Where the Stories Go.

I wanted to do a nice re-cap of my summer.

Tell you about what life was without the computer. How positively freeing it is, even though I didn't quite manage it. How I realized that my freedom isn't tied to the internet, it's tied to me.

I wanted to capture the awesomeness of the life I lived this summer into a blog post so you could experience a piece of it. To powerfully put into words the things I discovered.

But...I feel as if...the moment something is written down or expressed in spoken words, it is like you have put a bird into a cage. You have confined it, stripped it of meaning, limited its existence.

Words simply cannot capture the essence of truth. It is beyond, even, what humans could possibly comprehend even with their spirit. Not only is it not limited to words and understanding, but it is completely beyond this reality in which I live.

So much of my life has been lived trying to capture bits of truth into "my book of days." To write it down, to treasure it so that I know exactly where it is and how to find it and can pull it out at the right moment in a way that makes people think I am awesome. Trying to fit the ocean into my cup, to stretch my finite capacities to understand the unreachable limitless world of the infinite.

And I can't. I can't hold onto truth because truth is not mine to hold and keep.

In the words of a dear friend: "I'm not losing something by unfurling my grasp on it. Every single thing that occurs on this earth, that touches me, is still changing the world and molding my journey, my person, whether or not a record is kept of it. "

We are stuck in the in between, we are waiting, pressing on for a goal unreachable on this earth -- yet the very pressing on in and of itself means that we are not failing.

I had hoped to come back to blogging full of fire for writing, but now I find that writing cannot capture truly living. I will still write, I suppose -- but hopefully not in a way that lives for the praise I desire from readers, or from my need to know and understand everything, but simply for the living, for the discovering -- sharing, growing, becoming. To seek understanding without becoming a slave to it.

Mike Donehey (lead singer for tenth avenue north, in case you forgot) said, "I don’t write,
because I know what I’m talking about, I write precisely because I don’t know what I’m talking about....I write to unriddle my heart."

To unriddle my heart.