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, December 3, 2012
Wishes and Choices
We can have wishes and wants, but not all of them are choices. Those that are not are not ours to bring about, and to pretend they are, to expend ourselves on anything that is only a wish, is a poor use of us. The wanting may be fine, but know the limit, investing your time or energy in something more substantive. If it happens because of what someone else does, or just in a fortuitous way, that is fine and we can be glad even if we cannot take credit for it. Better to realize we have our choices, even though we might rather have someone else's, and give ourselves to making those choices come true.
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