The Comfort Found in Good Old Books

Rachel reading "Amelia Badelia" in her guest suite. . .

"We read books to find out who we are. What other people, real or imaginary, do and think and feel is an essential guide to our understanding of what we ourselves are and may become." --Ursula K. LeGuin

My friend Kristi drew my attention to the August 21 passage from the Simple Abundance Book. Do you have a copy of this wonderful little book? It's worth perusing. The chapter was entitled "The Comfort Found in Good Old Books" and praises not only reading but the meditative art of book browsing. I have a couple of really nice used books stores here in the Ridge. Just as summer was beginning, I purchased a nice little stack to put on my book shelf in hopes of reading through them this summer. It was money well spent.

One of them was a book by Lori Wick. Basically, it seemed like a sweet little book and I definitely judged the book by its cover, as I knew nothing about it but I knew it would look nice on the cottage bookshelf. My niece Marci caught sight of it and lo and behold it is a book she has been searching for! Isn't that cool? I really do believe that books find us.

One of my reads is a little novella based on the Bible character of Rebekah, the wife of Isaac, son of Abraham. I like historical fiction and I've always enjoyed the creative liberty that some take in reading between the lines of the Scriptures and conjecturing the story as it could have been played out. (God only knows). Rebekah has been 'speaking' to me in all sorts of ways - through contrasts and comparisons. I thought I was one of the few who said yes to marriage and found herself married within ten days. Rebekah also said yes and she was married as quickly as the camel could carry her to Isaac. (contrast - Rebekah smelled of camel and I did not)

Yes, books are great to read and we do learn about ourselves and others, but someone has to have the nerve to WRITE them.

One of the genres I have enjoyed in this past year is the memoir. The ones I've liked the most are the ones in which the author takes an authentic stance and speaks out what I would only dare to think.

We are told not to speak highly of ourselves and being a little twisted through human nature, we tend to speak the negative things about ourselves. Being timid to use the "I" word, too often our stories go untold.

There is a part of me bursting to tell my story and another part that chooses to remain silent. Starting this blog has been a big step for me. Little by little I am gaining my voice. It is easier to remain anonymous and yet I know that all of us want to be known. The twist is that we want to be known AND accepted and that is where the risk takes place.

They tell me that after fifty many inhibitions leave you and that is when you start wearing all that purple and doing all sorts of crazy things. Those of you who know me have probably thought I was already a little wacky many years prior to my mid fifties and that there wasn't a shy bone in my body. I don't know if shy is the suitable word here, but I have held back. I might call it discretion. I do want to maintain my dignity but I keep finding myself burning to speak out.

Tonight Bob and I shared story after story with some friends over dinner. We have been on a wonderful journey together for many years and I'm feeling like some of these things need to be written down for the next generation. Is this what happens when you become a grandmother? If so, bring it on.

Peace Out, Linda