Nature and nurture
Santayana’s The Last Puritan was on the doorstep this morning when I stepped out to see how warm it was (or wasn’t). It was tightly wrapped and rewrapped, having come through many hands from 1936. The copy was more worn than I had hoped, but it won’t fall apart in my hands: it’s sturdy enough.
I began, after coffee and two slices plus a tiny heel of raisin toast. I read the prologue and thought, “worth the $8.39 in itself.”
Nature and nurture. We are born all the same, but we learn to love beauty or goodness from what we are allowed to see and wish for; we learn to be guided by our bodies or to reprehend them as they take us where they will and we choose whether or not to take the journey eyes open or shut.
When you count all the little things as I do - showering, shaving, washing the breakfast dishes - there is always far too much to get done. And I am both anxious to get it all finished and incapable of beginning because I won’t be able to get through half of it.
When you count all the little things as I do - showering, shaving, washing the breakfast dishes - there is always far too much to get done. And I am both anxious to get it all finished and incapable of beginning because I won’t be able to get through half of it.
03.31.18
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