Thoughts on Thinking

I find it a puzzle indeed that every so often I encounter people, strangers even, who I can’t help but feel almost as though everything changes around their existence. There is a problem, and that is my own existence and present reality, I am not an observer only, I am a participant, whether I wish to be or not, I am human and must therefore partake of the human experience. I cannot stand over all the world and observe all, but must partake of the human life, from the perspective of one, and I use that term as singular not to indicate my status as a human. The interesting thing is that through written word mediums, there is a secondary social consciousness, which is a lot more linked, it is a shared consciousness we all possess. Compare that to our primary consciousness which consist of observation and the present moment alone. Our secondary consciousness consist of the written word. It has been a part of the human experience in one form or another since the advent of writing, but at no other point has the written word been so prevalent in communication. We are more accustomed to text then speech now. Speech is, for the most part, an inefficient method of communication, comparatively speaking, to writing and reading.

As for myself, I do not know what my most effective action from here would be. Seriously, I have so many directions and no direction that I have to only but speak them into being, and they would be. I wish I could be transformed, to speak forth openly and in confidence. I am tired of being fearful and shy. I want to be something new, but genuine. How do I break free of my dreadful shell? It seems at times my own hell. Who can set free the beast within, who can take me, and remove me, free me, transform me? Do I not seek the fullness of God? To see fulfilled the fullness of my being. To be transformed from glory to greater glory still. My heart it stands, it fails, and ever do I hear desires call.

I desire to break free of the weight of a bridled tongue, a tongue cloven to the roof of my mouth by fear and pride. I refrain out of terror and of pride, but mostly the fear of reaction and rejection. It must change. I cannot live in fear of my voice. To speak would be to change the world, my world at least.

Let the fire within speak forth in gentle speech.