Just another day. . . . .

Tonight, one of my wonderful freshman girls asked me to proofread one of her papers for college writing, and I found at the end of the paper, I was crying. It was such a beautifully written expression, about the death of her grandpa, and how she sought expression as a release of her grief. I could not keep from crying as I walked out of her room and out of the dorm, as if something had broken inside me. . . . . . .the need for expression as well. The need for expression of grief and of beauty and of joy and of passion and of everything; as if the only adequate expression at that moment was my tears. I allow myself to go through each day, sometimes just "surviving," I guess you could say; but yet I know that there's so much more to life than just merely surviving. There's more to life and to relationship and to family and friendship and pursuit of the divine than I ever assume, and I don't want to simply survive this life, I want something more.