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 30, 2013
Getting Better
He agrees it was what was best and that it was, in fact, the only alternative. He could think of no other way to do it, but then he asked what else there might be since he did not want to do the only thing. Being better was O.K., but getting there was something else, and that idea of having to be better forever was something else all together. Talking about it was easy, even exhilarating, but doing it was so far beyond talk, and that was the tough part.
Labels:
action,
being well,
decisions,
doing the best you can,
fear,
therapy
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment