The Word must be heard in the silence of the heart, the place in which it can be welcomed and given space so that it may become creative. From earliest times the advice given to those who wanted to learn the monastic way was always "to return to your own heart." This is the interior space for which there are so many different concepts: the inner cloister, the poustinia, the cave of the heart. It is simply "the place of God in us" which each of us will understand in a unique and mysterious way.
Each age has its own tasks. For most of us now, our monasteries have no walls except the silence our meditation gathers to the center of our lives, and this is enough—it is more than enough. Our hermitage is the act of living with attention in the midst of things; amid the rhythms of work and love, the bath with the child, the endlessly growing paperwork, the ever-present likelihood of war, the necessity for taking action to help the world. For us, a good spiritual life is permeable and robust. It faces things squarely knowing the smallest moments are all we have, and that even the smallest moment is full of happiness.