Just a Thought at 10 (Pat and Marsha)

This week marks the tenth anniversary of Just a Thought.

I’ve been writing for10 years and formally blogging for five. I hope occasionally to touch upon a topic that resonates with you.

Why do I publish these thoughts?

Good question. 

I decided to revisit some old posts and found a reoccurring theme: memories in need of mending.

The unfinished business of a life.

  • Writing final chapters of long-abandoned stories
  • Closing circles on unresolved relationships 
  • Healing wounds left too long to fester 
  • Saying goodbyes that were never spoken 

And yet, how do you mend something in the past when your needle and thread exist only in the present?

What I found was each time I shared a story honestly, without any varnish or adornments, it came back to me at least a little more finished. What I mean is, without the lipstick on the pig, I discovered the pig actually looks pretty good.

Over the years, through this weekly exercise, old pains have faded and a more coherent story of life has emerged.

Just a Thought has been my witness that we can get beyond our fear. We can have another bite at the apple of our yet unlived lives.

My discovery about a broken life is the same discovery made by countless others over the centuries, in a thousand different idioms.

And that is, in the act of confession — grace abounds.

”Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: ‘You are accepted.’ You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know. “ ~ Paul Tillich

Just a Thought has been my ongoing witness that the very act of acceptance is — change.

I will not die an unlived life
I will not live in fear
of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible,
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance;
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit. ~ Dawna Markova


I’d like single out a few people to whom I owe a debt of gratitude 

My beloved wife, Marsha, who scrupulously proofs and edits each post is herself a gifted therapist, a brilliant writer, as well as a meticulous editor. She has been my friend for 46 years, my wife for 25 years and my partner in this enormously interesting endeavor.

Mati Caccione created the JAT web site and patiently solves every technical glitch that comes up.

Geoff and Kay Nixon were instrumental in getting the blog started.

Quite a few of you have contributed posts along the way. These are welcomed and appreciated by me and by readers. Thank you!

I’ve asked Marsha to share a few thoughts of her own on this 10th year:

I have observed Pat as this writing endeavor has evolved over the years. At first, it was strongly focused on sobriety and recovery. Over time it has broadened to include all manner of life wisdom. My job is mainly to proof and polish. As you might imagine, my close reading of Pat’s work often generates dialogue between us, sometimes collaborative, occasionally a little heated, but always enlightening. I’ve always thought Pat is part priest and part raconteur, mixed together and presented with enthusiasm. He gives us a gift every week by channeling these into the written word.

I want to make a plug now. Wouldn’t you like to submit a post one of these weeks? It’s wonderful to hear different voices in this forum. and everyone has something to share. The link at the bottom gives you a sense of what we’re looking for and includes a way to email me. I would be happy to talk with you. So think about it!

Thank you for spending a moment with me on Sunday mornings. Thank you for listening to what I’ve been thinking about. Thank you for helping make sense out of my life.

Maybe together we can look back on our lives and say, “It’s been a pretty good life.”

Just a thought…

Pat and Marsha

Copyright © 2020 Patrick J. Moriarty. All Rights Reserved.

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