Proof By Contradiction

When my then 12-year old son found out that I wanted to write a book of essays, he was confused. “You don’t have to write essays, and you want to write a book of essays?” he asked. Many times, I questioned myself too. Why am I starting this? Will this ever be complete? Who will read this? Where will this lead? After a lot of thought, I decided that these questions do not need to be answered. I can do whatever I want; I am over forty years old. If I don’t complete it, I can blame global warming. It’s a win-win. Part memoir, part musings. This is a part of me.