The immediacy of the thought is almost alarming – You aren’t qualified to be writing a blog. . . and who would read it, even if you did? 

That has always been the only argument presented when I’ve considered doing any blogging, and it’s almost always worked. What has changed, then? Somehow, the rational part of my brain advised the rest that, if I waited until I was “better qualified” to do what amounts to keeping an online diary, I would never, ever start one.

Oh, how many things there are in my life that, by conventional wisdom, I’ve absolutely not been prepared to start. Jumping headlong and faithfully into those things has brought shreds of wisdom, lots of joy and laughter, and a great deal of pain. But, it’d be silly to think that I or anyone is unqualified to write down their thoughts in a blog.

After some thought, I believe I’ve come to the actual issue at hand:  what really stopped me from starting a blog was not any lack of qualification, but instead a desire to create beauty without presenting any vulnerability.

Spoiler alert:  that doesn’t work.

I have been a guitar player nearly 20 years now. Starting young was so much fun — all I wanted to play was power chords — and before long, I played so hard that I wore out my thin, brittle guitar picks on which I had learned to play.

Naturally, I decided I needed stronger guitar picks. That certainly did the trick, until another problem arose — I began shredding guitar strings. I broke them at a truly astounding rate.

“Well! That’s no problem, because the fine musical manufacturers of the world make thicker gauge guitar strings! I am INVINCIBLE!”

It wasn’t until I started realizing that I wanted to hear more beautiful music — not just good and loud, but beautiful — that I started caring less about the gauge of strings I was using. Gradually, I gained desire to make lovely sounds come from my instrument, not just power chords at top volume.

As I nurtured that desire for beauty, I eventually broke fewer and fewer strings on my guitar. In fact, I now can’t remember the last time I actually broke one.

I don’t want this to be misunderstood as a smearing of hard rock or loud guitar music. I believe that beauty can come through that in its own way. Where that beauty and art comes forward, though, is through the artist’s vulnerability.

The Google Dictionary (because, let’s be really honest here, that’s the only dictionary most of us use anymore) defines vulnerability as “the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally”.

That’s a fairly disturbing definition, especially when one is considering music, or art of any kind; however, I believe it’s important to remember that word and definition when approaching any type of subjective, creative art. The musician, the writer, the sculptor, the dancer — they expose their emotional state, or their soul, where so often art finds its roots — to the possibility of being harmed by others.

Now, I’m CERTAINLY not expecting to have enough readers of this blog to generate any type of response, emotional or otherwise. But that does not extinguish the desire created within me to create beauty through vulnerability.

My personal desire for, and fear of, vulnerability, is rooted in my desire for connection with other people. I want to be closer friends with the friends that I already have, and I want to meet new friends, so that we can journey through life together. Not necessarily because we like the same things or just want to feel good about ourselves, but because I believe that it is not good for man to be alone. Isn’t that written in some book somewhere?

Using this avenue, I’ll make known my desire for loving God, loving my family, and becoming a better keeper of the things I’ve been given. There will also be some less important things along the way, such as more poorly contrived guitar-string metaphors, truly useless baseball ramblings, other general silliness, etc. My hope is that unpacking the boxes of my mind through writing will be a healthy and amusing practice for me; I encourage others to do the same.

We can find beauty, and vulnerability, in the world together, through each other, and most certainly through our Creator.

And in the immortal words of Red Green, “Remember, I’m pulling for you. We’re all in this together.”