One day I stood quietly gazing through our sliding glass doors. It was a windless day, and without thinking, I found myself slipping into a silent world. Then something overcame me. Whereas silence had been a visitor, a friend with whom I communed when I chose, now silence slipped into the core of my being. Without my knowíng, without even my consciousness consent, sílence entered me ín a way a spouse penetrates his espoused. I realized with a shock that this seeking of silence had led to consummation. I was consumed. I was wed — in a way that had no guests, no celebration, no fanfare or music, and no witness. Except my heart.
A friend is one to whom one may pour out all the contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away.