Message In A Bottle

I write, therefore I am. Or I am if someone reads what I have written. Each added reader of my written words triggers an exponential explosion of images, ideas, emotion, understanding…sharing. My words take form, life, energy. I become, if only for a moment. It is only for a moment because within a few lines my words and the thoughts they generate become more important, substantive, and enduring than me. I’ll take that moment, then gladly step aside and let my words drift off to be collected and examined by some fellow traveler.

To have my words drift off, never to be captured or examined, would cause the cessation of my am.

When the first pair of human eyes captured the words in Sting’s drifting message in a bottle, he lived again among his fellow travelers. He stood on his island that no longer was, and said, “I am.”

 

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