I have failed over the past few days. Ever since a disastrous easter my prayer has been gradually disintegrating. There have been several mild attempts at regeneration ever since and none have really rooted. It is difficult to see the reasons for this except in my own lack of vision, the lack of community to help me sustain the rhythm but perhaps above all my seriously inadequate routine.

The temptation is to blame my predicament and, yes, it is clear that my daily work-routine has made my life with you more difficult but now I am on holiday: there is no shortage of time, only a sense that it doesnt matter enough - spiralling procrastination. 

Then comes the doubt. Doubt that it really makes a difference, that you are listening, that you can possibly get past my hypocrisy, double standards and lip-service. . . . . and so, quietly and gradually, self-pity comes into it as well . . . . .  and the trickle becomes a flood and, before you know it, . . . . scepticism and rebellion!

In years past I have let this happen and havent recognised clearly enough the signs and have ended up on the verge of simple atheism . .  . . . . .

. . . it's tempting to say now that that could never happen again but I know that it could if I do not stay aware enough of my "shadow" [as Jung would call it].

There is no standing still in the spiritual life: I am either growing or diminishing - like any living organism.

Today the thursday psalms took me back towards lucidity: reinforcing over and over the idea of God as the only solidity: more solid than anything I can see or touch or worry about. Refocussing everything.

Whether I can carry that forward and build upon it is another matter.

The silent prayer has become far too inconsistent: it is daily or it is not at all;

when silence becomes the enemy then I am travelling in entirely the wrong direction.