Vessel for Words

I was an accomplice

in my own

frustration.

Peter Shaffer

During the last few days, challenges frustrated me beyond my tolerance for impatience.  I am challenged by technology as I just want things to work without mastering the process!

What should have been an easy transition in changing my phone number from Tennessee back to Illinois became equivalent to applying for citizenship.  I cannot imagine how people come up with false identities when I can barely find acceptance of my own.

In the meantime, for whatever reason, I was unable to post on my blog.  I accept my limitations with technology and admit most errors are my own, but for thirty-six hours, I was unable to navigate the procedure of publishing on this blog.  Mind you, I have nearing 700 postings on this blog, most of which have been created daily within the last few years.  You would think I could remedy problems of this sort, but alas, I could not.

I had access to three computers and yet, I could not achieve my long standing goal.  I became so frustrated I was emotionally on tilt.  I wrote six different posts and each one magically disappeared.  I would foolishly grieve the loss, but with courage began once again with a new topic as if that would make a difference.

Desperate, I began a conversation with those who remain invisible toying with both my head and machines. 

"Is there something in particular I need to address?" 

Long pause with no response. 

"Do you find my subject matter offensive?"

Even longer pause without a nudge to indicate which direction I needed to go.

Then out of nowhere, one of the computers began to accept my random post and all was well in my strange little world!  I had

difficulty remembering what I had written and what I had not.  Which pictures had I deleted all for not? 

Being me, I question what lesson this challenge had brought so off to the deck with my journal and thoughts.  I happen to process well with the written word and of course that process of discovery and 'knowing' it was explained why I was so frustrated. 

I love to write.  I truly feel that I am a vessel for words.  It is in the silence my inspiration arrives and flows from my hands to your ears to hear as you read with your eyes.  I don't think there is anything special I may or may not express, but it remains my intention that some little word, phrase or story will awaken a part of your most inner self.  It would seem that I believe Divine Spirit can and will work through my words to open your heart and broaden perceptions of what you mean to the world.