Beginning

So, here I am.

I find myself here quite by accident.  By following a footstep.  But it is a place I was kind of looking for somehow.  For some time now. 

I needed a place to search.  To expound.  And as I begin to write this, I find also a place to confess. 

I have a spiral notebook that I keep in my little knap sack I perpetually have slung over my shoulder.  I take it out often to jot down thoughts about my spiritual journey.  Little insights and revelations that I feel are drawing me closer to the truth.  I don't have a place to explore them with others at this point though.

Maybe because I feel like they are too small.  Perhaps to confrontational in the eyes of people who might have counter views. 

I have another blog at cyberjazzdaddy.blogspot.com, but the people who read there might not be there to learn of my spiritual perspectives.

And then I find this.  Almost what seems like a myspace counter culture.  It feels different.  Like the difference between a smokey loud dance club floor on the Vegas strip compared to a quiet grassy hilltop swept with a breeze on a summer eve. 

So far it feels like a place where I can quietly post thoughts away from everyone.  A new place almost no one knows about yet so if I start down an unexpected path, I wouldn't come off like an life insurance salesman at a party, trying to steer the conversation in the direction of some hidden agenda.

I have no agenda.  Just a journey to record.  Anyone is welcome to visit.  No one is required to stay. 

I want to talk about these things that are at my core.  But these topics carry a lot of baggage for a lot of people.  It squews their perspective, makes people prematurely defensive sometimes.  Stops the discussion cold.

And I realize that I am my own I am a paradox.  Only this afternoon I looked forward to expressing the little milestones on my pathway to peace, only to come unglued on the phone in a public place when I find myself under the pressure of bills.  Using unflattering language in earshot of people I work with to describe my thoughts to my wife about the people who would want to bleed us when we struggle to make ends meet.

Then I see the cross on my desk out of the corner of my eye, and I am ashamed.  I can't even bring myself to look at it directly even though I know it's no holy relic or magical icon.  At this moment it's merely a reminder of my imperfection.  I already know that I am in no way the example to be followed to peace.  I follow His example.  Imperfectly at best.  But I know that when I abandon that path, I find only the ugly things in myself waiting to be released. 

This I confess.  That I am only a man.  But I hope to be better.  I strive to be more than I am.