we subscribe to news feeds. we check out friend’s blogs incessantly. how often do i jump onto twitter, just to update the feed and see if something new and interesting was posted? way, way more than i’m ready to admit.

within this overflow of information, under the surface of all the words we read and beneath the covers of the “news” we’re reading every day is a hunger. we are all longing to be filled by the stories of the world. we long to hear truth, to laugh at someone’s sense of humor, to identify with a friend, co-worker, high school buddy, internet pundit, blogging guru. i scream “someone, tell me a story worth hearing! tell me something true, something that i can latch onto, something that brings meaning to this moment.”

what if, in our constant seeking of this truth and the “reality” that lies within it, we end up filling ourselves with excessive amounts of the other kind of information to be able to discern and listen when the real stuff comes along? what i mean is, what if we have too many voices vying for our attention so that when truth comes along, we don’t notice it or we ignore it? wouldn’t that be sad?

it’s pretty easy to criticize the voices we hear every day, blaming them for not giving us the truth we long for. my question here is this, then: when do we need to just begin turning off the distractions? if we’re sick of hearing the story, tired of watching a show that doesn’t give us the truth we need, bored with reading along when we know that the words on this page are a lost cause on us, why don’t we turn it off? why don’t we walk away?

is it in the sources of information and stories surrounding us,  lacking the truth and depth and goodness we really need, that we find crutches, addiction, temporary but un-fulfilling sustenance?

there comes a point when, if i’m wise, i’ll learn to just stop paying attention.

This is not what I want. I want to create. I want to write. In the same way my body and mind tell me that I want to strap on my shoes and run for miles and miles, my mind and heart tell me that I have something to say, wrapped up in keystrokes, verbs, adjectives, and probably dropping in a proper noun or two here and there. Something compels me to write. Something compels me to want to share thoughts, even if it’s just through the simple exchange I’m having with my keyboard, a cup of coffee, and a little music in the headphones. They’re all listening along with me, just as much as I’m listening to them. It’s a start.

Something leads me further though. I want to write ABOUT something. I want to tell a story. Maybe about something I saw today. Maybe about an idea I’ve been reading on and exploring in conversations with friends. Something.

Lately, I’ve been struck by the notion of “production” or “creation”. Taking stock of my current situation, job, and life, I notice I contribute very little new material to the world I inhabit. As I indicate above, my writer’s block stifles any attempts at crafting a unique story or passing on a significant idea. But it’s more than that. What I mean to say is, it’s sometimes hard to recognize the places where I am able to exercise creativity in distributable, producible form.

I have a few friends who write, crafting poetry or novels that illustrate the depths of their hearts or speak perfectly to an emotion. They find ways to release what seems like floodgates of thought and emotion, and do it on a pretty regular basis. You know who you are.  I’m impressed.

Or, there are the musicians I share life and work with. Their art flows out in song, in melody, in sonic impact. Whether that’s recorded works or live portraits of aural beauty, these friends craft sound in emotive, life-giving ways. And as I observe, I envy and desire to be crafting as well.

As a campus ministry worker, you might say my craft and creative work is in relationships. I spend my days with a staff and broader student community, forming friendships, delving into matters of spirituality and faith. My craft, my creation, my product is the building up of people, providing aid and encouragement in the worlds of spiritual and self discovery. Unfortunately, results or products in this line of work are hard to quantify. It’s ridiculous to attempt a measurement of progress with relationships when you believe that the product is the process.

But none of those justifications relieve me of that need to create. Nor do they release me of the nagging feeling that I’m not.

Maybe, does writing provide a place to in a small way quantify some of the feelings and relational projects I work in each day? Not to wrap up one type of friendship or discussion experienced with a fellow  sojourner in a simple essay, but maybe through expressing some of the thematic elements and narrative pieces I see playing out in the lives intersecting mine. The telling of these bigger stories, stories about life and struggle, passion and faith, produces and creates beautiful pictures of the messy life we all live.

Consider this an introspective and creative attempt. And, as always, I hope to bring more soon.

PS: This attempt at “creating” something was written using a cool piece of software called Ommwriter. If you have Mac (sorry PC folks), you should check it out: http://www.ommwriter.com/

It’s time to start again. I’m no longer 23. The years have past. I’ve learned quite a bit through trials, joys, experiences under the belt.

I ask for your prayers, encouragement, and questions. My goal is to begin writing again, specifically about my experiences and thoughts on working in college ministry. Thoughts roll around in my mind all the time about what ministry with college students looks like, ideas about worship, thoughts about God’s interaction in our day to day. I want to start sharing them.

I’ll give it a shot. What do you want to hear about? What do you want to know?

If you’re visiting for the first time, welcome. I’m Seth. You can find out more about what I do by visiting the INN University Ministries and Seth James Thomas Web Design. I also Tweet (more often than I probably should), via Twitter at @sethjames.

If you’re a loyal follower (I know who you are), thanks for staying tuned. You really should check out Twitter yourself, because that’s where it’s at these days. I’m hoping to follow up this brief post with a more extended bit of writing about “Why I Tweet and why I don’t blog these days.”

To all visitors, thanks for stopping by. Stay tuned these next couple of months, as we wrap up another year at the INN and I get back full swing into summer with web design work and a bit of travel. Hope you are all well.

**UPDATE**
Here’s the link to the post: http://pomomusings.com/2009/05/18/seth-thomas-on-plurality/

a moment or two away from it all
a chance to remember the joys of warm sun, fresh wind, bright reflections in storefront windows
remembering what it’s like to finally thaw out after hibernation

pushing up, through the ground, stepping out, moving forward
something guides my path as i pace the crowded streets
no destination in mind, simply solitude and solace, a respite

maybe it’s the pulse of the headphones, pumping sound like a heart pumping blood
bass bleeding out the cold air, treble welcoming the bright sun
a song directs me out of the darkness of winter, propelled ahead

one foot ahead of the other, grass clippings becoming one with the cement beneath me
the scent drifts up, reminding my heart of warmer days, songs of summer
i hear it coming.

***********************************
A day off.
I’m giving myself a few hours to breathe.
No meetings. No planning. No computer.
A book. Strong coffee. A good place. Alone.

I’m sitting in my favorite Seattle coffee shop.
El Diablo Coffee
Rich Cuban coffee, spicy Cuban music
Angels, demons, and the like stop in for their fix
Some stay to paint the walls with their divine comedy
Others pass, moving out of the fire to the cold streets
Maybe back to the church across the way
Maybe back to the cemetery

I pause at a place between heaven and hell
No resolution here, just a holding place

The rich foam, sweet espresso, pure sugar, melting together
Take me to another time
I can hear Oscar calling, screaming for his people
That call for liberation
From oppression, repression, aggression
Maybe liberation from this depression?
Another sip, I remember that voice of the voiceless

This is good.
I need another cup.
***********************************

I stumbled upon El Diablo Coffee a few years back, when Stacy was taking
a test at SPU and I needed a place to study for my history thesis paper
on Oscar Romero and liberation theology. For some reason, every time I’ve been there since has been memorable and significant in some way. Yesterday was no different.