...upon Whose direction I feel I cannot help but rely, made a stellar introduction this evening as someone offered me a prayer outside the church. Moved by the gesture, I bowed my head and closed my eyes, because I really didn't know what else to do.
Except for in these latter posts, what I find to be missing from my blog is emotional vulnerability. I write with my head. Often absent from my work is a sense of exposure, a bearing of the deepest and most beautiful parts of myself.
Tonight, I break the cycle of strictly critical thinking with a critical approach to perceiving spirituality. There's a big difference between writing what I've internalized, and writing in a manner that not only speaks to but of me.
Kiana asked that God bless this blog. I believe in a Higher Power, but the God of many people's understanding evades my personal comprehension. What scares me is that Whomever Kiana relies upon for her own spiritual guidance seems to have honored her request that this blog be blessed in the interim.
It scares me because...I don't know. I just don't know.
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