At some point in your adult life you may have been witness to the depression era mentality in your grandparents. In my family this manifested itself in my grandmother bring every uneaten roll and pat of butter back from the dining hall at their retirement home and putting it in the freezer just in case. After my grandfather died we discovered a shoebox of pencil stubs- not even stubs as there was NO pencil left just the ferrule (had to look that up!- the metal part that holds the eraser) and the smallest speck of eraser. There was also a filing cabinet drawer filled with nothing but the cardboard backs to notepaper pads. None of these things had any use but to my grandparents they were a mental buffer against impending doom. A way of feeling safe.
We in America are fortunate that the majority of us have not grown up with that kind of fear. In fact, some younger generations have grown up with so much that possessions have no meaning and entitlement is the prevailing emotion (but that’s a whole other post). Still, for most of us there are situations that can agitate our primal mind, create fear, and evoke the feeling of want or lack. For most there is an anecdote. For some it’s dangerous- booze, pills, other drugs. For most it’s more innocuous. And because it’s all about me I’ll share mine.
And maye a hot guy to bring you cool fruity drinks so you didn't have to stop reading.
Books. It doesn’t matter how many I have in the house or the likelihood that I will ever have a chance to read them. I am deeply comforted by seeing them around. I feel safe. At some point, because I get them at the library, I do have to either read them or let them go but then I can wander the aisles and find thousands more I might like.
In fact, I’m at the library right now because today is one of those days. To be blunt I’m having a bit of a freak-out and there is only so much my husband can handle. Plus I was pretty sure I was going to have to slap someone before the afternoon is over and it would be less stressful for my marriage if I chose a stranger (people here are so nice I could explain and they’d say it was all right).
Back to the books. On my nightstand right now I have: Buddha by Deepak Chopra, If You Were Here by Jen Lancaster, An Object of Beauty by Steve Martin, and Anecdotes of Destiny and Ehrengard by Isak Dinesen. PLENTY to get me through a week of night-time reading but I still went to the shelves and grabbed two more books I’d heard about and wanted to read: Rich Boy by Sharon Pomerantz and Slammerkin by Emma Donoghue.
And that’s just fiction. I could go on about what’s on the to-be-read shelf (yes, I know exactly how that makes me sound) in my reading room (again, I know... I’m a freak) where I keep daytime (I’m just digging myself in deeper and deeper, aren’t I? If we were kids you’d have to beat me up) non-fiction books. Instead, I’ll leave you with some soothing (for me), joyful images. Maybe I’ll even forego the slapping, take a deep breath, read something, and go home.
What soothes you? What is your go-to stress reliever? Your binky?
Nirvana, mecca, Valhalla. I don't even know where this library is but I could live there.
LOVE this but would like less art more books. Maybe more windows too.
A library in the midst of nature- fabulous. But what's with the desk and chair? All you need is a hammock or couch.