Friday, 22 May 2015

I have always been a reader.  There were long parts of life where my definition of myself was reader.  I know that when I moved, I had almost as many boxes of books as I do yarn.

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.

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