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.
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Options
He holds on to dying as an option to life, seeing its intervention as the resolution for which he need not be responsible. He is not alone with this magical thought, but as long as it is there the prospect of it happening rules out the more realistic choices, those where he would actually have to be responsible.
Labels:
avoidance,
choices,
dying,
responsibility,
therapy
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