Had an interesting little conversation with a friend the other day about vulnerability.
Ironic; isn't it, that a blog might be a place to go with feelings of vulnerability? And yet, the blog is a perfect example of the power of perspective and interpretation. Over the years, there have been things read into my words that never in my wildest dreams had I ever inferred there. Some that make me look awesome, and some that make me into the scum of the earth. Much of the dirt and glory is a matter of perspective. I'm not a saint. And I'm not entirely scummy.
So, no matter what I write on this virtual page, it will remain true that my exact intention will sometimes get lost in translation. Just like in real flesh and blood conversation. There is a certain therapeutic value to putting words to vague and restless feelings; regardless of whether you, the reader, follow along precisely.
It probably doesn't matter much if you do. Reading isn't about the writer only. Reading is about identifying with threads of another. Taking a hold of that string and seeing where it leads you.
Sometimes little miracles occur. Your threads and mine weave together and create something strong. And beautiful.
And not alone.