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.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Faith In Ourselves
Life is a simple process, one into which we invite complications on the assumption that it gives us a measure of importance, or perhaps we cannot easily tolerate the simplicity of it. We are maybe unwilling to believe it can be this easy, but it is best lived by eliminating the pretense that we have choices we do not have, or that we live lives other than our own. We should live our lives and make choices in ways that are faithful to ourselves, and trust that other people in their lives will do the same.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment