ABSTRACT
Our subjectivity is our true home, our natural state, and our necessary place of refuge and renewal. It is the font of creativity, the stage for imagination, the drafting table for planning, and the ultimate heart of our fears and hopes, our sorrows and satisfactions. For too long we have dismissed the subjective as ephemeral and of little consequence; as a result we have lost our center and been magnetically drawn to the shallow harbors and arid beaches of unrelieved objectivity.
