There are so many things that I think, which I know I simply cannot commit to writing. Each statement would need copious explication, defense, further clarification, ad nauseam.  I remember my mistakes on Facebook. They led to bitter and acrimonious quarrels that did little more than cost me friends and never did elucidate my argument. Bald-face statements, despite any truth involved, seem to do little more than shock and cause lasting misapprehension. 

But I watch mostly television news and that leads to a great many such blunt declaratives loitering about in my head. Eric Garner. The riots in Missouri. Social trends. Robin Williams. Lauren Bacall. Rape, molestation, abandonment. Israel and Gaza. Endless political hogwash. Fires, floods, Ebola. Bears in New Jersey.

The innocent query, "What's on your mind?" could elicit a rather frank answer. 

However, I am trying to more readily remember the warning against 'idle words' in Matthew and the strong caution in James concerning the tongue and its power to lead us into sin, error, and fault. The first defense against sin must surely be prayer, but the second I should think would be to shut one's mouth. And in these days of dangerously convenient self-publication it would be just as wise at times to curb the itch of the fingers to type as proxy for the tongue. 

I think many things that I should neither say nor type. True or not, they in their embryonic and un-nuanced form, tend to fall short of the Good, the Beautiful, and the True. I doubt that in this case, "one out of three ain't bad." In my experience, having just the one is rather like possessing "a little knowledge."

All of which may be somewhat ironic to say on a blog. 

Currently I am idle. This is my black dog. I'm not a self-starter. I'm a creature of habit and routine who responds well to being useful and needed, set to serve, but becomes grouchy and slothful when rendered vestigial by circumstance. I'm waiting. I've been doing a great deal of waiting; twelve years of it. And yet that time has not been completely wasted: there is reading and prayer and writing and reflection. These are certainly to the good and help to occupy the empty hours. But the irony of my nature is that I'm at my most voracious in reading, my most fervent in prayer, my most creative in writing, and my most honest in reflection when I am busy about other things. When I'm working. 

This has always been just a wee bit frustrating. 

Que sera sera, yes? 

I have some errands to run today. Lord knows that being out and about in the NYC metropolitan area will provide ample opportunity to curb my tongue and even more reasons to pray. It will also make the reading and writing that I return to much the sweeter.