I was talking about an ideal vacation: books, great food that I don’t cook, friends that I don’t feel the need to impress… there was more in that verbalization.
I’m trying, trying with all I am, to get to that place…the place where I don’t feel the need to impress, or even do my best. It’s not about me quenching my desire to care, to choose carefully my words. Words are arrows and all. They slay and wound with love. I am not renouncing my call to wield well.
But, there is a place – a dwelling – a moment between… rarely known… with a safe, secure sentinel, in a garrison of grace.
The strong listener who can hear, hold and not tremble.
Where… all impressions will be the marks of bent and twisted characters. Contorted beyond recognition, I hope… I star in these long silenced stories.