Hello, Readers! Happy Tuesday!
The other day I was with my family doing some shopping for Easter. We’d gone down the book aisle which at one time was my favorite aisle ever. I do have to admit that it’s been a few years since reading has been such a priority in my life.
That is baring the reading and re-reading of my own novels in preparation for releases. However, there are times that even that can be tedious for me to get through.
It’s something that has been quite bothersome for a long time to me. How could I who used to consume several books in a week go from that to maybe a few fiction books a year? Self-help books to analyze why I’ve been so depressed or how to be a happier person in general, yada ya. Those I consumed by the bucket loads.
None of it made any sense. So, I decided after we picked out some books for the grandbabies for their Easter gift that I was just going to purchase the first book that made me want it. I wasn’t going to analyze or second guess.
I grabbed a novel from an author I once loved to read and didn’t even question it. Especially after making sure it wasn’t part of a series or something. At that point, I tossed it into the basket. While I stood there for a few moments too long I stared at the other books.
There was a part of me that tried to get me to purchase a thriller or fantasy novel. After all, that is what I was supposed to be reading, right?
I stood there for a few moments and while I knew I could purchase the Clive Cussler novel in front of me and not be disappointed, it wasn’t what I wanted to read. In that moment, I silenced my brain and simply walked away, thrilled with my decision on the book I wanted to read.
It’s been a couple of days and I’ve nearly finished the book. I get such a sense of excitement to sit down and read once more. I’ve consumed it, enjoyed the way it sucks me into it every time I sit down.
I’m also reminded of why I wanted to be a writer, to begin with. There is a part of me, that wonders…has that been my struggle for so many years. A reason for my anxiety to be so out of control, because I haven’t been honest with myself about who I was?
I’ve tried so hard to hide away my interests and soft underside because it has been the source of much ridicule in the past. I altered what I read, how I acted and what I did to avoid such things.
That hit me hard, today. That knowledge of how much I’d changed in such a short amount of time. While I don’t think reconnected with some of these things will take away my anxiety, it sure won’t hurt to get back to the things that made me who I was and the things I enjoyed so much.
I’m going to be working on not being harsh with myself, casting no judgments on the things I like to read or write, even my hobbies. Life is way too freaking short to try to squish in anyone else’s mold of who I should be. Even when the one that is trying to force a mold on me is myself.
It’s time to reconnect to the person on the inside and get back to enjoying life.
Until next time, remember to L.O.L. (Live it, Own it, Love it) or it isn’t worth doing. No truer words have ever radiated in my mind as they have today.