Why Struggle to Express?

So, im not sure if other people experience what i am about to describe when they sit down to start writing.  i'll do my best to explain it as much as possible.
it comes in stages or at least phases.  this is triggered by just thinking about writing anything though experienced to less of a degree when thinking about writing in my private journal.

1. firstly i am surrounded by a sort of apathy which is followed with all the other things i need/want to do.  after all i could take a shower, clean my room, eat, SLEEP, or the ever present video game vegg out.  (viji games are just about completely dead in my life praise the Lrd!)

2. after finally deciding to write something and sitting down my brain begins to scramble. idk if it is just the bottle neck of my natural tenancy to think about everything going on in my life at the same time.  So, that things that were floating around in my mind with no particular organization must now be categorized and funneled by importance and applicability.  (10pts for using applicability in a sentence) This 'funneling' is quite intense.  so much as i can feel my brain trying to organize and file.  i am very aware of the thought process.  its almost painful... but more like really really uncomfortable, like fingers on a chalk board.  (maybe i am feeling dendrites growing!)

3. during this 'struggle to express' the is a hint of a force against.  i mean, (not so much since deliverance) an aggressiveness against my writing.  saying it would just be easier to not write, or asking questions about what people will think about what i write, or worse that no one will read it or express what they are thinking.  Really this is another set of apathy i guess, but it's more aggressive than a 'eh ill write later' feeling. 

4. then once all the files have been organized and cobwebs dusted off i start writing and it flows...


I desire to be more transparent.  This conviction started back when i was a youth pastor.  i figured my openness would be to their benefit.  this most often was translated as openness about my past and current relationships.  At KL it has taken the form of explaining my history and things i struggle with now.  Now, (this is where it gets sticky) i am presented with being transparent about who i am and what makes me tick.  it's not merely my past but my self.  not just my current state but my foundation.  this is pragmatic for several reasons.

what if i misrepresent myself and everyone thinks they know something about me that isn't me?  i haven't exactly spent a lot of time telling people what makes me tick and there have been a lot of opinions about what make me tick.  so, i'm not sure i can accurately express the true me!

but the bigger fear is that the 'real' me could offend a friend.  

i have been so afraid of hurting people i have all but hidden my face.  taken different parts of myself, storing them safely away in deep caverns of a dark cave.  it has become so jumbled im not sure anyone can see the whole save HaShem.

 SAVE HASHEM!!

Yet, i must continue.  i have found people who i believe really care about me (and who i care about immensely)  An emotional trust fall is my only option.  truthfully it is already underway.  i am already falling.  If i were to pull back now i would hit the ground.

So this blog has been created, out of necessity, to struggle through events, thoughts, and ideas that inform who i am.





The Silver Chair

Clive Staples Lewis
chapter 2

"Are you not thirsty?" said the Lion.
"I'm dying of thirst," said Jill.
"Then drink," said the Lion.
"May  I-could  I-would you mind going away while i do?" said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.
The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
"Will you promise not to-do anything to me, if i do come?" said Jill.
"I make no promise," said the Lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
"Do you eat girls?" she said.
"I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms," said the Lion. It didn't say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if were angry. It just said it.
"I daren't come and drink," said Jill
"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.
"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming another step nearer. "I suppose i must go and look for another stream then."
"There is no other stream," said the Lion.