If one saw a person who was always loving, but not easygoing; utterly kind, but not to the point of creating dependency; very wise, and clearly able to intuit the future; never condemning, yet always understanding; willing to descend into the mire of human conditions to help someone rise out of it; prepared to share anything they had with another; utterly firm when necessary for the soul's sake; one might say, "S/he is the most Christ-like person I have ever met". But one still would not know the inner status of that person. The most important discoveries we make are not on the level of intellect at all. They are inward knowledge of absolute certitude; this is the result of a grace bestowed when the recipient is inwardly ready to see ... and often arises out of times of silence and solitude.
To live a contemplative life is to be open enough to see, free enough to hear, real enough to respond. It is a life, and so has its own rhythms of darkness, dying-rising. Simply enough, it is a life of grateful receptivity, or wordless awe, of silent simplicity.