Vulnerability

At the recommendation of more than one friend, and as a self-pitying victim of the oppressive heat this week, I undertook to catch up on the entire season thus far of The Glee Project.


I am independent.  I am a writer.  Of the first, I've been aware for most of my life.  I am still coming to terms with that second identity statement.  Yet as the two co-exist with the fact that I am also an external processor, I have a compendium of significant and not-so-significant life events recorded in stacks upon stacks of mostly spiral-bound journals.  There are periods in my life in which these tomes go silent.  These are times, I know, when I am so extraordinarily close to someone that I my external processing occurs verbally rather than through the written word.  The second half of my year at Bible College, when I suddenly became deeply good friends with my roommate Stef.  My first and second bike trips with Ruth:

In the tent together after a day of biking

.

Since I've been home, I've written in my journal, but I haven't written much:

"...the words don't come..."

"I still feel... without."
"Still at home. Still uninspired."


My favorite episode so far of The Glee Project is Episode 3: Vulnerability.  While I commend all these "kids" as the producers call the participants, pay attention to Damien's plot line. 


Ultimately, Damien wasn't Numb.  He simply denied himself the Painful Truth, resulting in his relative listlessness.


I wonder: What will it take for me to find my Joie de Vivre again?

Wide open spaces?

Children?  

One thing I know for sure.  It's not going to be singing on TV.

(Oh, and check out the next episode of The Glee Project.  Listen carefully for the producers' comments about Damien again.)