four am and everything here is cold and quiet.

there is rain outside, and i think it's a bit warmer out there than in here.

and in here the air is wet, it's curling book covers and corners of calendars.

thinking about a contemplative life, what is missing from mine, the solitude of that,

do i need?

what do i need?

is it that or is it

what do i want?

tried to explain tonight what it feels like to at once feel more comfortable in yourself than ever before, but also so lost, more lost than burnt maps and soot covered windshields.

i could feel myself fall into anything in a minute, if it intrigued me the right way, if it engaged me.

what privilege to be able to choose which way to go. i forget this so often.

still afraid to talk about god, but i met someone tonight with folded hands and a searching mind and it made a quiet in me.

so fantastic the way we can affect each other, when we have the sense about us to talk in clear voices and listen with eagerness.

i miss that, i crave it in all interaction, i chastise myself for not having the strength required to demand it.

i am trying. i am falling down, but i am trying.