creating self anew each moment

It's been quite a while since I have written in my blog. Part of the reason I haven't been writing daily is that I went through a pretty intensive schedule and course which kept me from writing in any dedicated way. Well, as some might say it, "life happens" in ways that can hardly be written about, much less warrant lengthy writing. In fact, sometimes life is like a steamroller that goes on its way, and simply resists "being written".
   Coming back after a relatively long absence has allowed me to think about why I want to write, and what the benefit of writing is for me. Writing is therapeutic for me, quite simply. It's therapeutic in the sense that it allows me to organize not just any thoughts, but the one's most conducive to helping me manage difficulties and move forward. This doesn't mean that what I write is necessarily going to be profound (or even interesting) for that matter, but it has to speak to broader and deeper interests that engage my whole being. That is why a lot of what I write in this blog is related to spiritual teachings, if only tangentially.
  I want to write about the idea of not being able to predict in advance one's place: being in a quagmire, a mess, which is really the heart of meditation, and not even being able to write sensibly about it. I think that this needs to be written, even when it's not clear, and it has no comprehensible logic to it. It is about being able to briefly suspend judgment over whether a situation warrants me being there, instead posing the question, "what needs to be done here?" If I am spending too much time thinking and fretting over "my" place in a conversation, then this is nothing more than trying to validate an old sense of the self. Now what happens when, instead of doing this, I just receive what is happening and respond to it from the deepest heart of the unasumming, a kind of openness? What happens is, I start to create a sense of place within the conversation and fully inhabit it with the furnishings of my current words, rather than falling back on a sense of the solid, the real, that was supposed to support who I am. It means that this self is being continually created anew.