words.

so there's this song, it's by teb talon and i've loved it for a very long time. I told someone about it one time and they looked at me and tilted their head and said "is it about a boy?" and then i've never really told anyone about it again. mostly i think because it means too much. mostly because i don't think people really would get it. it's not about a boy, but it touches the thing i am afraid of the most, and it's not about being single forever or anything dumb like that. it's called "How Will He Find Me" and it's something I act out of everyday. I need to make noise, I need to say what I'm feeling or I do not believe it will have ever really been true....or something. I believe that perhaps if I don't have these ideas and I don't feel all the time and believe all the time I won't be anything at all. They'll float on through. The problem is I have a million thoughts and ideas. I want to talk about blueberry goat cheese and spinach whole wheat bread sandwiches. I want to ask Bernard if I can open an ice cream sandwich shop at the zoo and then I could bake different kinds of cookies and invest in an ice cream maker for a reason. I want to read a thousand books. I want to walk in parks with my friends. I want to nap in a hammock. I really want to watercolor birch trees and dogwoods. I want to plant a garden with those who are homeless. I want to visit Mollie at the shelter. I want to go to Starbucks and Knitch and Yougurt Tap with Mirandah and Maya. And I want to write letters. Gobs of them. Mostly to someone who lives very far away but also to my Sarah friends and to my roomates. And I think I am too spread out now. And I want to drop it all and go to colorado and drink tea and go on long walks. I watched this movie the other night where a guy basically owns only his shorts. He travels around and reads paperbacks and climbs mountains. And I just can't help but wonder. Just because he doesn't talk a whole lot, and all of this reminded me of my friend Paul, is he less alive than the rest of us? I wonder what it would be like to take a vow of silence. Or just listened and didn't let my thoughts run with every single thing. Like today- at the rock wall - i kept thinking of paragraphs of words i wanted to say but they just don't mean anything. i don't want to think unless it actually means something and i don't think the meaning comes from myself. I want to love people purely. And I want to be quiet. And mostly I want to hear Jesus, and I don't want to drown him out with all of my tangential thoughts and dreams and wants. I could cut those things out. find your feet, catch your voice - that's still where I'm at here. Also - Richard Foster says this : Silence is recreating. alright. goodnight world.