write to write, love to love

Today I write about nothing interesting. Seriously, if you read my blog because you find what I say somehow insightful or intriguing, do yourself a favor and stop now.

Still reading? Ok, I warned you.

Lately I’ve been thinking, a lot. Not in a bad way. Not in a way that feels out of control or all-encompassing. I know what that feels like and this isn’t it. This feels like exploration and discovery and love. I suppose a more correct way of putting it would be, I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching lately. What I’ve discovered is peace, and faith.

I want to write it all down, but I feel so much and I feel more and more everyday. More and more thoughts enter my head that I feel I must write down. I don’t, and they slip away. I’m no great orator. I hate standing in front of people and speaking, ESPECIALLY on the fly. Give me time to plan. Give me a speech to write. Then let someone else read it. I’m a writer, not a speaker. I know what you’re thinking, “but you’re an actor.” Yes, but those are other people’s words. That’s a character I have the privilege of hiding behind. Standing up in front of humans and talking about myself? It doesn’t scare me. I’m just no good at it. I feel complex feelings and I have even more complex thoughts but I can’t put them into words easily like some. I know people who can perfectly explain what they think and feel without effort. They feel something and the words to describe the feeling pour out like a work of art. The good universe did not gift me with such talent. But that’s ok. That’s why I write. I write on a quest. My quest to write down my experience of this crazy beautiful world in the exact most perfect and clear way I can imagine is just like chasing a fairy. So beautiful, so magical, so just out of reach. The chase never ends. You must continue to believe in fairies, after all, in order to chase them.

I’m not writing about anything that makes sense. I know that. So I’m sorry if you bothered to read this post. Mostly I just wanted to get back into the habit of writing. The habit of throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks. I think this post just fell on the kitchen floor, but that’s ok, at least I threw it! I’ll throw more tomorrow. Mmmm, spaghetti.

I’ll end with this thought: Love is enough. Love is beautiful. Love means many things. Love solves everything. I’m just grateful to have so much love in my life. So grateful.

Rumi

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