The silence in the giant redwood forest near my home draws me. Many mornings I get up early and dress hurriedly to get to the woods before the tour buses and the cars arriving with people from all over the world come to marvel at the majesty of nature. At eight in the morning, the great trees stand rooted in silence so absolute that one's inmost self comes to rest. An aged silence. The grandmother of silences. I find the silence even more remarkable than the trees.
Prayer is the process through which our soul connects with the Divine, with all that transcends our being. It enables us to converse with things invisible, forming connections that at times defy the rational but often calm the spirit. It can be the language that tickles and soothes, itches and scratches, touches ever so gently the soft spots deep within. Prayer, like words or even complicated mathematical formula, is a language to be mastered. And in doing so, we open gates that are usually closed and often locked.