I remember years ago a priest friend of mine wanted me to tell him what I thought his major faults were.  I thought a moment and said re-read your sermons; they deal with what your struggle with.  He was taken back by what I said, and he asked me to please explain what I meant by that answer to his question.  It was quite simple I responded, your issues simply come up in your sermons, everything you speak about comes from inside.  Of course not all of his sermons were based on that, but a lot were.  The priest is a good friend of mine, so I know him pretty good.

I guess the same can be said of writing; people often, not always, but often write about what they struggle with in their own lives.  I feel that most of my writing is more or less autobiographical in nature, it has to be.  What else have I to write about, I am not an intellectual just writing about abstract concepts that may or may not have anything to do with my life.  Knowledge for me has to be in some manner practical, something I can use and bring into the everydayness of my life.  I like philosophy, theology, literature, movies and talking to people simply because it helps me to make sense out of my life, helps me to understand this mystery of life that we are all involved in, and more often  than not do not understand. 

I write about tolerance because I struggle with arrogance, and am often, at least interiorly, not very respectful of others, though I am trying.  So I often write about listening to others, respecting them and trying to understand their position, because it is something that I often fail at on different levels.  Sometimes I make an ass of myself, others I keep it to myself, and yet at other times I can put aside my prejudices and simply listen and come to understand the other more deeply, without me feeling I have to put in my two cents worth.  Now if I was a really good listener then I most likely would not write about it, not an issue, since it would integrated into my life.

So writing coming into my life so late in my life is a great gift, since it is allowing me to slowly come to grips with some major problems that I would not otherwise be able to express. I find that poetry, at least prose is very helpful for me.  I find that a lot can be said in a few words, and that also it seems to come across as very emotional, from the heart, something that I am not always good at expressing, but when I write I seem able to do it.  I am amazed that I can write it at all. 

The older I get the more I understand that I don’t understand much at all, at least about myself.  Who is writing?  What is poetry?  Why does music affect me so much?  Why do I desire love so intensely?  And last of all why am I so God haunted?  Emotions, thinking, feeling are other aspects of my life that are a deep mystery; just being conscious at all seems to me to be the biggest miracle of all.  Sometimes I will be reading, or walking or just listening to music and become overwhelm with the simple fact that I exist!   I find that mind blowing to say the least.

I write about faith in God because I have doubts. I write about atheism because I have an attraction towards it, though I have never found reason to become an atheist, for me it makes no sense at all, yet I am still attracted to it.  I use dark art in my blogs because I have a pull in that direction also.  I suppose the list could go on indefinitely but I don’t feel the inclination to do that. 

Though I am 57, I feel very young inside, I think we are all young, young souls just starting out, this life is a womb that we will outgrow, and move on into a bigger world, perhaps this movement, from a womb to a larger world, that is also a womb will go on forever, slowly growing into the mystery of life and God.  Fantasy (?), is it any more fantastic than the fact of our own existence right now?