31/10/2025
There’s something about the smallness and surrender of the Monastery of Evangelismos Mounde in Ikaria, Greece — near Christos Raches - a centuries-old nunnery that feels like the right beginning for November. Light through stone, silence through centuries — everything pared down to what endures.
When I was there, the air was heavy with stillness and thyme. The monastery walls seemed to breathe — cool stone against my palm, dust catching the sun like incense. I remember the faint sound of a bell in the distance, low hum of bees in the lavender outside the gate, and the smell of crisp, honeyed loukoumathes being prepared in the tiny cafe nearby. Time felt slower there, stretched thin between light and shadow.
Located near the village of Kastanies in the Raches region of Ikaria, this quiet nunnery was founded around 1460 A.D. It remains a female monastic residence, where each narrow window and uneven stair seems shaped by devotion itself — a place where every shaft of light feels deliberate, patient, holy.
Just above the monastery, a small stone chapel hides in the hillside — a hollow of faith and humility. To enter, you must crawl on your belly, pressing through a narrow opening into the cool dark where candlelight flickers against rock.
It is said that prayers whispered here travel easily, carried by wind and devotion alike. From the doorway, the whole Raches valley opens below — olive trees, sea, and sky all shimmering in a single breath of stillness.
I carry that moment with me into November — a reminder to enter softly, and to listen for what has weathered time itself: humility, light, and the quiet beauty of endurance.
