And, if we are unwilling to practice the gift of contemplation and find time for solitude, we miss so much along the way. Admiral Byrd's journal is filled with the fruits that silence brings:

I took my daily walk at 4 p.m. today in -89 degrees of frost ... I paused to listen to the silence ... The day was dying, the night being born -- but with great peace. Here were imponderable processes and forces of the cosmos, harmonious and soundless. Harmony, that was it! That was what came out of the silence -- a gentle rhythm, the strain of a perfect chord, the music of the spheres...

The ears of those whose hearts have listened to the word of God have first accomplished stillness in their life. And what an atmosphere such persons can produce, what effect their presence has; it is more than healing, more than medicine. One with a perfectly stilled and comforted and rested mind will at once raise up another who is going through distress or restlessness or pains or ill-temper or worry or anxiety. The very presence of one whose mind is stilled gives such hope, such inspiration, such sympathy, such power and life. All the heavenly properties run so smoothly and freely from those whose minds are stilled that their words, their voice, their presence all react upon the minds of others; and, as they still their minds, so their very presence becomes healing.

It is upon our willingness to listen and hear God speak that our prayer life from first to last depends.

The root of prayer is interior silence. We may think of prayer as thoughts or feelings expressed in words, but this is only one expression. Deep prayer is the laying aside of thoughts. It is the opening of mind and heart, body and feelings -- our whole being -- to God, the Ultimate Mystery, beyond words, thought, and emotions. We do not resist them or suppress them. We accept them as they are and go beyond them, not by effort, but by letting them all go by. We open our awareness to the Ultimate Mystery whom we know by faith is within us, closer than choosing, closer than thinking, closer than choosing -- closer than consciousness itself. the Ultimate Mystery is the ground in which our being is rooted, the source from whom our life emerges at every moment.

Before I left him, he said that we should pray. I tried to explain to him that I did not understand prayer, that I could not see the meaning of it. "Then pray that you will understand," he said impatiently. "Devotion is necessary in our path. The trouble with you is that you don't believe in God. You only think you do. If you knew what I know then you would pray ... a prayer beyond form. And where is your love and gratitude? How many times a day do you remember to say thank you? Until you can be truly grateful, you will always be in separation from God ... The prayer of which I speak is the prayer of your heart, the state where all life has become a prayer. Whether God comes with a thorn to wake you up or as the gentle wind, it is necessary that you are grateful and that you acknowledge God. For praise and gratitude are like the two hands of prayer. A great Sufi once said, 'Make God a reality and God will make you the truth.' Begin now. Do you not want to meet God face to face?"

"Tending soul requires patient and sensitive listening to inner needs and wants: resting when we need to rest, rather than when convention or habit dictates; respecting our desires for solitude even though others may consider it antisocial; weeping when there are tears to weep. With each compassionate and understanding response to our needs, with each authentic expression of who we are, our capacity to recognize and respect our nature increases. And inasmuch as and only to the extent to which we can acknowledge, allow and serve our own souls, we can acknowledge, allow and serve the souls of others.

You must have a room, or a certain hour or so a day, where you don't know what was in the newspapers that morning, you don't know who your friends are, you don't know what you owe anybody, you don't know what anybody owes to you. This is a place where you can simply experience and bring forth what you are and what you might be. This is the place of creative incubation. At first you may find that nothing happens there. But if you have a sacred place and use it, something eventually will happen.

Those whom God calls into silence will enter a vortex which will shatter them into little pieces. Looking here and there you will see fragments of a human being. You will behold you own fragmentation and wonder why you do not die. I do not know why. God knows. But in silence, God will gather together your fragments. And when you emerge from the sea of silence you will be thunder. And this thunder will pass beyond the galaxies as if you were a bird sent forth to preach the gospel to the whole universe ... People will not know where the thunder is coming from, but it will be coming from your heart. God has entered it through silence. Having put together your fragmented self, God now tells you to go on a pilgrimage to preach the gospel in a silence that is more powerful than any words you have ever spoken. For, silence is more powerful than any words, except one: the Word. It is by entering the Word that to some the gift of utter silence, and therefore complete speech, is given."

We go inward,
Into the depth of our life
Moving through the center point
Into the well of our Self
As deeply
As fully
As freely as we can.
Through the center point
Exploring the deep places
Exploring the deep places
In the silence ... In the Silence.

Rain ... for the eighth straight day ... rain. She was beginning to find the enforced confinement more bitter than sweet. Freedom of movement was as dear to her as freedom of thought, even though both were often misunderstood by others. The rain limited her general habit of walking daily -- hikes that cleared her mind to receive guidance and centered her for authentic living. Rain ... it also cleansed memories and scars of past mistakes.

He came home to a testy woman -- wife in his perception, companion in her dreams. His had been a lean day of purpose, distractions met with sighs of unacknowledged anger. They met at the door with a perfunctory kiss and he began to grumble recitals of a misspent day. She felt constrained and controlled by an unspoken inner fear of screaming ... STOP! Let's not talk, but simply listen to the rain.