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.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Our Boundaries
We are limited by the boundaries we establish, and so if we say this is the correct or only way to act, think, or believe we can go no further and must become defensive, less welcoming, and we will feel obliged to condemn diversity -- a sad and unavoidable prospect.
Labels:
belief,
defensiveness,
limitations
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