Open and a Portland Bus

The point or premise of this blog is to promote a notion of open Catholicism. And yet I have to admit that I find myself arguing less for openness and reporting more on experience from, I hope, an open Catholic perspective. But is my perspective all that different? Well, no.

At some point, or over a period of time, I made I think a healthy move away from believing that I know anything to where I watch and listen. I have surrendered a lot in the way of determination. There is little any one can do to make me believe they are "wrong." Wrong? Who's wrong? Harm comes from harm. Ignorance the same. The forces of good are plenty. The world turns.

And yet, I believe in this project.

Writing is conversation where one's best self assumes a position of dialogue with complete, eternal strangers. Well, this is my perspective. I cannot assume that the conversation is alive, as no one responds to me. Understand, I like this just fine. A word goes out. A sentence, a poem, a paragraph, an essay, etc. To be read is to be understood, if we are willing to allow that any reader's experience - even where they click and backup - is valid. Valid, True. What are these words?

I age, I age. I blog here and on iPage. How do I know myself? I am I suppose what I do now and what I have done. I imagine the same is true of others, though I am more hopeful for what they might do, while in wonderment of who they are. Would you like to know what I will do one my next day of from work? I will fulfill an ambition I have held in my heart from two years or more. That is, to take the bus to a transfer point and take a another bus, and another, and another, all being unplanned and uncharted, to see parts of Portland I have never seen with people I have never met.

All quite spontaneous. All very bland.

Writing now, sounds a bit like heaven, doesn't it? I can't wait. No, actually, I can.