Time stretches out empty. No appointments, no phone, no internet, no parlor calls. Just an empty time for prayer.
That's what prayer has always been for me, a sort of interior emptiness. It's the Holy of Holies, that core of the Temple that God has commanded be left empty. That's the heart of of prayer, and the prayer of the heart, the empty place surrounded by the great Temple of sacrifice.
That's my praying heart, empty. That's my solitude against loneliness. That's my celibacy subsumed into prayer in blessed emptiness of heart--and this is the only way celibacy really makes senses if I want to be honest. (And I do.)