I want to write. I am compelled to write. I want to write on this blog and say all sorts of interesting things about the surpassing great revelations of the twilight hours and other times.
The act of writing is an act of self-reflection. Like Dumbledore in Harry Potter, who draws memories out of his head, keeps them in phials, and lays them out for others to see – the writer draws words and ideas from his or her head and lays them out in readable fashion. Is this act of separation a breaking, tearing act? Yet another splitting of my soul-self, which I am trying so hard to hold together? Is the joy of self-forgetfulness to be denied the writer?
On the other hand, praise God, the act of writing forces me to come out into the light of my community. I observe, order, filter, and offer back thoughts in colour to those around me, thus defining myself as belonging to you, the soul-people, and identifying myself in the here and now. I’ll keep trying not to hide. I’ll keep trying to write.
Yes, please keep trying to write…I love it when you do! I think when you write it, you give it away, but in a way you still have it for yourself… even when your mind forgets it, the paper remembers, and reminds the mind again. And that is a very encouraging thought!
How come I just found this??
Simply beautiful, m’dear.
Thank you Grace – I just re-found it now myself! And Caroline – thanks! I think this writing thing is a tough one. “He does not often reflect on the days of his life, as God keeps him occupied with gladness of heart”. Not sure if I’m ready for healthy reflection in writing that everyone is going to see – self does too many mirroring things, like in a mirror hall at a fun fair. But one day… perhaps… I will write more