(from May 28, Wilder Day 3, evening session)

Things. There are many .There are some that seem too insignificant to tell. Some that seem too foolish to speak. Some that are outrageous.Some that I have begun to tell but have been silenced to soon to finish. Some that leave me shameful and leave me unable to utter. Some that embarrass me, or would embarrass you.  Some that are wearisome and boring.  Some are petty and not worth the breath it would take to shape them into words, or even syllables. Some are too close. Or too abstract. Some are better left unsaid, 

Perhaps the multitude of unspoken phrases are the very litany that forms the liturgy of my daily wandering mind to the point that my brain collapses in nonsense and impedes me from coherent conversations with you. Perhaps the unspoken verbs and adjectives – the ones that marinate in my silence – are the very ones that hold my tongue hostage from any basic and ordinary discourse between us.

What are the things I haven’t told you? Too many to begin to list. Too many unspent energies, unrealized desires, unattempted dreams.

I fear that if I shared the things I haven’t told you it might lead you to believe that I have regret.  I don’t – that’s the truth. I will confess to moments of “what if…” from time to time, but regret is too toxic to dabble in. Regret would take me to dark places that I may never come out of. Regret means I wish some things had not happened and others had ended differently, and there is too much good in my life to ever for a moment think that any of these puzzle pieces are anything but divinely placed. Be sure of that.

What are the things I haven’t told you? Are they better left a sacred jumble tucked safely away in the back of my brain? Are they safer securely contained and remaining unformed?

Could I ever begin to list them? I can’t. It would sully them, To make them tangible renders them too easy to dismiss. To critique. Too easy to give into the temptation to defend. Too easy to try and justify or explain. Too stupid and dull when they are too precious to be reduced to something dirty. As long as they are unspoken they are safe. Even in moments when I desperately want to be heard, or share, or articulate. I am safer when the things I haven’t told you stay unsaid.