Hollow and Hallowed

Once upon a time, I turned away from reflecting and processing through writing because it started to feel hollow. Hollow, not hallow. Everything had lost its foundation, like the bottom falling out of a container.

When I gave up the words, I started to find. It was a long process, and not one I’ve since concluded. Words, words, words. Perhaps they became a symbol of futility, trying to create something when it felt like nothing was there.

Yet, I miss falling in love with the words that come, and the effort of pouring them through the sieve until they become refined and necessary. Let the words be a kind of lens, a kind of prayer and blessing. Let them amplify and light up what is of value and beauty, and bring to a point what I take for granted with unrelenting kindness.