i write to believe.

I've been forcing it.  Trying to pry myself open.  After a long week of creative hibernation.  I needed to keep the sensitive capability to draw out meaning from every moment at bay.  For emotions and sensations in the middle of the political workplace are too sharp to lay my thoughts on.  They pierce.  What's more is that they remain unabsolved of a possible redemption.   I had a long discussion with Dad about the difficulties of making decisions.  I told him about what I faced at work and I saw in his face a contorted look of disbelief.  So he shook his head and told me to make people attend the trainings they needed so they will learn because it will be too hard to do it on my own. It's all easier said than done.  I circle in this story of a family organizational saga.  Much similar to the saga of the school my grandparents left behind.  Only now do I understand how difficult it has been.   So I keep prying myself open.  Searching for anything that will let me release