We live in an age when skim reading seems to be the new normal, and so we’re in constant danger of skimming ourselves to death. Certainly some books ought to be skimmed. . . But if we aren’t careful, our ability to do deep reading will become a constant and losing struggle.
Karen Swallow Prior
The door in the bedroom is no longer open to the night air, instead, the hum of the furnace comforts. I sip soy milky frothy coffee from the comfort of my bed while the Yorkie snores and the husband heads off to early morning men’s meeting. I order two books because we are heading into reading season (coming out of reading season . . . in reality, every season is reading season).
The noise of the world is too loud for me just now. I’ve sensed it for some time. Now I recognize physical manifestations for what they are; the knowledge a gift, as I grant myself permission to enter a season of intentional hibernation from the din.
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I pop over to my private journal and work through some thoughts. Set some intentions. And return.
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Today we are taking a date day. It will involve pulling out the now-barren tomato trees in the garden and a drive to enjoy autumn’s finest showing. And more. Or perhaps less. But just enough.
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I’m looking forward to Canada Post delivering Karen Swallow Prior’s Booked: Literature in the Soul of Me and On Reading Well: Finding the Good Life Through Great Books.
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Would you tell me, in the comments, what you’re thinking about in this start of the dark season? What’s holding your attention? What you’re letting go of?