The Word must be heard in the silence of the heart, the place in which it can be welcomed and given space so that it may become creative. From earliest times the advice given to those who wanted to learn the monastic way was always "to return to your own heart." This is the interior space for which there are so many different concepts: the inner cloister, the poustinia, the cave of the heart. It is simply "the place of God in us" which each of us will understand in a unique and mysterious way.
A stillness descended upon the room, and in the heart of that stillness was something beyond the power of mere language to describe. I felt we were being given a glimpse of the underlying unity of all things, and that this harmony -- though no metaphor was adequate to describe that singing silence -- was enfolding us so that we were wholly in tune not only with one another, but with a healing presence at the very centre of our being.
The moment passed, but I thought of the disciples on the road to Emmaus and how they had recognized the stranger in the breaking of the bread.