I’ve been reading some great journals/blogs lately. Inspiring me with their beauty, art and faith, giving me a sense of kinship, reminding me of songs stored in some dusty corner of my mind or introducing me to great new bands, allowing for some excited glimpses into the life of adoption, sharing their experiences of traveling or changing that seem so familiar to me…. I’ve also been reading way, way too much news, I think. Children suffering. Too much suffering. How do these things happen while I go about my day? Can’t get past that duality still.
Maybe I am storing up too many words. Beautiful, heartbreaking, sad, lost, messed up, angry, wise, lyrical words words words. When I was a kid, I would sometimes like to hide away in my room and read books all day and night. Not the leisurely kind of reading where you enjoy every adjective or beautifully crafted phrase, but just gorging on story after story. One can get lost even in a world of circles, lines, and dots. Maybe I need to re-focus on being still and quiet with my own small voice. I’ve been feeling panicky today, reminding myself to breathe but somehow not being able to completely exhale. This panic – it isn’t about words, but sometimes I think I look to things in print for comfort – I absorb them, I devour them, and I forget to speak, to smile, and to relate when I step out the door. The shy in me sets in.
1 response so far ↓
Wyliekat // June 20, 2008 at 4:59 am
I was a gorging reader as a kid, too. I miss the time I had to read like that, though once in a while, I’ll ignore virtually everything and plow through a book. It’s somehow as satisfying as savouring.