I’ve taken on another ecourse. Seriously, I may need an intervention, but I digress. I love learning. I love growing. I love deepening my thoughts and ideas about various curiosities. However, I can’t do that in a bubble. There is precious value found in living in community. It heightens, sharpens, and enhances much of what we do as individuals.
Living purposely in community is life affirming. Sure there are bumps, bruises, and soul contusions, but if we are honest about wanting to fully be all we’re made to be, then I think it (authenticity) really blossoms in community.
I am a writer. I write. I’ve enjoyed writing for at least half my life. However, the majority of that writing was in journals of various sorts. I started by first blog in 2009 with a different name. Then I started another one, because I was still trying to figure out what I wanted to write about and take a shine to. I began my third blog, The Human Impulse, that same year. This one is a much more natural feel. It’s about the impulse within each of us beating softly, refusing to be silent, reminding us who we really are.
So why am I writing all this to you, and myself, now? Because I am in the process of writing a manifesto. I’m laying down the bones of a dream burning like fire in my heart. It won’t let me go, so I’m giving it breath and space to live now. I do not wish to take these words with me to the grave. I wish to cast them far and wide. They may not be for all, but somewhere they will catch, and do what they’re intended to do.
It won’t always be this way you know.
The sun really will shine again
But there is something in this life which
Smacks of pain, loss, and leaning in to the shards
There’s really no way around it
What we have learned today has come from our yesterdays
We will learn tomorrow has come from our todays
This is the essence of life
We live by just being
We let that being become what we do
We let the being become who we are
In valley, in shadow, in silence, in sorrow
Choose Continue reading
He holds me together.
I am a limpy, weighty bag of tired weary bones.
I’ve tried hard, very hard to make it;
Take it; muscle it; and chin up through it.
I’m exhausted. I can do no more.
I am weary of this world, the conflicts,
the fighting, the tit-for-tat
assassination of character, tender hearts,
and honest souls.
He holds me together. Continue reading
we are all so broken
defining what we
want of our own religion
we are all so broken