The Hunger

Sometimes I just ache for meaningful conversation; conversation about deep things, important things, spiritual things. But I ache to hear from a vantage point and perspective on these things that is not from my gender. I don't want glib meanderings or cavalier pronouncements; I want carefully considered insights. I want "wit and grace and love and beauty" to shine in one constellation. I want to speak meaningfully about the kinds of anxieties and cares; the problems and pressures; the stresses and sorrows that beset me; indeed, that beset most of us. I want there to be tenderness beneath the honesty; compassion mixed with incision. Bravado is just another hollow, superficial, cacaphonic noise where what is wanted is real music.

It is enough now to have just expressed this longing; to have voiced this care; and to have cried aloud for help.

There is a great weight upon me just now; the earth itself is groaning under the same terrific burden...but it will not be long before we find relief. It approaches by the second. I feel spent in my life right now; not so much wasted as depleted. I must deliver a great gift before my three-score years and ten arrive and I am frustrated in this task by my own demons.