My first post–seems like it should be something profound or grabbing–I’m just too busy feeling guilty for writing instead of accomplishing. But I need to get used the idea that this is accomplishing something too. Through writing I come face to face with my thoughts and experiences. In the process of putting them into words, I am forced to sort through what they really mean about my world, my life, my heart. And it is my hope that my struggles and discoveries will encourage and inspire others along the way, or at least give them pause for thought. Like most things, I take my writing a bit too seriously. I reflect, formulate, write, rewrite, and do it all again. Sometimes that means that I very effectively communicate the intended idea; sometimes it means I am slightly dishonest and invulnerable and spend way too much time on something of little significance. An example? I carefully craft thank you notes–using all the space on the card to praise the commendable character traits of the recipient instead of simply writing, “Thank you for the nice vanilla candle. I love the smell and I use it all the time.” You will bear with me, won’t you?