My Books For Living

I just finished Will Schwalbe's Books for Living. I've read a handful of his choices. I have a few on my must read stacks and I'll add a few more. It got me to thinking about my own list. What I came up with is not comprehensive or chronological. It's my quick response without overthinking or editing. I know for a fact that I'm leaving a few gems off because they failed to come to my mind at this time. These are books that came to me at the right time because I remember reading them and feeling something profound, and thus, memorable.

The Tao of Pooh was left in my apartment in college. I don't who left it or why. I read it and the messages of living simply and slowing down resonated with my overly-scheduled, highly distracted self. Things didn't change for me overnight, but seeds were planted to be in the moment more.

I read Romeo and Juliet for the first time in high school when I was in a tumultuous relationship with someone who made me feel all the highs and lows of being in love in one day and sometimes in the same hour. Being young and naive, I saw that as romantic. We went on in this way for years. Then I read this play again in college when I was in another relationship that was going off track, and I started to see this dynamic as destructive and unhealthy. That only lasted another six months. I once was a star-crossed lover. I have had my own Romeos.

I read Tuesdays with Morrie when it came out in 2002. I had a toddler so I identified not just as a mother, but also a teacher. It's one of the important things parents do. This book is more about living than dying. The legacy Morrie left by living in the moment made so much sense to me. I spent my time alternately trying to stop time to soak in this little person...this life, and fast forwarding it to see who he or we would become. I started to once again make the shift to living in the moment. 

Gratitude came to me a couple years ago. Since losing my mom, death and dying are always on my mind and heart. This book of essays written during what he calls the "Sabbath" of his life, left me with incredible peace. It reminds me to do good and to be good.

Let's just continue on this path. I read How it Feels When a Parent Dies when I was a tween. It was on the book shelf of the family I babysat for. I was intrigued because all parents were alive and well. I started reading the stories of these children of all ages and I couldn't stop. Then I couldn't stop crying. My parents were alive and healthy, but this book caused me to imagine a time when that would not be the case. I still pick this book up from time to time, and of course, now I know exactly how it feels.

The Prophet was the rage in college, yet I still turn to it for comfort in life. No matter where I'm at, this tome offers timeless comfort.

"No man is an island,” said John Donne. I feel we are all islands – in a common sea."

I read Gift from the Sea in my 20s before kids and I didn't connect with it. Then I read it in my 40s after kids, and I think I copied a quote from every other page into my common book. It's a treasure that I return to often filled with simple wisdom and not just for women. It taught me that their is a wisdom that comes with age.

"My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call."

The Prince of Tides was one of the first novels I read that struck me as beautiful and terrible at the same time. Conroy is an eloquent writer, but his stories are often brutal. This book ignited my passion for fiction that is beautifully written, but sometimes hard to read.

all Mary Oliver In every poem or essay, there is at least one line that strikes and then stays with me. The common themes that simplicity is sublime in poetry and in life, and that the natural world is our supreme teacher always speak to me.

Joy Luck Club and really all of Tan's novels resonate with me because they are all about family and usually mother/daughter relationships, which always intrigue me. Relationships, especially female relationships, are complicated and beautiful. I was introduced to Tan in a contemporary literature class I took in college. It was an eye opening semester and a favorite class. One in which I also was turned onto Louise Erdrich, Zora Neale Hurston and Toni Morrison. The semester changed me not just as a reader, but also as a person.

The Year of Magical Thinking is a book about mourning. I read it shortly after my mom passed, and although Didion writes about the year following the death of her husband, it put poignant words to so many of my feelings. 

God doesn’t need to punish us. He just grants us a long enough life to punish ourselves.”

The Poisonwood Bible is one of my favorite novels. It's a family tale with a historical context that is set in one of my favorites places to read about: Africa. It's one of a few novels I've read more than once and wish that I had written. It inspires me that I still have a novel in me. Perseverance.

I read Wild a couple years after my mom passed, and it was so cathartic for me because although my story is very different from Strayed's, there is also something so universal in grief. So this sad story actually lifted me up because I felt less alone. Grief diminishes us and then gives is the chance to emerge from the pain and sadness stronger.

I finished The Bright Hour this summer. Now my grief is 9 years old, and this book helped me understand how the loss I suffered has changed me as a person. I realized that initially grief is bone crushing. Now it's just soul sucking. It never goes away...it just changes so live every moment until you've none left. It also makes me more compassionate and empathetic and forgiving.

If You're Afraid of the Dark Remember the Night Rainbow is a favorite I read to my children when they were little and we spent lots of time admiring the whimsical illustrations. We all need a little magic in our lives and a reminder to persevere.

Eat Pray Love taught me that we're never too old to change, learn, grow. It also informed that we deserve happiness a lesson I'm still learning today.

Jane Eyre because who doesn't love a great orphan tale, a Beauty and the Beast love story, and the Bronte sisters? It one of the classics I actually enjoyed reading.

Wide Sargasso Sea intensified the impact Jane Eyre had on me because essentially it's the prequel. I read both works in college for a feminist lit. class that lit a fire in me where women's issues are concerned. 

