Dare I take another day at home? Another day with the comfort of a new book, penning a few words in my Moleskin, tapping out a few more on my laptop? Dare I resist the pull to return to society for one more day?
I have things to do, and a timeline in which to do them, it chafes a bit In these early January days. I am pulled between impatience to get moving, and a desire to be still and lie fallow. Ah, but that is life.
There are things to let go of, others to go deeper into, still others to sit in silence with, observing. Finding the balance, deciding which to focus on at any given time, is sometimes a challenge.
I am reading a book about Christian history right now called Water From a Deep Well: Christian Spirituality from Early Martyrs to Modern Missionaries by Gerald Sittser. There is much wisdom in listening to the past; we sometimes forget that, in our contemporary, fast-paced world. I sit under a blanket in my wing chair, with a Yorkie on my lap and a cup of rooibos tea at close hand, and read slowly, with a highlighter.
My return to analog reading means I can’t call up any of the words I highlighted yesterday, as I sit here in the dark in my bed sipping soy milky frothy coffee, but so be it. I will transcribe some of them into a new notebook I purchased on the last day of last year, and they will become friends.
Digital life has affected my brain, I’m convinced of it. I’m equally convinced that I can repair some of the disconnections with the balm of paper books and hand writing. I am not putting away my Kindle, and no longer following wise teachers online. I’m not going to stop wrangling words in this space every morning. I’m simply switching things up and, where it makes sense and with intention, replacing digital with analog.
Analog forces a slowing down, a more mindful experience. It connects with a distinct part of our brain. it instructs us differently. It might make us kinder, and more willing to listen. Who knows?