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.
Saturday, August 9, 2014
Through Another's Eyes
The more we look through another's eyes the less accurately will we see. All that we will notice is what we find so unsettling and offering it to someone else only precludes our understanding, and our coming to terms with what we have so far only feared.
Labels:
acceptance,
fear,
perspective,
understanding
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