So, I have been holding on to this title since Friday to use as a joke and as a cop-out. I figured that if the blogging got too much for me and I fell too far behind—because I always fall behind—I could just share an empty post with this title, we would all laugh at the funny pun (ha, ha), and I could move on having bought myself a day by posting a “redacted” post.

But of course, when leaving room for magic and consciously asking for the unimaginable to come my way—and even going so far as to court (ha, ha, ha) catastrophe as I did yesterday, I have awakened the Gods of Redaction.

Redaction comes from the Latin redigere which means “to bring back, to reduce.” So to redact is to drive something back. And a redaction is the obfuscation of sensitive or privileged text.

Last night, I wrote the blog post I intended for today. It was pretty good—I spent about an hour on it and felt I could see the end shaping up. It was late, I’d hit my wall, and so I closed it up for the night.

This morning, when I came down to finish the blog, it was gone. Erased. Obliterated.

Redacted. The gods of creativity who gave me those words enlisted the gods of redaction to take them away.

Did I write something too controversial, too beautiful, too insightful? I am not sure; I cannot remember most of what I wrote, though it had nothing to do with court or jury duty. But apparently, it was not the post I was meant to share today, and this was.