On the Road was one of the first novels I read because everyone was walking around talking about how brilliant it was, and I hated it. Catcher in the Rye was another. My unpopular point of view made for some interesting and intense conversation and to this day reminds me that it's ok to disagree.

"Discernment. Such a beautiful word….I thought about what it meant to choose wisely – not just once or twice, but in every waking moment."

Devotion is a memoir about spirituality and grief that touched me deeply. Dani Shapiro really leaves her soul on the page, and I pick this up when I need to remember that I have a body, but I am a soul as C.S. Lewis once said. We are but a small, humble part of something divine.

"Happiness is simple. Everything we do to find it is complicated."

Hand Wash Cold by Karen Maezan Miller is a memoir that illuminates simple Buddhist principals within the context of our daily lives and chores. It made me see the power in being present in every little thing I do another lesson I learn and relearn often in my life.

Crossing to Safety is a tale of loyal friendship, committed marriage, a mostly happy family that is just real. There's no big betrayal or extensive drama. Stegner has written a beautiful story with strong, interesting characters that illuminate a life worth living and isn't that what we all want at the end of the day...days. 

Beloved was one of the most difficult, disorienting novels I've ever read and also one of the most beautiful and rewarding. It taught me that hard work pays off and confusion gives way to clarity. It taught me not to give up.

I'm not a big fan of romantic fiction otherwise known as the sappy love story, but The Bridges of Madison County left me feeling raw, and desperate for that kind of all encompassing love. I can still pick this book up today and feel all the feels. It's a great one when I just need a cathartic cry.

Any Ina Garten because she's the best. I read cookbooks. It's a thing. I have all of Ina's and I go to them often for relatively easy, delicious food.

Every Katrina Kenison because she always speaks to my years are minutes and be.here.now proclivities. 

Tuesdays Unwrapped: Friends

A true friend is:

• Someone who calls often and can tell by the way you answer the phone whether or not you can talk at that precise time
• Not slighted if you cannot chat, and that doesn't stop her from calling later when you forget to return the call
• Always available to listen and to really hear you
• Known to say often, "How can I help you?" or "I'm sorry this is happening" or "What can I do?"
• Also likely to just do whatever she thinks you need before you have to ask like take the day off work to take care of your children who are off of school again or arrive the night before a party to help you set-up or arrive with a vase of orchids the bluest shade of blue to cheer you up
• Someone who is the sister you never had and another doting aunt to your children who she loves like her own
• The person that you trust with your wildest dreams and scariest fears
• Good at making you feel understood
• There for you always to celebrate happy milestones, to mourn in times of sadness and to shore you up when the load is too heavy
• The kind of person that makes you want to be a better friend...a better person
• Someone you can laugh until you cry with or cry until you laugh with
• Honest, kind, and fair
• Someone you always have fun with whether you are on the patio watching the kids play in the yard, on the beach with your books or belting out Billy Joel in a piano bar
• The giver of thoughtful advice
• Not a score keeper
• The kind of person who loves you flaws and all
• Someone you can be yourself around always
• The guest who stops for a glass of wine after work and ends up spending the night
• The frister who takes the afternoon off to take a hike with you on your Mom's heaven day beacause she doesn't want you to be alone

The truth is a good true friend is all of these things and so much more. I was completely at a loss for words this morning because what is there to say really...two years ago today I said goodbye to my first best friend, my Mom. She always said that good friends were hard to come by, but that you didn't need many. She was proud of the fact that she could count her good friends...her fristers...on one hand. Although she knew what seemed like everyone and everyone knew her, she had a very special place for a lucky close few. This morning I checked in at chatting at the sky as I usually do on Tuesdays and was not surprised to see that today's topic is the gift of friendship. I'll take that as a sign, thank you. Jess will be here soon, and I am beyond thankful to her for spending the afternoon with me and also for my Mom who taught me what treasures good friends are. Today I'm at Tuesdays Unwrapped and with my frister, Jess.

A Walk in the Woods, Through the Fields, Along the Shore

The trees are still green -
though not for long.

The south westerly wind whips warm today,
but random wisps remind me of last night's chill.
When it blows along the wooded trails, the aging oaks let go of some of their acorns.
Dappled sunshine sneaks onto the forest floor through the thick foliage overhead in whimsical patterns: nature's beautiful stained glass.

A sea of sun-kissed golden rods dance with the mosaic winged monarchs out in mass.
There are so many, I lose count -
Soon they'll be travelling south for the winter.
Dragon flies as big as hummingbirds swoop through the air feasting in mid frenzied flight.
The wind rushes through the prairie grass creating rhythmic music-
When I close my eyes, I swear I'm seaside listening to the tide roll in and back out over and over again.

I feel the ebb of summer flowing towards fall with each one of my heightened senses.

The mossy backed turtles soak up the end of season rays as they drift deliriously on rotting logs.
My every step around Boardwalk Pond is met with a meep, splash -
The toads don't trust my stride so they sound off and then sink beneath the sooty silt.
I scan the murky, pollen-filled water only to find my gaze met by hundreds of little, bulging eyes.
It wasn't that long ago that they were tadpoles.

