My father died when I was a boy. He was a good man, but I simply can’t remember too many things about him. This is because he was a very hardworking man – a workaholic. That is why I do not have many memories of him.
Thanks to Dad, I too am a workaholic. But long ago, I made a promise to myself that I would make time, lots of time, for my own children. I would give them the advice, memories and experiences that I do not have. But for some time now, that promise has been stretched beyond the breaking point and I can no longer ignore it or rationalize ignoring it. I can’t continue with my selfishness.
Over the years, I have informed readers that my involvement with these issues of teleology and life have been a hobby, practiced on the internet. It’s fun, intellectually stimulating, and very interesting. But since time and energy are limited, what this has meant is I have had to choose between my involvement with these issues and my involvement with my family. I used to get around that choice by sacrificing sleep, but the body has taken that choice away.
What this all means is that since my involvement with this blog has been the major ingredient in my involvement with these issues, this is my last posting to Telic Thoughts, as I am retiring from this blog. I have promised my family to spend much less time on the internet and, for me, ‘internet’ essentially means this blog. I’ll still post substantive material once or twice a month over at the book blog, but this is the place that has obviously consumed most of my time. Too much time.
I have truly enjoyed my experiences with the people here, so there is a real sense of sadness when leaving. You are a unique set of individuals, with interesting perspectives and, more often than not, thought provoking positions and questions. I’ve enjoyed the humor, the links, the arguments, the passion, the challenges, and yes, even the fights. I don’t know of any other place that can substitute for this corner and the folks who are here, my fellow contributors and those who regularly comment. I will miss it. And you.
Some of you may be disappointed with my decision, others may not care, while yet others may be gleeful. Some may try to read between the lines, thinking there are other forces at work. Yet the only force at work here is my father, my promise, and my family. I’d like to believe that my father would smile at this decision, saying, “Good job, son.”
But I can't say for sure.
And I want my children to be able to say for sure.
So, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you all and wish you only the best. Farewell.