There is no beginning that is not difficult.
I began writing for myself as an exercise well over a decade ago at the urging of those closest to me not only as a means of self-expression, but also as a challenge: recreate the act of creation. Take a thought and breathe life into it, give it a form, a purpose, a name, and watch it go out into the world and see it either thrive or wither. As much as one may nurture it, where it goes and what it does will take on a life of its own, and for many years, I was not quite ready to face what that might entail or how others might see such thoughts and look back upon their creator.
But it is in the very nature of man to see hope in even the smallest things, and in light of the hope that I still cling to, in spite of the vicissitudes of an era quickly becoming G. Michael Hopf’s “hard times”, it now appears to me that I must share that hope, at the very least so that those seeking to weather the times may find encouragement, and, dare I hope, the strength to do so.
And so, with a whisper into an empty chasm and trusting that the echoes will amplify and reach beyond my little corner of the world,
I begin.
I expect to post here once weekly, each time discussing aspects of the human experience seen from perspectives drawn from a well of voices not often heard in the West. I expect that such thoughts may appear unconventional, but it very much is consistent with my iconoclastic tendencies. However, I do not wish to be contrarian merely as an intellectual exercise - the world demands that we change to meet it, and we must heed that call for the sake of making it a better one.