and even now, right before an empty page - there's no promise of words, no immediate inspiration, nor plan to follow. I have no idea of the very next word to come. Yet there is the mystery, and somehow these words appear. It's the grace of every writer, of every one of us really - simply show up, ready for magic, even, perhaps, the magic of abiding in the space of absolutely nothing (seemingly) happening.
Be content with this.
Whatever it may be.
Words - or nothing.
And grace alone becomes enough.
~
Peace,
Eric
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