Ohmigosh, Ohmigosh, Ohmigosh!
Here's one great thing I've discovered (or more accurately "remembered") about myself:
I love to read books!
I mean, I've always been a reader. I used to devour books.
Science fiction is my favorite ("space-shit" as my wife would call it). Asimov, Clark, Dick (shut up, that's his last name), Card, King, Scalzi, to name a few. I also like some authors of political intrigue and spy stuff. Tom Clancy was one of my earliest favorites. I remember reading "Red Storm Rising" and just being memorized by the storytelling. Flynn, Brown, Thor, Suarez to name a few others.
Oh, and Hamilton. Peter F. freakin-Hamilton. He's amazing. Sweeping space opera and epic, grand tales at their finest. I mean, big, long books. 600-700 page paperbacks. When I was a single father, I read his entire six-paperback series called The Reality Dysfunction (one my daughters is reading that series now!). Serious space drama. I remember laying awake late at night after the kids had gone to bed, reading sometimes until early morning, even when I had to be at work early the next day!
I searched the used book store, and found just about everything else Hamilton had written at the time and read those, too. Jeez, those were good times.
In the past few years, though, my reading has centered on theological, spiritual, or philosophical topics. All of which are important, and thoroughly enriching. I'm glad I read all the books I've read. But, they are not what I'd call "fun" reads.
Wright, Zahnd, Boyd, Yoder, Bell, Chan, Young, to name a few of the spiritual genre authors I've read. They are all good, edifying, galvanizing books, but not..... hmmm.... conducive to relaxation.
Entering retirement, I've been reminded of the wondrous relaxation provided by recreational reading.
Peter Hamilton is by far my absolute favorite sci-fi author. I tore through his latest two huge books, "Salvation" and "Salvation Lost", and now have to wait about eight months for the third and final entry "Saints of Salvation". Eight months!
I swear I could just cry! Wait.... I could cry? Of course I could cry!
Which kinda brings me to my point, with regards to what this journal is about.
Why did I stop reading for fun?
I mean, sure, there was the occasional recreational read, but it was always stop and start, dribs and drabs, reading a few pages when I could. I became notorious for starting a book, and not finishing it.
But I had the time to read, if I'd wanted to. Seriously.
If I added up all the hours I spent watching TV during my career.....
....I'm treading carefully here, because I really like TV....
....but if I added up all those TV hours, and took, say, twenty percent of those hours and devoted them to recreational reading, I could have probably read the complete works of Shakespeare, along with Homer's Odyssey, a couple of times.
Not that I'm going to read Shakespeare or Homer. But I'm just sayin'.
If I did read Shakespeare or Homer, I'd probably have a larger vocabulary. But, that's what the internet is for.
Oh, lord, don't even get me started on counting the hours spent on Facebook. Or Twitter. I'd be so embarrassed.
Anyway, we all know (or at least those of us that grew up with ABC's Schoolhouse Rock) that reading is fundamental. I should never have let myself de-prioritize it in my life.
And, as a cautionary tale, neither should you.
I honestly can't put my finger on a specific reason why I stopped something that I loved so much.
Isn't that weird? I think we all can think of something we used to enjoy, but somehow it just kinda foundered along the wayside of life.
I think had I spent a little more time in recreational reading, in opening up the "theater of the mind" and letting myself enjoy the flights of fantasy that reading can bring, I might have dealt with some of the stress of life better.
I know I feel better when I do something I really enjoy. Closing the last page on a book and sighing that contented sigh of a completed story is a joy I never get tired of.
Turning off the Kindle after finishing a book is just not the same, but if that's how you roll, then you just roll on with your bad-self. I won't judge.
Who am I kidding. Yes I will.
Bottom line: don't forget the things that bring you joy. For me, today, I'm thinking about books. Some of you know I'm also thinking about singing, and about fishing.
I go fishing, not catching. Just so ya know.
For some of you its crafty stuff. Scrap-bookings. Sewing. Bike riding. Photography. Painting. Drawing. Dance. Wood working. Hunting. Sports. Church activities. The list goes on.
Whatever it is, don't neglect it.
I know, we get busy with kids, family obligations, work, school, illnesses, and so on. I know I did.
Don't neglect some small time for recreation. Don't neglect the things that you enjoy. Don't make plans to get back to that thing you enjoy later, because later always gets pushed back, and often later never arrives.
I've discovered its not selfish to plan time for personal things that bring us joy. It's not greedy. We tell ourselves, or let others tell us, that it is selfish, but its not.
It necessary for healthy living.
The folks in the old days, with their quaint sayings and platitudes, sometimes got it right.
All work and no play, makes anyone a dull boy or girl.
So, go play a little, before you forget how to play, or what you liked to play with.
I'm going to watch some YouTube videos and see if I can get some tips on fishing.
Or maybe I should read a book on catching?
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