Words tumble, some days freely, some days rhythmically, other times pell-mell over rocks and around pebbles until they finally come to their resting place. They can communicate, share, give, take and move. Saying something or putting it on paper makes it real and, sometimes, articulates thoughts I wouldn't have known I had if they hadn't gotten said, irreversibly, in an awkward moment over coffee.
Today is my 100th day in a row writing and journaling over at 750 words, one of my favorite sites on the entire Internet. I thought I wouldn't find time to journal after the babe was born and I grieved it, but this site has given me back that time and space. And so today I'm thankful for words, for their power and hope, for the joy of language.
- the ability to write and speak and thus to love the people around me
- rediscovering poetry as snippets of bliss
- conversations that resolve and heal and love
- baby babbles, incessantly telling me about a world I almost remember
- God's words, written in the Bible and spoken by the tongues of those around me
- books, full of words that note ideas, adventures, and dreams
- letters, the too-little-had nowadays experience of words on paper from loved ones
- handwriting, how forming a word says a lot about a person
- how writing, the act of it, makes me human, completes my existence here in a way little else does
- how writing is prayer, is joy and peace and being with God
- how putting words on paper means I no longer have to store them in my head and so create space
- spoken-word poetry, and the rhythms I could listen to all day
- this poem, specifically, a recent discovery that helps me find the riches in everyday life