We all pray. Be it to gods and idols or to the bottom of a bottle. We revere the unknown, pleading to the unconscious deity for solace; for answers. Despite the echoing silence, there are times, in the slowing of the mind, that we hear the still, soft whisper. We animate the darkness into maps of meaning. And in the act of listening we begin to understand. Some call this God. Some call this psyche. To me, it's all the same. Our mind is our church, our synagogue, our temple. Whatever the source, we must listen. We must pray. It is your only hope for peace in a world that commands your attention.