I have not written publicly about these things as of yet. I have hardly talked about them publicly. It has been hard to find the right words, or if not the “right” words, the words that I feel do justice to what I have been through and what I feel about these things. But the time has come to at least begin to publicly explain my personal exodus from the church and organized religion in general. This, I am sure, comes as a shock to some people – and to others they have but assumed it was true. I feel that for even myself, it is hard to summarize what has happened as an “exodus from the church and organized religion” – but in fact, that is what it is. So I will try to use words to explain what has transpired, why, and how I feel now. Please have grace as you read (if you read) these words. I am not claiming absolute truth (although that may be some people’s main problem with my words… not enough claims of absolute truth), but what I am trying to do is make sense of my experiences – mainly to see if where I am at is a legitimate place, or if I am just scared and running away. Because running away is not the same as an exodus. One is caused by external forces, the other is a personal choice. We will see which it has been: an exodus or an escape; or maybe both.
Welcome. There was a time when I thought blogs were worthless. I would try to have a blog and fail; try again and fail again. Eventually, my blog become a collection of poems that I posted about twice a year. So I decided to turn that into a poetry blog, which means, once again, I’m trying my hand at a blog.
Because I need to write. For me. Not for you, for me. Sure, this is a public blog and you might run across it by chance and read what I write (the chances of that happening are about 1 in 6,023,837,238 – or however many web sites there are in the world), but it’s more about me getting these thoughts out of my head and onto something. Since I can’t write very much by hand any more (it is literally hard to write more than a page because I am so accustomed to typing) this is the best way for me to process what is in my head and what is going on in my life.
So begins SouthEast 60th Ave. The street in Portland where I lived for two years – where my youngest daughter was born – where I rekindled my love for my wife – and where I began to ask the question: What am I doing with my life?
Again, this blog is more for me than you – but perhaps in our most honest, brutal, revealing states we speak best to each other. So bookmark this page, come back often, and comment – share your thoughts.