Roots to a Tree of Books
Today I had a chat with a colleague who was about to go on vacation:
me: Wow, that’s almost a whole month? Doing something exciting?
ER: Thanks. I'm camping on kauai for a few days then sailing back. Could be exciting, but itll probably be pretty boring most of the time.
me: Hahaha. You’re complaining about a 1-month vacation sailing to an island.
ER: Complaining??? You asked if I was doing something exciting and I wouldn't classify chillin on boat and reading a million books as doing something "exciting". But hey thats just my opinion...
me: I guess so. I would be excited about that because I’m into books.
I remember watching Susan Cain's TEDTalk and beginning exploring, and later embracing, the idea of being an introvert. Susan opened her speech with a prop: a big bag full of books. She said that was what she brought with her on her first summer camp, and how she didn't expect that she wouldn't touch any of her books during the camp because the schedule was packed full of group activities. She talked about books as her source of adventure, and how it was even a family activity. I didn't think much then, on the book part, but I took away plenty. I'm thinking about the book part now.
Last year I began what I now consider my mindfulness journey, and set my first "real" new year's resolution. Part of it was to get more involved with doing what I enjoy doing, that speaks to who I am (which includes rediscovering who I am). Because after completing a self-assessment activity found in Sir Ken Robinson's Finding Your Element, I realized in my very limited free-time (and I have since "created" more of it), I often did things I didn't care about rather than things I enjoyed. I binge-watched crappy TV shows, mindlessly surfed the internet, which never really made me feel any good, if not worse. I was indulging myself in mindlessness because I was perhaps too weary to even be awake. The cycle got pretty vicious because after a while I'd feel like nothing I do had purpose at all.
Brene Brown calls it an addiction to take the edge off. And she combats it with practicing mindfulness, and setting clear intentions:
I like that. It doesn't mean I can't plan a weekend of House of Cards marathon. But when I do that, I do it because that's what I want to do, whether it's a reward for having performing an honest week of work or whatever. I'm not doing it because I'm procrastinating, trying to avoid doing something else. Now that's something I can get excited about.
Back to books. Back to my excitement on books. As I set my new years resolution, I thought I would read more books. I often complained how I kept buying books just to have them sit on my bookshelf and collect dust. I moved a few times within the last few years, and some of the books I actually donated before I've ever read them because I couldn't carry them all. I think the perfectionist in me always imagined spending hours in my reading chair or with a drink on my balcony digesting them books. I'm not a fast reader; if I didn't have enough time to get very far I rather not start something otherwise I would find myself going back pages. Well, I changed that. Now I have a rotation of 3 books in my car all the time, some on my bed stand, some in my bathroom, some even on my phone. I read whenever I can and I move forward. I try not to let perfect be the enemy of good. As a result, I was pretty happy with the completed book list I made at the end of the year.
This year is half way over - can you believe it? - and I've finished 4 books (I think I'll be able to add 2 more to the list soon). They're not great, big books, but books nonetheless. Going back to school and working full time and all, I think that's pretty good. (It's not a competition, okay?) Besides, I also realize I am always reading: newspaper laid out on the table in the break room at work, articles online, and when I'm not reading I am listening and watching. I have to consider those when I start to discount the effort I'm making. It's not meant to be an otherwise-I'm-not-good-enough thing to begin with, but sometimes I get too eager, and forget to feel good about it. Sometimes all the reading and media gets overwhelming and I take a break from it all and just sit in quietness. Or I doodle. Or I do something else artistic or creative. Or watch a movie that has been, too, sitting on my dusty Netflix shelf. Whatever I do, I'm more aware of it, and I enjoy it more. Not trying to keep busy. Just trying to be myself and feel grateful that I can afford these choices.
Last night before bed, I looked on one of my bookshelves (that was organized by colors of the rainbow) to pick out a book that might be a different genre to add to my current rotation. I'm feeling... something more... lighthearted. I picked up books, read the back cover, flipped through some pages. It had the same excitement as being in a bookstore, shopping for my next adventure. The possibility seemed endless. Then I realized: these books were going to get read! Their destinies were about to be fulfilled! That felt pretty good.
There were a couple of Chinese books in there that people have given me. One of them was some high-school level, school-days romance type novel that I felt I've grown way past. But I picked it up and gave it the quick examine. Before I knew it, I was laying in bed going through chapters. It's pretty juvenile, but kind of fun, too. What's more was all of a sudden, I was reminded of my time in high school, enjoying long bus rides as I read my high-school level, school-days romances and comic books. Sometimes a trip down memory lane is just that. But sometimes, such a trip serves as a calling to return to your roots that are deeply planted in your sacred ground, to embrace that inner child, to feel how light things can be with simple pleasures that are congruent with your values, yet yield such satisfaction. I felt like I was 15 again.
For my recent birthday, my boyfriend found the perfect cabin in the woods. Completely secluded, I took long baths in a claw tub looking out big windows at tall trees and pretty flowers. The only time I mingled with any sort of electronics was when I was putting together my perfect Billie Holiday bath time playlist. It was quiet and calming, just what I wanted. I told a friend from high school after, and said: little did I know this is who I would become. She said she was amazed at her own development, too. She thought she was going to be out and surrounded by friends all the time, but now she's a homebody who enjoys a glass of wine and her dog. After some thought, I realized I didn't become this, I came back to this. I got lost in the midst of late teens and twenties trying to find my way in the world. Looking back is like having an out-of-body experience. I'm surprised that I'm even having this realization now. It's a long time coming, yet it's also something I feel you must be pretty fortunate to figure out.
I wasn't one to bring books to summer camps. I didn't go to summer camps. But I know now when I go on vacation, I'll be packing books. The act of reading helps bring me back to my sacred ground, and I kinda like it there.
me: Wow, that’s almost a whole month? Doing something exciting?
