I don't know what a "blog" is...
At least to me, the word doesn't convey insight or richness.
I have little context for it...
To me, I've always wanted to create "conversation", and to share the "conversation" that has been in my head with all of you.
I read a passage this weekend that summed it up, more eloquently than I ever could...
So, I thought you might enjoy it...
"The eighteenth-century novelist Laurence Sterne once remarked that
writing ' is but a different name for conversation.'
The content and tone of a book or essay are determined by the author's perception of the reader's anticipated response to each sentence as it is given form on the page -
the reader is always present.
The book you are about to read was conceived with no other plan in mind than that of conversing with people who want to know what it is like to die."
I write with no other plan than that of conversing with people who want to know how to live... meaningfully, happily and successfully... in harmony.
"I have tried to hear how a reader might reply to what is being said." AMEN!
"By listening well, I hoped to be able to address every response as immediately and clearly as possible.
The dialogue in these chapters, however, is only the culmination of other conversations I have been having most of my life - with my family, my friends, my colleagues...
To seek wisdom in another's words is much less difficult than to find it in another's experiences.
I have looked for it everywhere I thought it could be discovered.
Even when I had no idea I was learning from one or another of the vast number of men and women whose lives have entered mine, they were nevertheless teaching me, usually with equal unawareness of the give they were bestowing."
So perfectly written and conversed by Sherwin Nuland...
I have a feeling that I am going to like this book (titled "How We Die".
And, his acknowledgment has reminded me and captured so very eloquently why these words are so dear to me, why they are indeed a conversation, and why I am so grateful for YOU and all that you teach me...
In the conversation of harmony,
Nestor