So, we've almost made it to the end of another year, according to the Gregorian calendar. And as such, we will all inevitably spend a few moments quietly reflecting upon the past year, and look forward to the promising new possibilities of the upcoming year. Before being able to fully engage in reflection though, I feel like the F word needs to come into play. Yes, you guessed it, forgiveness. Forgiving others and also myself.
Why is forgiving your own self so much more difficult than forgiving others? Isn't it odd how we can so easily see the incalculable value and worth of others, but at the same time be unable to find the intrinsic value within oneself?
Obviously, there are things that can never be undone or unsaid, but many infractions are really not as awful as we imagine them to be. Most of the time, we tend to have unrealistic expectations of ourselves, so we magnify our faults and failings until they are completely blown out of proportion and not reflective of the actual insignificance of the situation at hand.
My hope and wish for all of us is that we are able to forgive ourselves and others so that we can truly learn to accept and love each other.
Forgotten is forgiven. - F. Scott Fitzgerald.
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I've discovered that the only true and certain consequence of any given human action is that it will undoubtedly be perceived as a mistake by someone somewhere, maybe even by yourself, right now or at some point in the future. No matter what you do, or how awesome the accomplishment is, someone will invariably poo-poo ["pooh-pooh?"] it and consider it a disgrace. This is why I kindly recommend that you turn the music up, continue to plod ahead, do good, and ignore the naysayers.
I see it all perfectly; there are two possible situations--one can either do this or that. My honest opinion and my friendly advice is this: do it or do not do it--you will regret both. [Kierkegaard]
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So, haven't discussed books in a while. I finished The God Virus by Darrel Ray. I'll just go ahead and tell you not to waste your time. What a light-weight!
Also, I finally finished The Hero with a Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell. It had some interesting parts, but there were too many stories strung together, and it didn't flow well.
And then there was my third Eggers book: What is the What. I finished it about 1-2 weeks ago and I am so thankful to be done with it. It was of course, well-written, but it brought me to tears more than I care to admit, and it was so distressing and not fun to read at all.
Finally, I am now currently reading The Happiness Myth: Why What We Think is Right is Wrong by Jennifer Michael Hecht. It is amazingly good. I wish I had been able to take part in "the Garden"-- the coed, hedonistic philosopher's paradise retreat operated by Epicurus "where people discussed ideas with no aim but the discussion's own pleasure." And if you haven't already, I suggest you go ahead and read her other book as well -- Doubt: A History [one of my favorites!]. She also has a new book, Stay: A History of Suicide and the Philosophies Against It, which is on my to-read-list. Anyone read it already?
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It's difficult to see but those are geese walking around in the snow. A bunch of geese. Swan, whare are you?
xx
