It has been a long time since I read a book and could not put it down. Putting it down has been the hallmark of my reading style the last few years. To read, I had to be regimented, a little like practising scales for piano lessons. I had to make time and say, I will read now. When I was younger, I read because I did not know how not to. I had to read. If I wasn't reading, then I wasn't really there.
It started Wednesday afternoon. Then, yesterday was like that. I picked up a book that I have read a hundred times before and just slurped it in. The book was in my hand through the whole day and I couldn't not read it.
I have been a little worried about reading. It was such a different thing the last few years and I worried that I wasn't going to get it back. I thought that perhaps, I had changed and become a grazer of books, stopping here and there, but not really diving in head first becoming enmeshed not so much by the story, but by the experience of reading.
Yesterday, I became enmeshed with an old friend that I worried was long gone only it wasn't. It was right there waiting for me. That was such a huge relief, such a huge joy.