Sometimes

Sometimes my words get stuck. Like too many people trying to enter the elevator at once or exit it.  They bottleneck themselves and adhere to an all or nothing free flow policy.

Sometimes some of the best stories are best left untold. Sometimes they can't be trivialized or marginalized or shrunken down into two dimensional characters created by 84 keys. Many of my best stories make their appearances only in my mind, in the moments between my sleep and my wake.

There is something to be said for the sacredness that is born of knowing a thing by touching a thing. I could describe the smell, the texture, the look, the color in vivid detail.  But some things demand more honor than that. Some things deserve no less than to be experienced.

I have a box at home. I call it my box of special things. The box itself was a gift and through my life I have added things to the box that I intrinsically value.  I open the box periodically.  Handle each thing.  Allow myself to remember all of the moments I've lived that have made my life uniquely special. Then with love and care I put them back.

Sometimes I do that with my words. I am verbally stingy with the things that matter the most.

Interesting side note- on more than one occasion I have had people that know me say, "What?! I didn't know you were _____!  I didn't see that in your blog." I find that humorous.  My blog is not my leather bound. It's my space to vent, my echo. Much like FaceBook isn't the proper venue to play out your relationship. It's cyber space.  Life happens in real time.

I think this point in time is one of those sometimes. These words have gotten stuck because they know that they hold a value too deep to be relegated to an echo of an abyss. They know that if they get shared, when they get shared, they would be allowed to breathe the same air of you and I.  The kind that carries energy and life and love and laughter. The kind that is only gifted in real time.

Therefore my stories move on.

Dewberry