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 23, 2012
The Relevancy Game
We play the "relevancy" game. We do what is "meaningful." We know and use the "in" words. We know and are seen with the "right" people. Yet we are surprised when others shrug, or yawn, and walk away. Maybe they do so because the game is just a game, a game in which the moves can become more important than what should have motivated them.
Labels:
meaning,
perspective
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