A few weekends ago I realised that although I have spent much of the year writing and writing, it has been all the wrong kind of writing.
I thought I might have gotten away with it though: day after day, tapping away, all wrong.
Just this once, I thought, I would be earning enough to make giving up my days to the wrongness right.
It was a fallacy of thinking. I am what I am. My writing is not simply a knowledge product. It is what I think, and what I do. If the writing is too much wrong, too often, then so is the thinking and so becomes the doing, in the end. As I said: I am what I am. And I must make the time to do that righter than wronger.
Which makes me feel a bit like a cross between Winnie the Pooh (existential bear philosopher) and Russell Ackoff (organizational theorist and systems god).
But that’s good.
Posted on November 1, 2016, in Horse racing. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
Leave a comment
Comments 0