From my journal, 1986 – St. Petersburg, FL.
I have no direction, no plan or destination for my writing. I am not even sure I want to write, but I seem to be continually drawn to pen and paper, and yet I say so little of intrinsic value. It has been impossible for me to remain with one writing project and follow it to its conclusion. Is it because I become bored or disinterested? Is it my subconscious mind rebelling against the discipline that must be brought about to successfully weed, fertilize and harvest? Why do I feel so sad? So unfulfilled"
The following words flowed from my mind:
I have no direction, no plan or destination for my writing. I am not even sure I want to write, but I seem to be continually drawn to pen and paper, and yet I say so little of intrinsic value. It has been impossible for me to remain with one writing project and follow it to its conclusion. Is it because I become bored or disinterested? Is it my subconscious mind rebelling against the discipline that must be brought about to successfully weed, fertilize and harvest? Why do I feel so sad? So unfulfilled"
The following words flowed from my mind:
And with a pleading voice I asked the wind, "'WHY DO I WEEP?"
The wind heard me not as it pursued its course brushing against all in its path without distinction.
As the raindrops touched my face I asked, "WHY DO I WEEP?" They answered me not as they mingled with my tears, fell to the ground and resumed the eternal flow.
The sun kissed me gently. "WHY DO I WEEP?"
Its rays caressed me, gave me light but no direction as they bounced back into infinity.
"WHY DO I WEEP?" I asked the birds as the fluttered above me. They heard not my voice as the searched for their fruits of life.
I sat alone beside the river and asked, "WHY DO I WEEP?"
"In all of nature," I felt the reply, "there is direction. Each element, each life has purpose and meaning. Some succeed and some fail. You weep in the eternal pursuit of
destiny not revealed. You ask for answers to question not answered. You seek destiny without peril. You weep for the unknown."
I watched the river flow, heard its soft rippling tremors, and asked, "WHY DO I WEEP?
"Because you are loneliness in the vast arena of life," I felt the answer, "you seek realities undefined."
"Must I always weep?" I asked the swaying branches of the aged tree.
"Find direction for your soul and meaning to your life."
A falling leaf touched my face, absorbed my tears. I held it in my hand, felt the veins, saw the intricate design.
A leaf falls from a tree, touched by the wind, washed by the rain, warmed by the sunlight.
The river flows gently by as life moves in direction."
The wind heard me not as it pursued its course brushing against all in its path without distinction.
As the raindrops touched my face I asked, "WHY DO I WEEP?" They answered me not as they mingled with my tears, fell to the ground and resumed the eternal flow.
The sun kissed me gently. "WHY DO I WEEP?"
Its rays caressed me, gave me light but no direction as they bounced back into infinity.
"WHY DO I WEEP?" I asked the birds as the fluttered above me. They heard not my voice as the searched for their fruits of life.
I sat alone beside the river and asked, "WHY DO I WEEP?"
"In all of nature," I felt the reply, "there is direction. Each element, each life has purpose and meaning. Some succeed and some fail. You weep in the eternal pursuit of
destiny not revealed. You ask for answers to question not answered. You seek destiny without peril. You weep for the unknown."
I watched the river flow, heard its soft rippling tremors, and asked, "WHY DO I WEEP?
"Because you are loneliness in the vast arena of life," I felt the answer, "you seek realities undefined."
"Must I always weep?" I asked the swaying branches of the aged tree.
"Find direction for your soul and meaning to your life."
A falling leaf touched my face, absorbed my tears. I held it in my hand, felt the veins, saw the intricate design.
A leaf falls from a tree, touched by the wind, washed by the rain, warmed by the sunlight.
The river flows gently by as life moves in direction."
The direction I would like to pursue now is that of a writer.
Today – 2015 – I realize one of the obstacles to my writing is fear of failure, of criticism and rejection. Later, in my Thinking About Faith essay you will find a small piece I wrote about what fear of failure can do.
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