When my child finally falls asleep and her deep breathing signals that she is in bed for the night, the great silence opens up. It’s the time I realize that it is the only silence I’ve had all day. I guess J. K. Rowling used this sort of quiet hours to write her mega-selling books while her children were young. Someone I know devotes these nightly time to clean her house sparkle clean. When I say sparkle clean, it’s a literal meaning. The cleanness of her house is the envy of any five-star hotel rooms. These are definitely something that I could aspire to, great enough habits to inspire me to adopt into my own routine. But I don’t.

I am a fan of rituals and the simplicity and familiarity they offer. For example, some of the greatest minds who make it on Fortune’s richest list boast their simple style of fashion. Wearing only blue jeans and grey shirts to minimize the decision process. I’m all for minimalist life style but that’s if my life is full of clutters which most definitely is NOT. Every moment that I spent is from the depth of my heart. I do it out of love for the pure beauty of this human existence. Even the moments I spend in anger and sadness are precious to me. They were my best response at that moment. When the day is filled with so many activities and the day ends with this sweet moment of silence, it is finally a time to surrender to the most deepest of my desires, longings, and my true, meaningful existence. I am ever so fluid. My needs and desires shift often and what I need at the moment may not be what I needed the night before. This is the reason I don’t adhere to any specific rituals at night time.

Lately, though, I returned to praying the rosary. It was a sudden desire I felt in the core of my being and honestly, it took me more than a week of determination to finally bring myself to kneel to pray the rosary. I sensed the call of the Holy Spirit prompting me to return to the rosary and it became so much more clearer when I spotted the book I recently borrowed from the library sitting next to my bed. The beautiful cover of Oprah’s most recent book read: The Path Made Clear.

My path has been murky. It was a path that required no certain structures or guidance. It was completely unpaved and comprised of many unexpected corners. Before Jesus, I was like a blind man. But instead of begging in the corner of the synagogue, I continued my walk. I kept walking and walking on that unpaved path that was murky and messy and chaotic all at once. What I didn’t know then was that Jesus was right there by side on my every step and fall. Had I known, I would have made more mess. I would have jumped off more cliffs.

And if my messy walk has led me to this wonderful place that I am right now, how much farther would this path take me if it is made clear? If I can see what I could not before, if I can discern what I couldn’t earlier, and if I know the one holding my hands steady and trust that person travelling this path with me, then how much more enjoyable this walk of human journey will be?

And it is with this profound awareness that I close each day with this sweet surrender when the great silence comes my way each night.