May 09, 2006 - 10:24 a.m. Home again. And it's quiet. What a luxury to be completely alone (well, except for the dog) in any significant space. I know that my enjoyment of this solitude will only last for a day or two at most, but for now it is a welcome reprieve. I miss writing my life here. It's easier to update when I'm at home because I did so for so many years. At home I actually have five or ten minutes to type out an analysis of what has happened. I think I would like to be more consistent, if only because this makes for a good record when I go back and reread the entries. There are some entries in which I am so impressed with my own ability to articulate my mental/emotional state. And now it seems that the last two years are lost. This is not the only source of memory. I have some things written down in paper journals (but paper journals get stale) and so much is invested in conversations. Spencer and Dr. Purser and Rebecca and my mom and others have become the recepticles of my thoughts. Nevertheless, I have learned that we understand to the extent that we can articulate something in word-form. Writing has the advantage of revisability over the spoken word. I believe we are still very much in the same place that we left off. The uncertainty of the future still looms cloudy above us. I'm not sure what will happen or for what end I am daily being prepared. I walk as with crutches. And fortunately I have never been abandoned, never let go. Cryptic, I know. But the extent to which we understand is measured by the clairity of our words. ...before & after...