A lone snake slithers by disappearing into the thick brush leaving me startled.
Three plump turkeys cross the path in front of me and I think how lucky they are to live protected on this preserve.
The Grassland Loop is a labyrinth and I am the Minotaur.
I'm not the only creature exploring the maze:
I spy a doe eyed deer bedding down on the edge of Bird Blind Pond.
Her molten, milk chocolate eyes reveal her surprise at being spotted-
But she's not fearful enough to flee.
This is, after all, her domain.

As I circle the Woodland Loop, I'm aware of the mounting decomposition.
The air is tinged with a rancid over ripeness -
It wreaks of damp mold and dusky decay.
The path is littered with lost downy feathers and thick rolling moss.
Hollowed out tree stumps become critter shelters -
It is time for nesting.
The wind howls and the fragile overhead branches creek and moan despite their fortitude.
A red tailed hawk launches from the canopy above in search of lunch -
Soon her catches will be harder to come by.

Along the lake, gulls squawk in alarm as I approach them on the beach devouring what's left of a repulsive fish carcass.
The wind off the water makes the hairs on my arms stand on end even as the mid-day sun warms my face.
I breathe in deeply and exhale slowly -
So thankful for this glorious late summer day, ever thankful to be a vibrant part of this miraculous circle of life.

(Also thankful to be participating in Tuesday's Unwrapped today.)

Time on Tuesday

Miss Bit and I were lounging in my bed this morning gearing up to start our day. T. Bone was already up, and both of them were more eager than I to make a precise plan. I confess that I was happy to putter the day away around the house getting ready for company coming for the weekend and then take the long walk alone over the river and up and down the hills, but I knew my choices wouldn't get the majority vote. The phone rang and in a matter of moments my girl had a much coveted invitation for the afternoon. Soon after my boy got an offer he too couldn't refuse. I am thankful for this time to myself to recharge and refresh so that when we reconvene this evening, I will fully receive the gift of togetherness, and rejoice in the frenzy of our busy family again.

Tuesdays Unwrapped - The Gift of Words

I reluctantly threw The Shack in my purse last night before heading out to Miss Bit's ball game. I've been slowly trying to make my way through Young's novel since February. I just finished The Help and haven't started a new book yet so it just made sense. Having a book to retreat into keeps me entertained during the uneventful game and it allows me to escape from the idle small talk and gossip when I want or need to. If anything, I know my limits.

Not more than a page in, Mack- the protagonist- witnesses his dead daughter playing with her living brothers and sisters. This glimpse fills him with immediate relief and immeasurable joy...she is okay. He wants to go to her, but cannot. And then he wonders if this vision is even real, and if his other children are really communing with their deceased sister. The answer brought tears to my eyes and warmed me right there in the cold bleachers.

They are, but they aren't. Only Missy is truly here. The others are dreaming, and each will have a vague memory of this - some in greater detail than others, but none fully or completely.

Reading these words, I felt such warm validation of some of the recent dreams I've had that seemed like much more than dreams. Dreams so real and clear. Dreams so matter of fact and poignant. Dreams so heart breaking and life changing. The smallest, simplest gift in any day can remind me that my Mom is with me every day, and that is the most meaningful and monumental gift that's ever been bestowed upon me.

(Today I'm taking part in Tuesdays Unwrapped.)

And We're Off! (Tuesdays Unwrapped)

Well, not really. It's our official first day of summer vacation and I'm sitting here in relative silence while T. Bone and Miss Bit snooze on. The only sounds in the air are my fingers tap, tap, tapping the keyboard, the blue jay bully squawking somewhere in the yard, and the chippies chattering away from the safety of the wood pile. It's a cool, gray morning perfect for catching up on sleep or writing.

After T. Bone's baseball game on the BIG field last night, which I am happy to report did not get rained out and unhappy to report was lost, we let the kids stay up watching T.V. in our bed until quite late. I now confess that was my well designed plan to ensure that this Tuesday morning would commence in the same manner in which I am accustom: coffee, computer, quiet. The cloud cover...well, it's surely a bonus.

There is something about a skyful of clouds that simply speaks to my soul. The threat of rain keeps me inside where it's warm and dry, but it's more than just seeking shelter from the storm. It's an invitation to retreat to my interior, to prod, uncover, delve, and to sit in silence with the heaviness in my heart. I'm drawn in to listen...to really hear. It is in the calm before the storm that I can see clearly and feel intuitively the truths that sustain me. Yes, I am alive. Indeed, life is hard, but good. Without a doubt the sweet moments out number the bitter bites of this beautiful life. The rain will eventually come to clear the heavy air rife with thickness and thunder. The cleansing tears will fall and wash away the sharpness of my fear, regret, sorrow, and shame. Even before the sun once again shines, I will have renewed resolve to be alive...fully alive. And it's a good thing too because it is our first day of freedom, and I want to be present, plugged in and even joyful in every little moment.