All Good Gifts

I’ve been a writer all my life…or at least a talker. I’ve been a teacher, a therapist, a preacher, and lately, someone who observes and comments on life in general. But I’ve always known my audience and have been able to see and respond to nearly immediate feedback. Blogging is quite different. The thoughts and words are put into a bottle and cast out upon the waters. Perhaps they will be received and read. Perhaps they will simply rock upon the ether waves of the internet. Who knows? So, in the past few months as I have settled into the private life of retirement, I have been experiencing a peculiar form of writer’s block. I find that I no longer know exactly what to write about. Without a syllabus or a Lectionary to impose the subject matter, I am adrift in an ocean of possible topics but unable to decide upon which one will serve as my raft for next stage of the journey.

If you are reading this, you most likely know me and read what I write. Hence this invitation. What, if anything, would you like to hear from me? I would love to hear from you, even if your message is “Enough already. Be Quiet!”

BTW, the cantaloupe was more than breakfast today. It struck me as a metaphor for the process of writing. The tender flesh and fragrance of life are only accessible when its pebbled surface is penetrated by an object capable of breaking through the rind without destroying the essence of what lies within.

Dayenu, Glyn