I can understand Thomas Merton’s longing for solitude. Even though my day is my own, in theory, it is filled with incidental tasks, to-ings and fro-ings, and dealing with the wishes of the family. I also have my self imposed tasks. Not that I resent any of these but they interrupt the silence. The more I think about it the more I agree with Rahner’s idea of a primordial unthematic awareness of God – sometimes felt as a sense of presence, sometimes as a feeling that this tangible reality is merely the outer surface of an unfathomable mystery, most times unfelt, simply an emptiness, a hollow void. When there is a longish stretch of solitude and silence these unfelt feelings loom large in awareness and my self, my possessive self stands exposed and can be seen for what it is with its narrow preoccupations with anything that will lead to aggrandisement. Then it is easier to turn away, and the empty darkness becomes compellingly attractive.