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.
Monday, April 9, 2012
More Than An Absence
In itself, virginity may mean little. Some of the worst people any of us know could be virginal. To make sense, or to acquire a value, it has to be more than the absence of something. It should stand for or with something else, and maybe that is poverty. Not a poverty that is only another negative virtue, a denial. Rather it should be a poverty that gives and shares, an openness to others and an offering of the fullness of what we have.
Labels:
conviction,
giving,
poverty,
sharing,
vows
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