Dance was my way of praying, of listening, of celebrating, it was my way of being as beautiful as the life around me. Now I feel hideous, unloved, abandoned. I lie down and sob and I feel a screeching hunger for mil, for some essence to flow from the sky and reach down through my shattered mind and reconnect me to warmth and calm. And very gradually it happens. The life in the trees and grass and the warm rocks enters my body and joins me to them. One morning, I sit up and see the incandescent trees in silent communion with each other, immersed in love. This is the world, I think, the real world. Whatever happens to me, the world is still this luminous mystery.
The parallelism of the psalms is a key to praying them. Just as the rhythm of music invites us to join in a dance, the rhythm of the psalms invites us to join in a dance, the rhythm of the psalms invites us to step into them with our whole self ... Repetition in prayer is a way of holding God in remembrance. The images of such prayer lodge deep within us and surface at other periods of our life. When we move quickly from one idea to another, it is difficult to let any one thought sink in and deepen within us. By quietly reiterating a theme or image, a psalm calms our restless hearts and gently leads us into a prayerful attitude.
