What is it that we do when we come together on alternate Tuesday evenings? The word SILENCE is the key to answering this question. The first time we met we agreed that silence would be the container for our prayers as well as a form of prayer in itself. We sit in a circle on floor cushions with our eyes open or closed ... It makes no difference. What matters is that everything that emerges from this silence -- a word, an image, a line of scripture or poetry, a probing question -- is held by each of us as if it is our collective heart speaking. And it is this heart that we listen to and follow as we pray ... Although we do not always know the way to God, our collective heart reminds us again and again as we sit together in the silence that God knows the way to us.
The first three notes -- the root, the fifth, and the minor third -- seemed entirely magical. In their simplicity he heard the implication of the whole piece itself, and from that, from his awareness of the fugue, came an awareness of all-of-music, as if all notes were contained in any single note. The perception was evanescent, but so powerful as to wipe away thoughts of himself. Music is here! Music has been here forever and always will be here! It was so much larger than life, so ineluctable strong, so potent an indicator of a kind of heaven on earth, that all else was swept before it. He saw this in a flash. In a nanosecond.