I think I've done too much talking and not enough thinking today. With less thinking comes less writing. I'm not sure it's been entirely productive, but I think the action of the day has revealed some of the ways this new thinking is changing me.
It's affecting the way I talk. It's moving the way I listen. And it is absolutely altering what I do when I hear something I don't like.
The world is daily reminding me of tragedy, evil, and brokenness. Often, I'm not sure which is which, walking towards me on the sidewalk or in a panicked text from a friend about a new loss. I just see evidence of not-rightness everywhere. And while I can't judge the reasons or results, I know my response: love.
Love isn't something passive. The love I've been writing about - centering on - for the last few months isn't a nebulous feeling or cosmic distance. It always shows up actively: serving, giving, sacrificing.
I think I've got a lot more centering to do, but I'm trusting that there will be space enough for that to happen while I start moving.
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