Big issues, little courage
I've always said I'd rather write about a crack in a sidewalk than just about anything else.
There are no expectations and anything I write will shine when compared with the lackluster starting point.
Then there are the great stories. The artist I interviewed who painted enormous canvases showing the suffering of Christ. The fisherman who devoted his life to performing the Carolina blues, and was eventually lauded internationally but still unknown here in the U.S.
His Holiness the Dalai Lama.
Anything I write will fail. I have little courage for meaningful topics. Still, I have to try.
I am finding it impossible to write anything about His Holiness. Only when I write in medias res, starting right in the middle and not saying anything of consequence, do I manage to actually say anything at all. Forget trying to say anything meaningful.
I am trying to write a column about His Holiness. Do I talk about how scared I was to meet my hero? Do I mention that I feel sad about such a good man having suffered so much? Do I describe how Buddhism has colored my world, including my understanding of my Christian faith and scriptures?
I go back to the blank page, the square white judge. More tomorrow.
