It's Like What Happens Between Two Married People

And note well, friends, this counsel that I now wish to give, for you'll often see that you'll be unable to manage these other two faculties. It happens that the soul will be in the greatest quiet and the intellect will be so distracted that it won't seem that the quiet is present in the intellect's house. It seems to the intellect, during that time, that it is nowhere else than in a stranger's house, as a guest, and seeking other dwelling places because the house it's in doesn't satisfy it and it knows little about how to remain stable. Perhaps it's only my intellect that's like this, and others' intellects are not. I am speaking about myself, for sometimes I want to die in that I cannot cure this wandering of the intellect. At other times I think it takes up residence in its own house and accompanies the will. It's a wonderful thing when all three faculties are in accord. It's like what happens between two married people: if they love each other, the one wants what the other wants. But if the husband is unhappily married, it's easy to see what disturbance he'll cause his wife. Thus when the will finds itself in this quiet [and note well this counsel, for the matter is important], it shouldn't pay any more attention to the intellect than it would to a madman. For should it want to keep the intellect near itself, it will necessarily have to be somewhat disturbed and disquieted. And in this state of prayer everything will then amount to working without any further gain but with a loss of what the Lord was giving the will without its own work.

- St. Teresa of Avila, The Way of Perfection, 31:8