here we go again!

it's been a long time.
i have to admit that i really haven't been anxious to get
back to this. it seems a futile effort at writing. i wonder if
my motive for writing is to have people read it... if that's
an impure motive?
as i stare at the basket full of laundry on my floor and the
suit case still containing things i've yet to unpack i consider
motive in all things.
what is going to motivate me to wash those clothes?
what is the motive behind not fully unpacking?
why some days am i not even motivated to brush my teeth?
i'm starting to realize that we can almost always come up with
reasons we do things. we can usually muster the imagination
to share our dreams. most of the people i know have ideas
a plenty. sitting here with options in front of me and my
imagination running wild with ideas... i wonder what motives
are behind the desire? the dreams? the choices?
and what factors will i use to determine my path?
i have to admit that for most of my life the thing that motivated
me was the knowledge that there was something in it for me.
not necessarily the foremost motivation, or in a nasty manipulative
way, but looking back it was always in there somewhere i think.
the choices before me now are about me so there is something in
it for me. and, i hope, others will get something from what i
choose as well.
and as i grapple with which thing to choose i go back to motive.
someone once asked me what it was that i would crawl over
broken glass to get. i've never found anything that i could
specifically say i wanted that badly. until now.
now all i guess i have to do is find the pile of broken glass to
crawl over to get it.