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.
Friday, March 23, 2012
The Gift of Self
Unless people take responsibility for their lives, unless given an opportunity to do what has consequences, their lives are not entirely their own. They belong, instead, to whoever made the decisions and whether the someone else is the Welfare office, the Church, or the job makes no difference. It is a very expensive, very precious gift, this gift of self. It is not one to be given lightly, no matter what is given in return.
Labels:
responsibility,
wisdom
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