I parked the car in the quiet lot, and locked it behind me.

The day was bright and sunny, with a bite to the air. On campus, the clock tower loomed tall over the silent buildings.

I couldn’t explain exactly why I felt so happy, but I was happy, from the top of my head down to my feet.

The air smelled soothing. I walked with my bag over my shoulder to meet with students on their midterm grades.

Wood Bookshelf in the Shape of Human Head and books near break w There’s nothing like doing a job you love, and caring about the people you encounter while doing it.

When I closed my eyes an hour later on the phone with a friend, I saw the mission of my life so clearly. The hardships I’ve endured will become the stories I tell others, and speak out about.

The difficult characters in my life will be characters in a novel so vivid and bright, and my readers will know what they must do when they live through such fictional inspired experiences.

Or so I think.

And so I sit down to write this evening, and I feel like every word that appears underneath my fingers is utter and total waste.

I think of all the places I’ve been and stories I am waiting to tell, and I stare at the screen and see blank.

It’s hard to offer wisdom on a daily basis. It’s challenging to think of something new to say.

I used to try to fill the air in an effort to evade the silence, and now I savor the silence so very much that I cannot imagine filling it with empty words.

Do you ever think about the people who come into your life and seem to belong there, only to realize that a few years later, they are no longer part of your woven web?

The people who know you in one context cannot imagine you thriving in another setting.

Question-sign-with-cracks-000010152161_DoubleAnd the ways you know yourself only matter in context of something bigger, greater, meaningful that you yourself are tied to.

I don’t know what I’m saying today. I only know that the words come and I put them on the page.

Sometimes we say our most inspired things when we don’t even know what we’re saying.

On the border between Pakistan and Afghanistan today there was an earthquake of 7+ magnitude. An expert spoke of deep and shallow quakes, and I cannot now remember which one we feel more.

When the plates collide, what are we left with on the surface?

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