Deep Breath

I used to consider myself a writer. And then somewhere along the winding way, particularly through several frantic, intense, at times exceedingly painful and frightening years, I found myself with nothing to say. Every so often, I would sit at the computer and, just because I had to write something, write about how I was yearning to communicate– something– but couldn’t dredge up anything out of the swirling mist inside my head. I had the feeling that all I thought I knew, I was finding out I really didn’t know; to express an opinion would be to show my own ignorance. In the words of those days, “If I were to pour forth onto paper, canvas, or instrument, an expression of that within my own heart which seeks to be expressed, I do believe it would be a deluge of questions, of wonderings, yearnings, longing.  It is as if I know not what to say, yet yearn with my whole soul to say it.”  Somewhere along the way I decided, well, so I will not write; I will listen. I have been reading and watching and trying to fill myself so that perhaps someday I will have something to draw forth. For the most part, I gave up trying to journal. I stopped myself almost every time I got to the “submit” button when commenting on a blog post, and let my insignificant thoughts disappear into the “trashbin” of cyberspace. My intelligent friends would surely scoff at such childish attempts.

But it is time. Time to take a deep breath and say something, and let someone else hear it. It is time to step out of the secure cell of fear and self-consciousness into the light and learn to relate as an imperfect person, as a person becoming, and offer what I do have to give.

As I wrote recently,“I am feeling like a small child working hard at his first steps, ignorantly searching. God grant me grace to enter fully into my own first toddling steps, full of joy and without fear.”


About Jeanne

Notes on the journey of a seaching heart... View all posts by Jeanne

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