To deliver oneself up, to hand
oneself over, entrust oneself
completely to the silence of a
wide landscape of woods and
hills, or sea, or desert; to sit still
while the sun comes up over that
land and fills its silences with
light. To pray and work in the
morning and to labor and rest in
the afternoon, and to sit still
again in meditation in the
evening when night falls upon
that land and when the silence
fills itself with darkness and with
stars. This is a true and special
vocation. There are few who are
willing to belong completely to
such silence, to let it soak into
their bones, to breathe nothing
but silence, to feed on silence,
and to turn the very substance of
their life into a living and
vigilant silence.
I know in my cells that prayer permeates a sick body, makes it
shimmer as the new life comes in, making the cells remember
how to respond to the harmonic whole. Music is like prayer
a mystical bridge between heaven and earth.
The field of space and time is invisible, but in that space and time is the conscious awareness of the mind of the universe. Within it are mystical experience an high loving. The cosmos is being created in its entirety every eco-second. We are working with God in a process of coevolution.
