One of the consequences of the retreat week I went on during the month of July was a realization that there are some things one just mustn't ever, ever speak about. It was a sobering realization, one that raised new questions about what we do and do not understand, and the absolute limits of what can be exchanged, even among the closest spiritual friends.
One may come to a moment in one's work where one sees this. Perhaps everyone does; perhaps only some people do; perhaps it's not required of everyone, or at all times. I can hardly claim to know. What is certain to me is that there are good and sufficient reasons for the "secrecy" that Mr. Gurdjieff called his followers to. Not the reasons one might think; simply because the reasons can't be thought, they must be experienced in an inner sense.
Furthermore, the things that need to remain secret have nothing whatsoever to do with the secular aspects of spiritual work: The outer events (meetings or otherwise), organizational issues, faces turned to the public, and so on. Maintaining secrecy in these matters is simply preparation for the more esoteric forms of secrecy, which must be preserved in one's own inner work.
The more quietly a man or woman goes on their path, the more time they may have to stop and see something quite remarkable.
They may even find the time to see a spider eat her web, for example.
Once again, all this calls into question the reasons for continuing to maintain this space and offer writings on my personal experiences- and thoughts about- inner work. Once again, I ponder the possibility of bringing the effort to a respectable and intentional end.
So, in any event-- yea or nay-- I find myself back in the midst of this life, contemplating inner gravity: contemplating the call and response of prayer, the effort to open to a relationship which consists not so much of accepting as of offering,
May our hearts be opened, and our prayers be heard.