It was dark when I pulled myself out of bed to set up my profile and create this post. I could make out the shape of the mountains to the north and the curve of the trees around my house, and if I looked long enough, I could see stars beyond the light pollution of porch lights and streets lights. But for the most part, the world was covered in the deep, deep blue that shadow throws over everything.

Personally I'm a fan of the dark; I tend to be more careful when I'm not sure I can see in front of me. I walk more slowly, reach out more often, listen more intently for any information I can find about my orientation, where I'm going, where everyone and everything else sits. When it's dark, I hold more closely to the people I care about. And I know that I won't be able to see whatever's coming, so I accept the reality that sometimes my power to act extends only as far as waiting and hoping and having faith.

Of course, I get reckless in the daytime, when I can see clearly (or think I can). I fancy myself the master of my own universe (to my wife, sons, and friends, please try to suppress your laughter here), which means I inevitably get myself into trouble.

I hope, in this space, to track that tricky path I'm making for myself--or that's being made for me--through life. I have no idea where it leads or what will come of my journey through parenting, through marriage, through work. I find it useful to think of myself as a pilgrim, heading for a destination in the distance that I've never seen or been to. That place may be on the other side of the world (I hope not because I don't know how I'll afford the airfare) or it may be across my living room; it's already felt like a million miles and I know I have a long way to go. But I do believe that words are the best way to get me there. You're welcome to walk along with me for as far as you like.