Sharp pen

Somehow the pen is sharpest when it's been bottled up.

I read some journal entries from very nearly a year ago. Then I read a meditation from a book I bought on Monday. Then I spent the day trying to remember something, anything, from all the spiritually revelatory things I think I've learned in the last two years. I couldn't dwell on the journal entries because the meditation jerked me right out of that posture. Thank you GOD.

I practice what I've learned well enough. It's just time to learn some more, or to revive the energy with which I live what I've learned. The fears I have about being static are real. The feelings I have about doing what I want to do, need to do, long to do, are real. What will I do about them? Nothing? Something shocking? Very hard to say...

Today I did not much. I kept an even keel - that is something. I am writing, that is another thing. Not much, but some. Tomorrow will be yet another new day. What will I let slip away? What will I hold on to? Nobody gets to choose but me. I will decide, and I will own it.

I'm tired. I'm going to bed now.