I would describe most of my adult life as a great unlearning — a process moving gradually from prior conditioning and habit, through blindness, ignorance, intimation, denial, recognition, acceptance, and gratitude. Is the process done? Have I reached my destination? I don’t worry about it, or think in those terms. I’m simply amazed by my good fortune. I won’t even say that I know what I know. Do I? And if so, what would the saying prove? The only sound reason or explanation I can give for anything, and everything, is love.
Read The Rambler, Numb. 5. Tuesday, April 3, 1750.
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Blessèd seed — that I can throw you, sow you, know you — makes me a flower too.
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September 17, 2023.
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[ 1870 ]
Categories: If It Had A Name
Tags: Acceptance, Aging, Blindness, Flowers, Good Fortune, Gratitude, Habit, Identity, Ignorance, Journals, Knowledge, Learning, Love, Reading, Reason, Samuel Johnson, Seeds, The Rambler, Worry
William Michaelian 