In this latter part of life, my prayer of the heart is most often without words. My tongue is stilled. My mind is stilled. The prayer of the heart becomes the heart's own respiration. I breathe in and I breathe out. It is God's breath. God breathing in, God breathing out. It is God's breath breathing me.
Music is like a human echo of the beauty of the world or nature or flowers somewhere out there sounding the beauty of a Creator... As I listen to this beauty, I can rest, let down the guard I consciously or unconsciously maintain against the next minor or major difficulty or crisis.
Perhaps the important matter is that we are who we are and where we are by a maze of reasons unknown to us. Our work is to make our way through our situation with faith and courage and whatever else it takes... In the end we are not only a mystery to one another but even to ourselves. The task is to live the mystery rather than unravel it.
