Thursday, October 11, 2018 – Discombobulated, But Intentional

Reading well adds to our life—not in the way a tool from the hardware store adds to our life, for a tool does us no good once lost or broken, but in the way a friendship adds to our life, altering us forever.

Karen Swallow Prior, On Reading Well: Finding the Good Life through Great Books

The day begins discombobulated. Gerry wakes late and rushes to get to men’s meeting on time. I mess up making coffee and need a do-over before I can settle in with a first cup. And suddenly, ripples of busy disturb the surface of the early morning calm. It requires intention to get it back.

Gerry’s taking my car to get the winter tires put on today, and I’ve got an appointment in town. We’ve carved out time this afternoon for a date. Intention is needed there too.

We’ve taken to charting our respective weekly schedules on a whiteboard so we can be intentional about date time, I can carve out PID writing time, and our aging-and-sometimes-faulty minds can keep track of what the other is doing.

# # #

I read every day. My Bible, of course, but also articles on various topics, and something from whatever book(s) I’ve got on the go at any given time. Google is the gateway drug to reams of information about anything I want to know more about, taking me on rabbit trails and eating up precious tIme. And then there’s social media.

I’m coming to realize that online reading isn’t serving me well and is rewiring my brain—and rewiring it in a way I don’t like.

I returned to reading books this year—physical books as opposed to reading exclusively on my Kindle—and the library has once again become my dealer. That is not to say I no longer buy books—both physical and ebooks—but I am being more selective I’m what I dole my money out for. I’m making better use of library resources.

This small thing is a step back toward the slower, more intentional, life I prefer. It’s so easy to get off track without intention.

There is still the matter of the unintended brain training that has been subtly taking place over the years, but intention and time will tend to that.

# # #

I feel as if this post has become disjointed and discombobulated, much like the way this day began. I’m blaming the bad coffee.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.

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