I. Would. Like. To. Write. A. Blog.

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I would like to write a blog but I don’t know what to write. Do other bloggers feel the same way? Or do their cups perpetually runneth over?¬†They say the desert in southern California is now ablaze with wildflowers. I envy the desert. Wouldn’t you like to awaken from a drought and blossom with lavish beauty?

Sometimes I don’t sleep well, and I’m guessing a few of you are in the same boat. I wake at midnight or two in the morning. The worst time of night is 3.40 am. It’s an island of dread. Too late to reclaim the night and too early to embrace the morning. There is no agony quite like 3.4o in the morning.

I now have a second dog — Daisy. Gracie sleeps on her dog bed. Daisy now sleeps with me. She starts in her chair at night, but at some point, like Carey Grant in the movie “To Catch a Thief,” she makes her way from the chair to the floor and then next to me on the bed. She then becomes an immoveable object. She is the Gibraltar of sleeping dogs. The great Unmoved Mover.

So much of life is a blank canvas. Some days I do something with it and some days I don’t. The same is true of the night. It is blank. What to do with our days? Our nights? Our lives? Sometimes I think the answer is this: We do something. You have a blank page and you begin to write. Pretty soon you have a blog. Or a sermon. Or a new book. You begin a relationship. You listen and share and listen some more. You begin a new job and you just start.

So much of life begins with the terror of emptiness. Interestingly enough, Christianity and Buddhism share a great love for emptiness. Jesus said you must lose your life to find it. Translated — You have to go through a drought every now and then for something new to bloom. The Buddha said, “Form is emptiness and emptiness is form.” In other words, there is no such thing as nothing-ness. Something is always lurking in our nothing.

Take a Breath today. I’ve had a little bit of a drought this week. Maybe you’ve been having one lately too. Maybe it’s not one thing, but in the words of the Dawes, my new favorite group, maybe it’s a “little bit of everything.” Whatever it is, you remind me and I’ll remind you — let’s not run from our emptiness. Let’s embrace it and see what happens. Who knows? Maybe even emptiness can become a blog.





One Comment

  1. You begin a new job and you just start.

    So much of life begins with the terror of emptiness.

    Thank you – this was to me. It came to my inbox two days ago but I read it today. Because today was the day it was needed.

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