Why A Blog?

Prolific.

pro-lif-ic. adjective

1. (of a plant, animal, or person) producing much fruit or foliage or many offspring.

2. present in large numbers or quantities; plentiful.

I have prolific thoughts. Pretty much night and day prolific thoughts. I'll be brushing my teeth, foaming at the mouth with spit spilling over my chin and my hair-tousled husband will look over and innocently ask, "Whatcha thinking?" 

Does he REALLY want to hear the Niagra Falls overflow of my brain's pacing all night? Does he truly want me to pull back the curtains on my worries for humanity after watching the 10 o'clock news the night before? Certainly, he does not. 

He does not want me to be prolific in that moment. Nor does he want me to wax poetic as we are making the shopping list or organizing the garage. 

But, my thoughts are epically prolific. 

They are vast, deep, alive and significant. 

And maybe somewhere out there are readers who value prolific-ness as much as I valued capture it like a moth in my cupped hands. 

The writing and the reading may be a healthy form of group therapy; like a handful of friends walking into the olive oil shop and gorging ourselves on cubed french bread morsels. We can share unique flavors and mix and match until with full bellies we leave the store laughing, the little brass bell on the glass door jingles upon our exit. 

It'll be like breaking bread in words. Comfort food with 26 characters. 

Here I want to share the texture of the thing I call healing. Here I want to share a witness of a great and glorious physician who is working to heal us all. 

Here I want to stretch the limits of prolific-ness and I hope you'll share yours in the comments as well. 

For what is life if it is not our deepest thoughts?  And what is healing if it is not a meeting of souls in a common, uncommon process? 

And with that, let's begin. (sigh) 

Please pass the olive oil.