One thing for sure, I was a far more prolific (and better) writer 20-odd years ago. Writing muscles atrophy too, I guess.
It's funny that I concerned myself over the same things then as I do now; my personal spirituality and how I relate to God. I mean, you could put a journal entry from back then on this blog today and no one would know; me struggling with being a heretical Catholic with strong Pagan tendencies.
Why don't I/can't I move forward?
I think it is because I am waiting for personal revelation instead of putting myself out in the world. My experiences with the Divine have very rarely come during private formal prayer or study. They have come when I have least expected it; during a boring Mass, desperate spontaneous prayer during an alcoholic binge that brought me to recovery, and most recently counseling a spiritual-not-religious younger couple on their wedding which I will be officiating. I was not prepared for the encounter with God in any of these instances. But there God was anyway, waiting for me to get it, waiting for me to see that He cannot be gleaned from a book, that She cannot be contained by rote prayer. Learning about God and prayer to and with God are good things, don't get me wrong. But putting prayer into action, BEING prayer, is the only way that prayer works. At least for me. I am simply not meant to be a contemplative alone.
So it turns out I remain a Christopagan. I simply need to get off my ass and be the change I want to see. That means writing. That means reaching out. That means doing. That means action.
Daily Mass Readings
1 Corinthians 15:12-20
Psalm 17:1, 6-7, 8, 15
Luke 8:1-3
Weird . . . I write more when I am unhappy with my life circumstances. Looks like you write less? -- Anais
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