Just as each new seed requires a period of gestation -- a time of deep silence and solitude -- so, too, we need such seasons. "Someone wrote me recently and asked if it wasn't frustrating to have exterior solitude interrupted. Well, you learn to live out of your interior solitude. And perhaps this is one of the keys to living in the madness, the telescoping demands and resulting exhaustion of our society: to explore our own interior solitude and learn not only to be afraid of it but to live out if its self-discipline, its limitless resources and deep silence. Solitude is like a tea ceremony, the celebration of life in all its homely movements taken out of time -- the wonder of the commonplace, the mystery of ordinary life ... Solitude is being poured-out-through. We evolve toward simplicity. We dwell in the Word."
I found my inner silence, the silence that emanates from the center of the self. I felt it for the first time as something perceptible and real... I felt all shining like a mirror. I had the sense of eternity in space and time. I felt "washed" and clean, whole and at the same time without boundaries, as if universal life had entered me and my heart was beating in unison with its rhythm. But most of all I knew that this was more than just a state of mind. It was a way of living and being and of relating to others.