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.
Friday, May 1, 2015
Saying No
He says "no" within himself and every so often he says it aloud. The specific focus of the "no" is unclear. It may well be to all of life or to only what is currently before him. Whatever the source, he needs to shout away the prospect of its realization. The "no" must drive away the intruding "yes," and maybe what is so offensive is the intrusion of hope.
Labels:
conflict,
hope,
realization,
saying no,
saying yes
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