My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Reactions to Us
We cannot be responsible for reactions to us. Whether people accept, like, hate, tolerate, or venerate is within themselves and not our concern. Yet I think we sometimes alter our message or ourselves, so someone will look favorably upon us, so they will recognize themselves rather than us in who we are.
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