I don't care about being interesting anymore. (But I'll die if I'm not real)

I need to think. I need to think and I need a place to think in. I've felt for weeks now that I need to get out, and get out and go somewhere to think. Somewhere away from roads, away from computers, away from everything. I need to walk by the trees, let the silence swallow me. I need to not speak for hours, but instead let myself be spoken to.

Now I think I understand what it means when people say that God speaks in a still small voice. It is most when I am in a still small place that I hear his voice. (out in the open air is not the wide world, but the small world of what is around me, and just what is around me) I need aloneness, a kind of loneliness that leaves me with no one to talk to but God, and I can't talk all the time. I have to listen eventually. There's nowhere for me to go here. Everywhere I go there are people, and cars, and houses. There is no field that I can run in, or lie down in. No grist mill to sit by. No peninsula to kayak to, no beach to walk on, or rocks to get trapped on. Nowhere to sit and think, alone.

"Wheeler sighed as if to make room for his heart to breath." I've been sighing too much like that lately. My heads been crowded with media old and new, the volume on the world is too high. Every noise makes me wince. My proverbial tongue is tied now . . . what am I trying to say? I'm trying to say that I want a home, and a home where I can walk out of my door and walk for hours and see no one. I want to walk alone and wish someone was with me. I want to clear my head, have a chapel of woods where I can preach to myself (and be able to think of better metaphors).

I want to be allowed to appear before other people in reality, honesty. I want to seem them as they are, for them to show me who they are, and to show them who I am. But I am not sure I am a person enough yet for that. Too much of me is undecided. I want to be alone for a long time so I can better know how to be with people, and how to be alone.

I need somewhere to think . . . but I can't find it.


Hayley said…
I've been feeling this for days and days now, "I just need to get away." I think, I do, I have a place to get away to. Oh how I wish the same for you.

I haven't even the little sliver of understanding, of how to be alone with God in a life full of noise. Or how to give myself over to quietness without shutting out my family and my church and my friends.

So much of the consumption of daily life feels meaningless, like empty calories that don't nourish me, but fill up all the spaces where silence should go, feeling full and empty at the same time, no room for anything real, so much as I desire it.

Living depends on being still.
Micah E. said…
How I wish I felt this way, if for no other reason than that I have a still place to surround and seclude myself in. But I don't. Almost the opposite, I want desperately to get out of my head. I want to throw myself into something and not stop to think for a while.

Maybe because I'm avoiding actually stopping to listen.
Michael, I want you to grow up and be Wendell Berry.
Lis said…
"I want to walk alone and wish someone was with me. I want to clear my head, have a chapel of woods where I can preach to myself (and be able to think of better metaphors)."

I think you do. And I think you'll be deeply met and surprised when those things come.


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