Feuillemort

I admit, I've been avoiding this space a little.

My time in Columbus is rapidly drawing to a close and I have this instinct to document it. I want to capture every moment of it and bring this place back to Indiana with me. I've written down a hundred topics, planning to flesh them out and update you all on my life here as well as maybe inform you on some theological realizations I've had.  I've read so much, my head is full of musings.

But when I sat down to write, nothing would come out.

Every thought stammered to a halt. The notes that had had so much potential suddenly seemed dry. My witty stories and wry observations fell flat when they appeared on my screen.

Life had become too real and too bright to be captured by me. More talented artists could have transmitted the emotions and moments of the past month into essays and stories, but I can't. Not right now.

I think, in a few months, when I'm settled back into dorm life, or even farther out, when I've finished school and am trying to get a handle on the new scope of my life, I will begin to really process the lessons I lived here. To try and wrap my head around it all now is so overwhelming, and it keeps me from experiencing the day to day of life here.

None of this to day I'm going to stop writing in this space until I'm back in Indiana. But it is to say I won't be killing myself to keep it updated.

Thanks for reading. Grace and peace.



feuillemort
(n.) the color of a dying leaf