this is a post by Father Lazarus, who is an orthodox monk at IFSB forum:

The above must always be the prayer of the solitary . I once described the solitary as" no one very important going nowhere very important in the eyes of the world , waiting for the moment of death and the greatest solitude of all ;a nobody soon no longer to be remembered by the world ,yet known by God who called him deeper every step of the journey."

To a name , to a title there is always so much more sometimes never seen or understood by other people ;
There is a hidden journey to be made and lived . A journey of hunger , a journey of faithfulness , A journey to God in God ."The kingdom of God is within you ."

It is always deeper we go ...Deeper and deeper in to the depths to which there is no limit " unto the ages of all ages" as we sing so often in our offices and liturgy.With God the very best is always yet to come;It is never the end at the moment of death but a new beginning.

Back in England I would visit a certain Hermit three or four times a year and we would meditate for a day and I would give some spiritual guidance.At the end of each meeting we never said "Goodbye ."We simply put our hand together in the gesture of prayer and said "Until we meet again." It is always like that with and in God .

When the time comes to enter the darkness in which we are naked and helpless and alone; in which we see the insufficiency of our greatest strength and the hollowness of our strongest virtues; in which we have nothing of our own to rely on, and nothing in our nature to support us, and nothing in the world to guide us or give us light - then we find out whether or not we live by faith.
Merton

From a sermon by St. Bernard, abbot (this was on the forum today. Bernard at his very best. )
I love because I love, I love that I may love
Love is sufficient of itself, it gives pleasure by itself and because of itself. It is its own merit, its own reward. Love looks for no cause outside itself, no effect beyond itself. Its profit lies in its practice. I love because I love, I love that I may love. Love is a great thing so long as it continually returns to its fountainhead, flows back to its source, always drawing from there the water which constantly replenishes it. Of all the movements, sensations and feelings of the soul, love is the only one in which the creature can respond to the Creator and make some sort of similar return however unequal though it be. For when God loves, all he desires is to be loved in return; the sole purpose of his love is to be loved, in the knowledge that those who love him are made happy by their love of him.
The Bridegroom’s love, or rather the love which is the Bridegroom, asks in return nothing but faithful love. Let the beloved, then, love in return. Should not a bride love, and above all, Love’s bride? Could it be that Love not be loved?

I slept through most of my prayer but the psalms are more urgent this week.
on monday you said them.
I stood beside you.
I put my hand in yours.

starting over, a month later.
not because I want to, but because I must.
whether I am with you or not you are still: truth;
this I know.
I travel on with nothing to go on - or so it seems.
this is illusion.
If I travel, I have something to go on . . . . .
the only way.