A beginning.

T. S. Eliot has it that “What we call the beginning is often the end/And to make an end is to make a beginning.”  And so I wonder, what I am ending in this first post?  And is it a worthwhile ending, that this beginning should be made?  Eliot continues, “The end is where we start from.”  To what end, then, do I start here?  To say something?  To say what?  And why must it be said in typed lines on a computer screen rather than in ink on a journal page?  Presumably, it must be said here so that you may read it.  But who are you?  And will you read it?

A friend of mine says that he writes better in letters.  It helps to have a person to whom he is writing.  My journal entries, whether they begin that way or not, generally end up as prayers.  People are designed to communicate to others.  I write best when I imagine that someone will read what I have written, even if I imagine that reading being after I die.  So this is a place where I can write to people.  Perhaps I will write better because of it.  I will have to weigh my words, to ask if they are worth anyone reading.  Which is worthwhile, even if no one reads them.  And so, with that thought, I begin.  And end.