Most people agree that there is room for much more solitude than our present way of life affords. Whether the solitude is friendly or frightening, we are likely to feel in it God's presence, or absence. It is of great value to feel either ... Solitude reminds us that human interaction is rich and fathomless. Emerging from solitude, either shaken or serene, I nearly always cherish my first contacts with people, and see more clearly that what passes between us can bear meaning's heaviest weight.
There is a tender sense of silence, without prayer to or from. In the moments of our own silence we are welcomed, as both stranger and friend. We need to allow this presence to be with us, not in defined moments, but as a flow. The river is here, not hidden behind the bank or crossing the horizon. In the tranquility of the moment there is no moment, nothing defined or captured. This world is seeped with the other, soaked with the dew of timelessness.