ER: Thanks. I'm camping on kauai for a few days then sailing back. Could be exciting, but itll probably be pretty boring most of the time.
me: Hahaha. You’re complaining about a 1-month vacation sailing to an island.
ER: Complaining??? You asked if I was doing something exciting and I wouldn't classify chillin on boat and reading a million books as doing something "exciting". But hey thats just my opinion...
me: I guess so. I would be excited about that because I’m into books.
I remember watching Susan Cain's TEDTalk and beginning exploring, and later embracing, the idea of being an introvert. Susan opened her speech with a prop: a big bag full of books. She said that was what she brought with her on her first summer camp, and how she didn't expect that she wouldn't touch any of her books during the camp because the schedule was packed full of group activities. She talked about books as her source of adventure, and how it was even a family activity. I didn't think much then, on the book part, but I took away plenty. I'm thinking about the book part now.
Last year I began what I now consider my mindfulness journey, and set my first "real" new year's resolution. Part of it was to get more involved with doing what I enjoy doing, that speaks to who I am (which includes rediscovering who I am). Because after completing a self-assessment activity found in Sir Ken Robinson's Finding Your Element, I realized in my very limited free-time (and I have since "created" more of it), I often did things I didn't care about rather than things I enjoyed. I binge-watched crappy TV shows, mindlessly surfed the internet, which never really made me feel any good, if not worse. I was indulging myself in mindlessness because I was perhaps too weary to even be awake. The cycle got pretty vicious because after a while I'd feel like nothing I do had purpose at all.
Brene Brown calls it an addiction to take the edge off. And she combats it with practicing mindfulness, and setting clear intentions:
 |
| Excerpt from her book The Gift of Imperfection |
I like that. It doesn't mean I can't plan a weekend of House of Cards marathon. But when I do that, I do it because that's what I want to do, whether it's a reward for having performing an honest week of work or whatever. I'm not doing it because I'm procrastinating, trying to avoid doing something else. Now that's something I can get excited about.
Back to books. Back to my excitement on books. As I set my new years resolution, I thought I would read more books. I often complained how I kept buying books just to have them sit on my bookshelf and collect dust. I moved a few times within the last few years, and some of the books I actually donated before I've ever read them because I couldn't carry them all. I think the perfectionist in me always imagined spending hours in my reading chair or with a drink on my balcony digesting them books. I'm not a fast reader; if I didn't have enough time to get very far I rather not start something otherwise I would find myself going back pages. Well, I changed that. Now I have a rotation of 3 books in my car all the time, some on my bed stand, some in my bathroom, some even on my phone. I read whenever I can and I move forward. I try not to let perfect be the enemy of good. As a result, I was pretty happy with the completed book list I made at the end of the year.
This year is half way over - can you believe it? - and I've finished 4 books (I think I'll be able to add 2 more to the list soon). They're not great, big books, but books nonetheless. Going back to school and working full time and all, I think that's pretty good. (It's not a competition, okay?) Besides, I also realize I am always reading: newspaper laid out on the table in the break room at work, articles online, and when I'm not reading I am listening and watching. I have to consider those when I start to discount the effort I'm making. It's not meant to be an otherwise-I'm-not-good-enough thing to begin with, but sometimes I get too eager, and forget to feel good about it. Sometimes all the reading and media gets overwhelming and I take a break from it all and just sit in quietness. Or I doodle. Or I do something else artistic or creative. Or watch a movie that has been, too, sitting on my dusty Netflix shelf. Whatever I do, I'm more aware of it, and I enjoy it more. Not trying to keep busy. Just trying to be myself and feel grateful that I can afford these choices.
Last night before bed, I looked on one of my bookshelves (that was organized by colors of the rainbow) to pick out a book that might be a different genre to add to my current rotation. I'm feeling... something more... lighthearted. I picked up books, read the back cover, flipped through some pages. It had the same excitement as being in a bookstore, shopping for my next adventure. The possibility seemed endless. Then I realized: these books were going to get read! Their destinies were about to be fulfilled! That felt pretty good.
There were a couple of Chinese books in there that people have given me. One of them was some high-school level, school-days romance type novel that I felt I've grown way past. But I picked it up and gave it the quick examine. Before I knew it, I was laying in bed going through chapters. It's pretty juvenile, but kind of fun, too. What's more was all of a sudden, I was reminded of my time in high school, enjoying long bus rides as I read my high-school level, school-days romances and comic books. Sometimes a trip down memory lane is just that. But sometimes, such a trip serves as a calling to return to your roots that are deeply planted in your sacred ground, to embrace that inner child, to feel how light things can be with simple pleasures that are congruent with your values, yet yield such satisfaction. I felt like I was 15 again.
For my recent birthday, my boyfriend found the perfect cabin in the woods. Completely secluded, I took long baths in a claw tub looking out big windows at tall trees and pretty flowers. The only time I mingled with any sort of electronics was when I was putting together my perfect Billie Holiday bath time playlist. It was quiet and calming, just what I wanted. I told a friend from high school after, and said: little did I know this is who I would become. She said she was amazed at her own development, too. She thought she was going to be out and surrounded by friends all the time, but now she's a homebody who enjoys a glass of wine and her dog. After some thought, I realized I didn't become this, I came back to this. I got lost in the midst of late teens and twenties trying to find my way in the world. Looking back is like having an out-of-body experience. I'm surprised that I'm even having this realization now. It's a long time coming, yet it's also something I feel you must be pretty fortunate to figure out.
I wasn't one to bring books to summer camps. I didn't go to summer camps. But I know now when I go on vacation, I'll be packing books. The act of reading helps bring me back to my sacred ground, and I kinda like it there.
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