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.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Overlooking Ourselves
While life is very simple there are points in it which can appear complex. It is at those points that contradictions appear and perhaps they arise as we try to be more responsive to others, to what we see as their needs -- even though they may only seem to be so -- and in the process overlook our own.
Labels:
complexity,
contradiction,
illusion,
needs,
responsiveness,
simplicity
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