Each of us have a myriad of stories to tell. Most stories are fascinating to the one sharing his experiences. They represent little nuggets of past memories. Yet, they might have little interest or value to anyone except the narrator. This is always a concern to me as I write my musings. Why do I engage in writing my personal reflections? Has my longevity truly given me insights worth sharing with others? Only the reader can answer whether he is able extract value from my musings.
A number of my cohorts have written autobiographic material for their progeny. They are responding to an urge to leave footprints upon the sands of time. My children have encouraged me to do the same. Rather than writing a linear narrative of my life I have chosen to reflect on my personal philosophy. I feel this tells more about me than telling stories of high adventure. In addition to musings I have left my children number of short stories that fictionalize my life experiences. Some of the poetry I have written deals with my life and loves. In addition we leave to our progeny numerous photographic albums illustrating our wanderings. We rarely drag them out to look at them. Quite likely our children will peruse them even less. The third generation will probably relegate them to the dustbin of history.
Allow me to return to the question of why I write my musings. Many of my comments deal with struggles I have confronted in my younger life. They speak of a personal odyssey in my attempts to become more human and humane. Many of these conflicts remain works in progress. Hopefully my blogs raise questions as to where I am in my personal development and where I would like to go. Even as an octogenarian I regard this as an important question. Hopefully my writings will stimulate others to engage in personal reflections. According to the philosopher, “an unexamined life is not worth living.”