Walls are starting to crumble...

I find myself as of late, really tired. It's not just a physical tired although that is certainly a factor. But, there's something within me crying out for rest, for peace, for a few moments of quietude so that I may simply, and I know this sounds a bit Zen, be. I just need to stop, breathe, not speak, and listen. The problem I'm finding with a lot of this is that I am so enamored, whether consciously or unconsciously, with being busy. I am afraid of the silence. I am afraid of what, or maybe more appropriately put, who I'll find there. I'm learning more and more about myself and what I continue to find is both intriguing and frightening. I realize my infinite weakness and am overwhelmed with the utter poverty of my spirit. The sheer vulnerability that lurks beneath the surface is frightening. I find pain, anger, bitterness, hope, fear, and more. I'm not really sure what to do with it just yet but I guess throwing it out there is a start.