Meaning

I tried to create a new wiki to hold the writing on meaning. That writing that is to create a container for the story arc of my book. But, as I can't create a new wiki right now, I am going to start putting that writing here.

By design, I need to tuck these words away. To write about meaning is sensitive. It is our most vulnerable writing, that which gives others a glimpse into our inner self, into our soul. Into our heart.

I have not wanted to go there, hoping that the story would suffice to give glimpses and the garden would provide hints. But not for me to have to reveal. Fully reveal.

When I graduated from high school, one of my teachers took me aside. He commented on how he noticed that, when I walked the halls of that school, I always walked along the edges, holding my books against my chest. As if they were a shield to protect my heart.

Yes, I have spent my life shielding my heart.

It is a sensitive heart, far too delicate, it often feels, for this world. So I have to protect it.

Protect it with my intellect. Protect it with my accomplishments.

But I see things others don't. I understand things others don't. Many times, this does not feel like a blessing. It feels like a curse. But a curse that keeps me asking questions. Learning. I can't stop trying to make meaning out of this world and my experiences in it.

Now I am being challenged by those who love me to pull down the books from my heart. The tears well up in my eyes.

I don't want to go there, but I know I have no choice. For this is not my story. It is much larger than me. And I trust those who are asking me to go on. Go further. Into that place of deep, profound vulnerability. To share the meaning that I know in my heart but am still afraid to share.

And Campbell's words come back to me again.

>The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.