses of forest creatures, and nature unfolding itself from daybreak to nightfall, as if that other busy world didn’t exist. Three vegetarian meals taken in silence in a room next to the monk’s dining hall. Seven daily prayer sessions. Retreatants are warmly welcomed to participate in a spiritual renewal that I’ve never found anywhere else. The monks are Trappists, Roman Catholic, but retreatants are not required to be Catholic, or Christian, or even a believer in any religion.

All seekers are welcome.

There are guided retreats, with meetings, classes, and discussions. I’ve been to some of those, but I prefer the private retreats – where there is no pressure to perform, no workbook waiting on the desk, no group dynamics to navigate. You arrive, you breathe, and you begin to remember what it feels like to be unhurried. For me, I need to retreat on a retreat.

Retreats are either 3 or 4 nights and begin with a brief orientation, and then you are free—free to walk the gardens, free to read, free to pray, free to sit under an oak and watch resurrection fern turn green after a rain. Free, most of all, to listen for the “still, small voice” that Scripture promises is quieter than wind, fire, or earthquake.

Silence is cherished here, though it occasionally comes with its own comedy. On my first retreat, unaware of any unspoken rules, I whispered a gentle “Hello” to a woman painting plein air near the path. She turned, lifted her brush, and with a dramatic sweep of the hand, commanded me to hush. Her expression was so theatrically horrified that I nearly laughed out loud. Instead, I whispered a tiny prayer for her—one of those quick, affectionate prayers to bless her heart for correcting me with such disdain for my ignorance.

Long before the monks arrived, this land was a rice plantation carved out by enslaved Africans and owned by Henry Laurens. Centuries later, Clare Boothe Luce and her husband, Henry, inherited the property. In 1949, moved by the needs of returning soldiers and the overcrowding at Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky, the Luces donated the land to the Trappist Order. Twenty-nine monks traveled south to begin a new community on the river.

The abbey grew to about forty monks at its height. Today, the community is smaller—around fourteen men—but no less devoted. Their days are shaped by prayer, work, and the quiet stewardship of the land entrusted to them.

Visitors often come simply to walk the gardens. The high riverbanks are shaded by ancient oaks draped in Spanish moss. Camellias bloom in winter, azaleas in spring, and volunteers and staff help the monks rake, prune, plant, propagate, and maintain the many garden areas and the circular meditative walking labyrinth, which requires an annual burn. There is also a small garden dedicated to the Charleston 9, for the nine firefighters who lost their lives on June 18, 2007, in the tragic store fire in West Ashley, Charleston. The only interruption to the hush is the occasional buzz of a speedboat on the river, a reminder that the outside world still exists somewhere beyond the trees.

Once you open yourself to Mepkin’s prayer-filled space, your mind begins to unclutter. Mepkin monks have one main mission. Prayer. They pray all day. Every day. You can feel it. It is yours for the taking. Peace. Tranquility. Joy. Supernatural Calm.

In April 2025, Mepkin dedicated and blessed its new Meditation Garden—an extraordinary addition honoring the enslaved who lived and labored there. I haven’t seen it yet, but I look forward to experiencing the seven meditations that guide visitors through reflection and remembrance, along with a life-size bronze sculpture of the Crucified Christ, Thy Father’s Hand, by artist Garland Weeks.

Nearby, the graves of the enslaved, behind the historic Laurens Cemetery, can be visited, and the Laurens Family Cemetery has been restored, with Henry Laurens and his son John now honored with Patriot medallions from the Sons and Daughters of the American Revolution.

Mepkin Abbey has recently expanded its accessibility. QR codes placed throughout the property allow visitors to access videos, historical information, and descriptions of the meditations and sculptures directly from their smartphones. Codes are located outside the Gift Shop, at the Luce Gardens parking area, and at the entrance to the Meditation Garden.

Many areas are wheelchair friendly, including the main garden paths, Meditation Garden entrance, Gift Shop, Reception Center, Retreat Center, and the Abbey Church. The QR code system is especially helpful for visitors with mobility challenges, offering full access to the garden’s interpretive materials even if they cannot traverse the entire path.

For visitors who are blind or have low vision, the QR code videos include spoken narration and historical storytelling, and the Meditation Garden features tactile elements such as textured stone and the bronze sculpture Thy Father’s Hand. The Abbey Church’s acoustics and chanting also provide a rich sensory experience.

For more information on Mepkin Abbey visit www.mepkinabbey.org

Tamela is a proofreader and book editor; she hosts paint parties for adults, art and drama camp for kids, and is the art teacher at May River Montessori. www.tamelamaxim.com www.artposseproductions.com