Simple Pleasures
It just occurred to me how complexified I've let my life become. A long time ago, a few days before I got my wisdom teeth out, I got a new bed and bedding. Sweet mercy, I thought I was in heaven. Even before I got my wisdom teeth out I spent hours and hours just laying in my bed, folded up in a soft flannel comforter on flannel sheets, my head resting on flannel clad down pillows (I love flannel bedding), reading. I read the complete Sherlock Holmes collection--about 1500 pages, I believe--in two days. I'm a fast reader, but that's a lot of reading even for me.
I still read constantly, but I read a hundred thousand words of political commentary and blogs instead of fiction daily. When am I really at peace? Never, I think. I'd like to recapture that simple pleasure of falling in love with another world again. I need to stop being so serious, so worried about everything. I always tell others not to worry about things they can't change and just go with the flow, so why shouldn't I?
The first adult-length fiction I can remember reading was the novel Mossflower, by Brian Jacques. I was very young, and it was before we got Corky, so I'm going to guess I was five. I remember because we had another dog named Buster, a beagle, who was hit by a car when he was one and a half. I had this stuffed animal dog that I loved while he was still alive, but if I ever wanted to cry or to remember him I'd just take the stuffed dog out and all I had to do is hug it to start the tears a-flowing. That dog spent a lot of time under the bed... I'm getting all teary just thinking about it. But I digress.
I fell in love with the world of Mossflower. Martin became my hero, and I followed his steps with relish and wonder. After I finished Mossflower, I hurried to grab the 'next' book in the series, Redwall (which is actually the first, but chronologically Mossflower comes before it and to this day I read Mossflower first). I was
heartbroken when I saw that Martin wasn't in it. Makes sense when you understand the format of the Redwall series, but what did I know? I was only five.
Some things can still get me very choked up and my eyes so wet I can't see the screen, like some of Bill Whittle's essays (
Courage is the one in particular I'm thinking of) or
this piece by John Ross. There are others, but those stand out in my mind. Read them both.
I'm going to try to simplify my life. I'm going to stop having expectations and being disappointed when shit doesn't work out. I'm going to believe in something. I'm going to spend less time online and more reading and writing fiction. I'm going to buy some new cello music and just play to feel my heart soar. I'm going to find the simple pleasures again and hold on so tight I never lose them again.
