Paradox of Writing Mystery

Paradox of writing mystery:

I'm okay being completely wrong - this moment gives me only a temporary truth, real, yet already something other by the time I commit to written words. To write anything of life is in a sense a fictional pursuit. My wish is to write of what I perceive now, the dynamics of the moment and how certain aspects have come to meet me through view, and sounds, and senses. My practice for this, the discipline of my writing life is simply gratitude - and even this is spontaneous in appearance, noting what's been given of which to write and how it all plays across thoughts and keyboards in a creative act of pure devotion. It's not the truth that I'm devoted to, or at least not a singular, philosophical truth, but only revelation of what was momentarily so for just this one particular point in observation, a glimpse of life at play through my own participation. Words never capture this completely, my only goal is a spectacular failure told as beautifully as I'm able. That it may all be proved wrong in the very next sentence - is the paradox of writing mystery. 

~

Peace,

Eric