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, October 9, 2013
About Things
About the things in life we can ask are they necessary, to what extent do they complete us and to what aspect do they contribute. If they are not essential, we need not get rid of them but we should know that we could, that we have a choice to do without them. We would be no less were we to make that choice, and might even more more if it would bring us closer to the center of our being.
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