The reflection goes like this:

Be still and know that I am God.

Be still and know that I am.

Be still and know.

Be still.

Be.

If we go into prayer with this, leaving a space between each line, we make the journey from God-out-there to God-within-us.

Something about the shortening of each line and the final "Be" brings us to the inner place of contemplation.

Of course, there are many other aids to meditation. Each is designed to facilitate the same journey of awareness.

In stillness, we realise that God is within us.

Some people light a candle or incense, using light or fragrance to achieve stillness.

Others may use music or words like maranatha - come, Lord Jesus.

Also, body awareness can help meditation, deep breathing and muscular relaxation.

Whatever method is used, the aim is stillness, a calmness that settles over us, unwinding physical and mental tension.

When we can achieve that, there comes the 'knowing' that can't be put into words.

I have tried all of the above methods and have always struggled with what I call "head noise," a busy brain disturbing peaceful intentions.

I see myself as a tree with upper branches full of chattering birds.

I cannot make the head noise go away.

However, I have learned to hear the chatter without engaging with it. Instead, I focus on the stability and stillness of the tree trunk.

That seems to work.

In recent years, age has given me new tools to work with.

One of these could be considered a nuisance. It's the gap when a word disappears.

When I write, I have access to the words I need, but that is no longer so with speech.

There are holes in the fabric of talk.

Nouns - and especially proper nouns - will disappear and leave me stranded like a fish on dry land.

Not long ago I wanted to tell someone that a good friend, a children's author, had died. I could not remember my friend's first name.

There was an embarrassing silence.

The next day it came to me. Her first name was the same as mine. It was Joy.

I know these lapses are common in people my age, but I did not anticipate how they would benefit meditation.

When names disappear there comes a new spiritual awareness of unity.

Naming is necessary for order. Society would not cope without it. Yet the naming of things also tends to separate.

I wonder if that's the meaning of the Biblical story ‘The Tower of Babel."

Language divides the oneness of creation.

So what has this to do with meditation?

When a noun drops out of sight, it leaves a little gap through which we see the Oneness of everything.

It's a Oneness usually cloaked in layers of words, and seeing it is a gift that comes with age.

When we experience it, all we can say to God is "Thank you."

• Joy Cowley is a wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and retreat facilitator.

Corpus Christi, our first level one Mass, was a true celebration of the body of Christ.

Our church was full of glowing faces, smiles, spontaneous hugs, happiness that made me think of David dancing before the Ark of the Covenant.

We realised how much we had missed each other during the lock-down.

In a new way, we experienced the Oneness of the Body of Christ.

The experience has not gone away, and there is a desire to hold on to it.

I recognise that sense of Oneness as the Way, the Truth and the Life of our faith.

It is indeed, the Body of Christ.

Please, let us get rid of language that causes division in the Church.

We could start with the word "lay" which is not used in other Christian churches. Lay is an acceptable verb for a hen producing eggs.

It's not a good as an adjective describing people as unskilled. It suggests inferiority.

Another misplaced word is "Father." Most of the priests I know, don't like it, and some refuse to use it.

If the priest is "Father," who are the parishioners? Children?

I'd go as far to say, if a man enters a seminary because he wants to be known as "Father" he probably has the wrong calling.

Surely "Priest" and "Parishioner" are more appropriate ways to describe us.

"Shepherds" and "Sheep" also suggest division.

If we go to the Gospels, we see only one Shepherd, our Lord Jesus Christ. He refers to his apostles as sheep.

When Jesus commissions Peter in John 21:14 - 17, he doesn't call Peter a shepherd.

We have given Peter that title.

The good shepherd wants the sheep Peter to feed Jesus' sheep and lambs.

It's comforting to think we are all his sheep and are called to feed each other, physically and spiritually.

I don't think divisive definition in the Church is going to disappear overnight, but I believe COVID 19 has brought us all on our knees together, and no one is taller than anyone else.

After weeks of lock-down, we come back to a richer experience of the Mass and each other.

Something has changed, and while we can't adequately describe it, we know we have been blessed with a love that is holy communion.

St Paul describes this in 1 Corinthians 13, a chapter often used in marriage ceremonies.

However, Paul was not writing about weddings but about love in the Christian community.

He finishes: "In short, there are three things that last, faith, hope and love, and the greatest of these is love."

This was our celebration of Corpus Christi, the love of Christ Jesus without division.

Let us keep celebrating the Oneness of that love. It is what our church is all about.

• Joy Cowley is a wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and retreat facilitator.