The Beginning
Today is a Beginning point. This is the first time I have taken any of my writing and published it. I'll be it is only on a blog, and not taken through any sort of process or examination, but the fact that it is out there spoken for an indefinite amount of time to an unnumbered amount of people. There is a Freedom in this, but yet there is something held back. I write, but I find that this new found freedom is so very limited.
It is limited to my imagination!
This limitation can really be almost unlimited, as free or confined as I make it. The possibilities are endless, and yet I strike out with untested wings. Is it true? If I write it, will they read it, or is it to be forever locked away in some cold room, maintained by some IT guy. This Freedom must be somewhat like a young birds. Before this bird ever feels a warm air draft draw them up to the heights, or the exhilaration of letting go of everything and plummeting to the earth, they are born to a very limited world. They are born to the world of their nest. Within their nest they are mouth fed the truths of their existence. They know only their nest, only those few things within their small world. They have no idea what it is to glide through a cloud, or to see countless sunsets from untold heights. Each of these young birds has their day though. They have a time in their life, where they must let go of everything that they know and trust in the wind. They must fling themselves over the walls of the nest and spread out their wings and trust that in what they can't see will hold them up. They have countless time tried to stretch their wings out in the nest, but there was never enough room. They had been confined and smothered by the inability to spread their wings, and operate as they were created to. That day must have been a culmination of both great fear, and of the thrill of anticipation. Ohh, to through every thing aside and trust. What a thrill. There is a kind of freedom that is to be had.
It is limited to my imagination!
This limitation can really be almost unlimited, as free or confined as I make it. The possibilities are endless, and yet I strike out with untested wings. Is it true? If I write it, will they read it, or is it to be forever locked away in some cold room, maintained by some IT guy. This Freedom must be somewhat like a young birds. Before this bird ever feels a warm air draft draw them up to the heights, or the exhilaration of letting go of everything and plummeting to the earth, they are born to a very limited world. They are born to the world of their nest. Within their nest they are mouth fed the truths of their existence. They know only their nest, only those few things within their small world. They have no idea what it is to glide through a cloud, or to see countless sunsets from untold heights. Each of these young birds has their day though. They have a time in their life, where they must let go of everything that they know and trust in the wind. They must fling themselves over the walls of the nest and spread out their wings and trust that in what they can't see will hold them up. They have countless time tried to stretch their wings out in the nest, but there was never enough room. They had been confined and smothered by the inability to spread their wings, and operate as they were created to. That day must have been a culmination of both great fear, and of the thrill of anticipation. Ohh, to through every thing aside and trust. What a thrill. There is a kind of freedom that is to be had.
posted by Jacob at
11:23 PM
