Prayer begins in us the restoration of the divine image, in all its hiddenness and wonder. It brings us closer to the "region of likeness" and every prayer is an act of letting the old self go. It involves "dying". The grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies. Dead, it is destined to bear much fruit.
"The world is a sacred place and a sacred process," I told her, "and we're part of it."
“That's excellent -- simple and to the point. This is what was understood -- and is still understood among Leaver peoples. Wherever you were in the world, you found people who took it for granted that the world is a sacred place, and that we belong in that sacred place as much as any creature in the world." Smiling, she looked around the park, as if giving it a silent farewell. Then she included me in the smile as she said, "Maybe someday someone will find a way to say it that makes the ground tremble."