Becoming a bishop was for me the most challenging and disorientating time in my religious life. After more than 30 years as a friar I was called away from community to live a busy pastoral life without a community. I found myself quite alone.

The responsibilities of a bishop were more than I expected or indeed could have guessed. As the years go on, I find myself more involved in the needs and struggles of my priests and the people, whether Catholic or not, of the diocese. This is full-time commitment which, when I am in Lismore, keeps me in the office from 8:30 am to 5:00 pm each weekday, and often includes work in the evening and over the weekend.

However, the real work of the bishop is leading his people on the path of holiness and knowing the needs of the people so as to do what he can to help them. In all of this he must be able to see goodness in others so as to respond to their needs and bring God into their lives. The God whom we can see draws God out of us.

When I first arrived in my diocese I was overwhelmed by loneliness, which was particularly acute on weekends when I did not have my office staff around me. I knew from St John of the Cross that I had a choice. Either I run from the cross or I embrace it. Either I distract myself on the weekends or look loneliness in the face. I chose the Carmelite way and suffered the aloneness. I did this for 18 months until aloneness became a place of solace. I knew that if I ran, I could never be the bishop of my people.

The spirituality of Carmel is eremitical. Our ancestors were hermits for whom the aloneness was the cell in which they found God. As a man who had lived communally all my life, it was when I was placed in the aloneness that I discovered the power of Carmelite spirituality.

Where possible I established a regularity of prayer, work and solitude in my daily life. Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer are the pillars of my day. Rising early, I have time for the Divine Office and silent prayer before the rigours of the day. After work, I have my Office and silent prayer. Often the silent prayer is less than the full two hours, but I think I can only do what God allows.

For the rest of the day, I try to follow the teaching of Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection in the Practice of the Presence of God.

In all of this, my personal space and time alone have become more important. Without it I could not prosper as a bishop. I find myself falling back on my Carmelite formation and life. I don’t think that I am less Carmelite; I live my Carmelite life differently. God did not call me out of the Order but added bishop to Carmelite. If I was not a Carmelite, I don’t think I could be a bishop.

The great gift given to me is the goodness which I have seen in so many people. I never saw this as a friar who had very limited engagement with people outside the priory. Seeing goodness in ordinary people who struggle to live their lives has been a blessing. Seeing the extraordinary love which parents have for their children and being invited into their lives – what a gift that has been. This has brought something new to my life and expanded my own heart. As a new bishop I asked myself whether I would have enough love to reach out to the people in the pews. I don’t know whether I will ever have enough love, but God has given what I know I don’t have.

Now in my tenth year as a bishop, I believe that Carmel has become a part of my diocese. Through my friendship with the bishops of Australia, our spirituality is now part of what they can draw on.

Carmel is part of the daily life of a Carmelite bishop; it informs his ministry and guides his leadership.