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, August 1, 2012
Who Names You
Who people say you are is not significant until to ratify or deny their naming of you. Until you make it your own it is nothing more than an opinion or a wish. That is so whether people say, as they did with Jesus, that you are the prophet, the Baptist or a Messiah, or as they do of others when the titles are: Drunk, crazy person, someone in need of help.
Labels:
choices,
Jesus,
life's rules,
naming,
therapy
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