As anyone who moved and changed schools a few times as a kid can affirm, a blank slate is at once freeing and completely overwhelming. Now, to be fair, this tabula truly isn’t rasa. I’ve had this domain for ages, and I’ve used it for writing both confessional and fictional. Nonetheless, after getting hacked a while ago (one year? two?) and clear cutting the directories, I just let this webspace sit. Rasa. Not so many months ago, I thought I might keep a paper journal, and I did … for a few days between Christmas and a trip to Italy in early January. I was briefly inspired by an Old Testament class I was taking and a biblically themed journal I received as a gift to write meditations on the resonances between the Gospel text on each page of the journal and the Old Testament story that inspired it. When I returned home from the study abroad trip to Italy, however, I fell straight into last-minute course preparation for the upcoming semester, and then classes, committee work, parenting, advising, and all the ebbs and flows of life volunteered themselves up as likely excuses and reasons to leave the more individual life (mine) unexamined.
I am happier when I write, I know. Unfortunately, I’m really apt at filling up my hours so well as to disregard that happiness is wanting.
So here is this boat — or is it a church, a cigar box, a paper bag, a bindle, a patch of earth? — filled with, what? Certainly not treasure, not in the objective sense. Yet worth considering.