The beginnings of an editorial.

Monday afternoon. I sit down with my computer. I begin to wonder what might be valuable to write this week. Every week it is the same. And this week I don't want to simply delete my first attempt.

Here it goes. This weekend I was invited to reflect. To think about the bigger issues of life. To simply keep my pen on the paper. To write the alphabet if I found myself without ideas. And today, today I sit in front of my key board ready to write an editorial. What do I want to write about? What is important enough to me to publish in the paper this week? Is there anything of importance? Is there anything that I think I can effectively communicated?

The environment and peace. How we are trying to move local but by doing so we forget the broader community. How the science is proven but there are no steps backwards. How nothing can change because we think short term. Planning. How to plan. Do we plan.. do we need to plan? How does this relate to EMU. I'm not sure yet. I’m still thinking. Hum.

But I don’t know how to make people listen to what I mean. I can write more rhetoric, I can ask more questions, I can talk about why I feel called to be a prophet and then about why the prophet’s role is horribly inconvenient. I can think about why I don’t exactly know what to write. And yet, I feel like I should be a social critic. Shouldn't a social critic be able to address these issues?
I can scream, I can yell. I can even cry. I can let people know! But can I actually write? What inspires me today? What do I want to write about?

And then I found myself writing about community and vulnerability. A good topic. More relevant to a campus dealing with depression and suicide this month. But not exactly what is on my heart today. Because the questions on my heart are finding a rather tough time making it into pretty words.

Comments

  1. JoshuaFebruary 26, 2012 at 12:18 PM

    you are a fantastic sister and make for a decent prophet. Scream to the clouds, Hug to the hills, love to the sunlight, Dance to the depths.

    Hugs,

    Joshua
    p.s. In Hope that "the walls will all come down"

    ReplyDelete

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