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.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
In Pursuit of Depth
What is new and startling quickly becomes old and routine, which sends us looking for new newness, a more spectacular display; unless, we can abandon the need to have renewed newness and continued variety. This would mean pursuit of depth in experience rather than just change from one experience to the next.
Labels:
change,
depth,
experience
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