February 08, 2008

Reading Matter

Okay, you all must excuse me while I brag on my Dad for a minute. His new book is out!

As if this weren't exciting enough in itself, the book has a very special dedication:
To Elliot, who is the becoming of our future. May he have a long and wonderful journey, filled with chocolate and love.

Congratulations to dad--and let me recommend this book to you, if you are looking for an introduction to process philosophy! And, I must say, if you are reading this, you might very well be interested in an introduction to process philosophy, because it has a lot to say about parenting. Process philosophy, as I understand it, is partly about thinking about the relationship between "being," which is to say, being something and staying that way, and "becoming"--that is, being something that is changing all the time. If you are the parent of an infant, you'll understand the importance of this idea right away, but here is how my dad maps it out in his introduction:

Life is change. I remember Sarah, now thirty, when she was five. What a joy it was to hold her on my lap then--to hug her, read to her, and tickle her. I will never again be able to hold the five-year-old Sarah on my lap. But that is the price I must pay to have the thirty-year old Sarah be married to Brandon and give birth to Elliot. I will never again teach the six-year-old Mark to swim, but that is what must happen for the twenty-five year old Mark to be living in Argentina with Abbey, making me laugh out loud with his travel blog. Life is simply change--becoming and perishing. The joy of life is in the journey.

This book is a naturalistic view of process philosophy, but Dad has also written a guide to process theology, if that is more up your alley. An awful lot of people in my life have told me how much this book meant to them, after they read it with a church group or wherever, and you might like it too.

I must also tell you that in the same package with Dad's new book came a bundle of cookies, made by my mama, who every valentine's day sends me heart-shaped sugar cookies with pink frosting. Elliot was interested in dad's book, but dad will understand Elliot's wisdom in choosing a cookie, rather than the book, to console himself with when he fell down and whopped his head. These cookies are just as articulate as anything I've ever written or read, and mama, let me tell you that they are speaking to me loud and clear.


Beck said...

That is a very, very moving passage - and so is your final paragraph, too.

Kate said...

yea Familia Mesle!