enough time.

I meant to write yesterday so that I could claim one more post for January, but time and distraction got the best of me. Instead, I ate two bowls of Fruity Pebbles (truth), watched some TV, and then curled up with my notebook and Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones.

I love some books fiercely, and Writing Down the Bones is one of them. I know I’ve gone on and on about it, so I won’t do it again. I have read this book so many times, but it never wears out on me. There is some magic in it. I always know when it’s time to read it again. And somehow I always find exactly what I need to hear. For example:

"...don't tell us about anger (or any of those big words like honesty, truth, hate, love, sorrow, life, justice, etc.); show us what made you angry. We will read it and feel angry. Don't tell readers what to feel. Show them the situation, and that feeling will awaken in them."

When I was 17, I picked up a book at a used bookstore: A New Lifetime Reading Plan. Maybe you’ve read it? I don’t have it anymore; I must have lost track of it on one of my moves. There wasn’t anything too magical about it anyway, but I still remember the moment when I sat down on my bed holding that book and felt this rush: there was so much to read, so much wonder and creativity in the world, and there wasn’t any time to waste. I had always loved reading, but that’s the first time I remember feeling all-consuming awe. I suddenly felt a responsibility to honor this incredible tradition: the written word. That’s the first time I felt that my life couldn’t possibly be long enough to read everything I wanted to.

Even still, though there will never be enough time, I will never give up the pleasure of re-reading certain books. It is the comfort of warmth on a cold night, the joy of food when you’re hungry, the safety in unconditional love. It fills a very deep need.

There’s a line in the 1994 film version of Little Women. I’m actually not sure if the line is even in the book, but nonetheless, when Jo is with the Professor, after she moves to New York, she picks up one of his books and says,

“Some books are so familiar, reading them is like being home again.”

That is how I feel when I read The Hobbit and The Maytrees and Writing Down the Bones. Those books feel like home to me, whatever that might mean.

With that, let me leave you with Natalie Goldberg’s words, the ones I very much needed to hear this time around.

“We have a responsibility to treat ourselves kindly; then we will treat the world in the same way.”

Do something wonderful this weekend. Be kind to yourself. Love the world and find joy in it.