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, December 28, 2014
What Is Good
There is awareness, a realization that even though it has no name, there is something about which I need not worry and it is the assurance that what is good, whatever that may be, will stay so. It happens every so often and there is no need to pursue to what it may refer.
Labels:
awareness,
goodness,
realization,
reassurance,
worry
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