Are there truly coincidences, or do we manufacture and appease ourselves when events align in ways that seem to provide direction, guidance, hope, solace, or other things we deeply need? Is it the unseen hand of the One, weaving threads of meaning into the mosaic of our lives? Or are these moments a whisper from the universe, inviting us to pause, reflect, and rediscover the sacred within the ordinary? Sometimes, we don’t even realize what we need until the moment arrives, as if some deeper part of us recognizes the gift before our conscious mind can comprehend it.
A few weeks ago, I co-facilitated a retreat at Mercy by the Sea Center in Madison, CT, titled “Embracing & Honoring the Divine Within You in Everyday Life.” During the preparation, I told my co-facilitator, Jalyn, “Find me a prayer on silence; I’d like to lead a session on that.” I don’t know why I asked for a prayer of silence. It was not something I had consciously thought about—the request came forth spontaneously as though carried by an unseen current. She graciously obliged, adding two prayers to the document: one by Mother Teresa and the other by Thomas Merton. When I read Merton’s words, I knew my session would center on his prayer. In my late twenties and thirties, Thomas Merton had been my companion. Years may have passed since I last engaged with his writings, but is there ever truly a gap between fellow travelers on the spiritual journey? No, never. Jalyn did not know of my association with Thomas Merton. Yet, her gesture felt divinely orchestrated, as if the universe itself conspired to reunite me with a voice that had guided me long ago.
I titled the session “The Prayer of Silence: Living Fully in the Present.” The session invited participants to explore silence as a pathway to a deeper Divine connection, drawing on Thomas Merton’s prayer, which encourages living fully without self-measurement. As I crafted the session, I felt a sense of ease and assurance, as though I were revisiting an old friend whose wisdom had never left me. The words of Merton resonated deeply, stirring memories of past reflections and spiritual awakenings. It was as if the session had already existed in some sacred space, waiting for me to uncover it. Each element fell into place effortlessly, not through deliberate effort but through a divinely inspired flow. I was not merely preparing a session for others; I was stepping into an experience of silence myself, one that was alive, transformative, and deeply personal.
I woke up at 5 a.m. Sunday to watch the sun grace the shoreline. The world was still, wrapped in the quiet embrace of dawn, and the serenity was palpable. I felt like an observer, a witness to the beauty unfolding before me as if nature itself was engaged in prayer. The soft hues of the rising sun danced upon the waves, and for a moment, time seemed to dissolve. Drawn by an inner stirring, I reached for my folder and reread Thomas Merton’s poem:
“When I am liberated by silence,
when I am no longer involved
in the measurement of life, but in the living of it,
I can discover a form of prayer in which
there is effectively no distraction.
My whole life becomes a prayer.
My whole silence is full of prayer.
The world of silence in which I am immersed
contributes to my prayer.”
— Thomas Merton, Life and Holiness
The words seemed to echo the stillness around me, resonating with a truth I had yet to embrace fully. In that moment, I felt the profound invitation of silence—not as an absence but as a presence, a sacred space where the boundaries between the self and the Self dissolve. Merton’s words were no longer just lines on a page; they were alive, breathing through the morning silence, calling me to step into a deeper way of being.
Tears flowed freely, carrying with them a cascade of memories from years gone by. It was as if the veil between past and present had lifted, allowing me to step into a moment that felt both distant and immediate. My heart spoke with a clarity I could not ignore: “I no longer want to be involved in the measurement of life but in the living of it.” I no longer wanted to measure success or progress, nor did I wish to subject myself to constant evaluation. I just wanted to be. In that surrender, I recalled a yearning so profound it seemed etched into my very being—a longing for the blood flowing through my arteries and veins to resound with prayer, for every fiber of my existence to vibrate in harmony with the One. This was no ordinary desire; it was an ache for union, for a state where prayer was not confined to moments or rituals but became the very essence of my life.
I yearned for a state where prayer was no longer an external act but an internal reality. Every moment, every action, every thought, and every breath would be saturated with the sacred. Prayer would cease to be something I did; it would become who I was. This vision of life as prayer had once been a distant dream, a whisper in the quiet corners of my heart. Now, in the stillness of that morning, it felt closer than ever—as though it were reaching out to me, inviting me to step into its embrace.
I knew I needed to act. I could not, and would not, ignore my heart’s cry. This was a call to return to the sacred rhythm that had been patiently waiting for me. Recognizing the longing was not enough; I had to honor it and allow it to guide me into the fullness of living in prayer. The time for hesitation was over; the time for transformation had arrived.
It became clear that my preparation for the session had been from a third-person perspective, as though I were crafting it for others. Yet, as the morning unfolded, I realized it was no longer about others. This session was for me. The words, the reflections, the silence—all of it was intended to pierce through my own layers, to reach the very core of my being. Little did I know that designing this session would become a mirror, reflecting the areas of my life that longed for stillness and wholeness. It was not simply a teaching moment but a transformation moment.
This is the essence of companionship—the companionship of travelers walking the spiritual path together. It is a bond unbroken by time or distance that endures and re-emerges precisely when it is most needed. Thomas Merton’s prayer, at that moment, became more than words on a page; it became a living presence, a gentle but insistent call to embrace silence, live fully, and allow life to transform into prayer. It was as though his voice joined the chorus of my own inner yearning, guiding me toward a deeper connection with the One.
I felt the weight of this realization settle into me, not as a burden but as an invitation. The companionship of kindred spirits like Merton—their words, their lives, their prayers—is a sacred gift, reminding us that we are never truly alone on this journey. They walk beside us, lighting the path when our own steps falter, urging us forward when we hesitate. And in that sacred silence, I could feel their presence, a reminder that the journey inward is as much about connection as it is about solitude.
In the quiet of my heart, I hear the timeless call:
“Be still and know.”
The path unfolds with each step,
Not to a destination but to a deeper knowing—
A prayer unspoken, a silence that breathes life.
The journey continues,
For silence is not an end,
But a beginning that whispers,
There is always more that will unfold.
