In past times, prayer that got as difficult as it was this morning would send me running for cover but things are different now. Perhaps because I can see how the clouds and the ugliness are not some new manifestation of an aspect of you in yourself but a manifestation only of passing trouble and ugliness in my own being. It seems so obvious, but there was a time when I had no understanding of this at all, or was unable to communicate it to myself - which can perhaps be the same thing?
I overestimated my own ability to 'perceive' you whilst underrating the degree to which my own flimsy and easily turned nature can confuse the mental 'canvas' of prayer and the way in which you do in fact communicate with me (because I know that you do).  
Or perhaps it is just that I know a little more about you and am less easily led astray but darknesses?
To put it bluntly, I know a little better the difference between me and you. It sounds so basic put like this but there was a time when I had no conception of where the boundaries were between us. . . . .(certainly at Worth I think.)
Today has been important (as has the whole week.) The artistic nature of the life of prayer has become a source of inspiration in a way which is difficult to describe: especially in prose. The life of prayer is so essentially a creative one in a transparent almost invisible way. The one who prays seems to me tonight to be an artist who paints without a brush: his painting is a new manifestation of a truth which transcends all comprehensible beauty in a perfectly understandable way. It is because of the transcendent nature of this painting that the artist is neither able to turn it into something visible, nor able to visualise what the painting would be like because the painting lives and the painting is you yourself. . . . .
so hard to put into words and yet I really want to try.