tongue tangled

I'm not very graceful. I think I rather stumble around clumsily on the dance floor, my two left feet tripping up the steps I want to take.

I'm not talking about a real dance floor, but the one of life.

Or perhaps it's my tongue I'm thinking of. Yeah, that's it. If there's an equivalent to having two left feet for the tongue, then I think I've got it. Getting tongue tied also doesn't help matters.

Perhaps that's why I like to write - and why the 5-minute Friday thing is so appealing and mortifying at the same time.

When I write, I can think out what I'd like to say, rethink, edit, polish. Make it look all pretty and shiny and...graceful.

When I talk thinks come out of my mouth I don't intend and I think I think it out much more eloquently. And then there's the times when I speak the things I shouldn't and my foot gets firmly implanted in my mouth, making the dance that much more awkward.

I'd like to be graceful in my speech. To experience the dance of encouraging, pleasant, kind, loving words always flowing from heart to mouth. Until I reach that point, I guess I'll just have to dance the funky chicken.

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Okay, I seriously prefer writing with my editor's hat firmly in place. Either that or choose the Book of James as my dancing partner.

Anyway...want to join the fun of writing on something for 5 minutes? Here's the link to the party at Lisa-Jo's...