Sister Claire is referring to Pope Francis' 2015 letter on ecology, in which these Dominicans found confirmation of their holistic way of life. “Human communities and their cultures are inseparable from the environment in which they live,” explains Sister Elizabeth, who is completing a master's degree in integral ecology. “There is no separation, but an interconnection. They develop together. Nature influences our food, our homes, our work, and even our language. Everything is connected.”

A few of the sisters make candles or soap for sale. They try to meet their needs by creating quality products, but without overproduction or excessive profit. “We want to get rid of plastic,” says Sister Claire. “That’s why we wrap our soaps in recycled cardboard and are developing an excellent shampoo bar to avoid plastic bottles.”

This harmonious relationship with nature was discovered by the nuns in Squamish, a town whose name in the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh language means roughly Mother of the Breath, or Wind. “For me,” whispers Sister Claire, “it is the Holy Spirit.” The town sits at the meeting point of warm air from the land and cold air from the sea, creating powerful winds. For centuries, the Indigenous peoples of the area have forged a resilient culture and an intense connection with creation. The longevity and fragility of the Upper Squamish Valley’s glaciers remind the nuns daily of the rich and vibrant culture that has existed here since time immemorial.

The Dominicans maintain good friendships with their closest neighbors from the Skwxwú7mesh Úxwumixw. After a church service in the town, an Indigenous woman was actually among the first to welcome the sisters to the area. Later, a local Indigenous spiritual leader came to bless the sisters' land, symbolically drawing a connection between the two religious traditions.

Throughout its 800-year history, the Order of Preachers has encouraged its members to share the fruits of their contemplation through the arts. The life of Fra Angelico, the renowned Dominican friar and Renaissance painter, testifies to this, and the tradition continues in Squamish. “We’ve always appreciated the gratuity of the arts,” says Sr. Claire. “I believe that when people are happy, they become creative.”

Sister Isabelle, the novice mistress responsible for initial formation, danced ballet in Lyon before entering the monastery. Young sisters Marie-Étienne and Elizabeth both studied fine arts. Sister Marie Thomas paints icons, while Sister Mary Magdalen practices and teaches wood carving. Sister Imelda Marie plays the violin, while other sisters play the cithar or the kora (a string instrument from Senegal) to accompany the monastery’s liturgy.

In the pottery workshop, Sister Marie-Étienne explains that craftsmanship is a way for her to refocus: “In a silent life, you are often faced with yourself. By concentrating on the work, art is a way of stepping outside of yourself.”

Although all the nuns wear the same habit (blue for work, black and white for prayer), they are far from being carbon copies of one another. The freedom and diversity of this group of women is striking. Sister Isabelle corrects a common prejudice: “People without faith sometimes think that we live like prisoners or people in a cult, and that we must renounce our personality. But that is the complete opposite of what we experience! When you give your life to God, you become yourself, much more than in any other life where you can hide behind a persona. In the monastery, you cannot escape who you truly are. Our order’s motto is “Veritas.” Here, we live the truth within ourselves.”

This quest for authenticity lies at the heart of Sister Marie Thomas’s journey: “In the world, you constantly have to promote yourself. You decide what you want to do and how you present yourself to others. It’s like a self-creation. Before, I worked in communications and marketing, and in that world, everyone creates their own ‘profile.’ But in the monastery, I have to accept the deconstruction of all these idols or false images of myself in order to be continually created by God. I don’t create myself. I accept being created as the woman God wants me to be. It’s the opposite of social media!”

For the novice mistress, it is essential to learn to base one’s life on something unshakable: “For us, it’s the love of God. It’s far beyond any human experience of love. It’s a gaze upon you that makes you exist, something you don’t deserve, and it lasts, despite all our flaws and mistakes. God doesn’t change. And His love for us will never pass away.” Much like those ever-present mountains that draw our eyes at all times of the day.

For Sister Elizabeth, these peaks represent a space untouched by human activity, retaining an original purity. "We accept the high mountains as they are, without trying to change them. Their presence is a gift." They possess intrinsic value in and of themselves, whether or not they can be exploited or monetized. "This is a lesson for us humans, prompting us to reconsider our relationship with God's creation."

Sister Claire also finds a teaching for her monastic life: "These glaciers simply exist, at rest. They stand before us, available and pointing toward Heaven, like God inviting our contemplation. And from their apparent stillness and uselessness, springs nonetheless emerge, nourishing the valleys. To me, they are an image of prayer—remaining in the presence of God, seemingly 'wasting time,' but trusting that streams of living water will flow from it to irrigate, heal, and bring life to the world."

But is there a special technique for prayer? “I wouldn’t call it a technique,” explains Sister Isabelle, “but an art of prayer. Saint Dominic wrote practically nothing and never gave us a technique. In our Order, there is an emptiness. And everything starts from this emptiness where one must be attentive and receive the Word of God. If there is one thing to do, it’s to allow this capacity for attention to be cultivated within ourselves. To have this inner space that allows us to be attentive to God and to our sisters.”

The art of prayer takes different forms. Sister Isabelle elaborates: “In lectio divina, I realize that there is someone speaking just for me, and that someone is God. In the liturgy, I become aware of carrying humanity into a space where Heaven and Earth meet. In the psalms, what’s striking is that there are many prayers of distress. It’s the privileged place where I support my brothers and sisters who suffer. Contemplative prayer, on the other hand, is an act of presence. It is, above all, the place where one ‘does’ nothing but be in silence. And for us Dominicans, there is also study, which is a form of prayer and a means of deepening the mystery of God. In short, our life is really about being soaked in the Word of God.”

“Fraternal life is like an orchestra,” says Sister Isabelle. “The flute can’t be the drum. If one instrument dominates the others or is always in the center, it’s no longer an orchestra. Harmony arises from listening to each other and from sharing each person’s gifts. When the members of a community are happy and united, one can perceive the harmony.” “Here,” adds Sister Claire, “fraternal life is very beautiful…and fun too!” Even from the other side of the cloister, one can often hear the sisters singing and laughing heartily during their recreation times.

“We must believe in the mystery of fruitfulness—that what happens on the small scale of our community can bear fruit for the entire world,” says Sister Claire. “To believe that the acquisition of the Holy Spirit by one person can save a multitude. Either you believe this, or you don’t. But if you do, our life finds its full meaning.” A meaning revealed in the name of the monastery: Queen of Peace. “Peace is such an important challenge for our time,” she concludes. “Yes, we pray for peace, but we especially try to live peace between ourselves, with our Indigenous sisters and brothers, and with all of creation.”

From the chapel to the glaciers, one can hear the sisters chanting: “Mountains, bring forth peace for the people” (Ps 72:3).