Since Friday, I have confined myself to one place. I have rested and read, pondered and prayed, while Scott and the kids and my parents and friends took care of the world around me. I feel like it was my chance to get back to center, and I have. I didn't plan on learning so much, or of being so still, or even of finding my center again, but that is what happened.
Fortuitously, just the right books came to me, and I began reading. I first delved into the new Khalid Hosseini book, And the Mountains Echoed. If you haven't read it, you can imagine how depressing and wrenching it might be, taking place in Afghanistan. I was immediately overcome with a gratitude for modern medicine, and a time and place where we are so incredibly comfortable. Even today, there are millions of people in the world who have no access to relief from their physical and temporal struggles. For many, a small bunion like mine would be a life sentence to pain. For millions of people, there is no place to turn for respite from the toil of survival.
And here I have rested, in my beautiful bedroom, recovering from a surgery I feel very privileged to have had. Before Scott painted the room, I would stare at the burnt orange wall and derive happiness from the color saturation. Now, as I let my eyes bore into the new steely, muddy grey, I derive strength from the color. It is a strong color, rich and deep. Scott chose the exact right color for what we need in our lives right now. He was more perceptive than I was to know it was time for a change. My well has been filled with happiness, and now I need a steely strength and determination to get the family on track for the school year. Scott gave me just the right home base from which to accomplish that, and from which to realize exactly what was causing my weakness...
I have always been an avid reader, but the past few months, I haven't had the concentration to commit to a book. As I delved into reading again this week, something mighty uncomfortable dawned on me: I have been seduced away from reading by social media, and the small articles and snippets that come with it. I have been carried away by the ease and the immediate gratification that comes with scrolling through the endless platitudes, thoughts, comments and pictures. Don't get me wrong, I love Facebook and Instagram and scrolling through articles on npr.org or CNN or lds.org. I love having knowledge at my fingertips. But that's part of the problem. Truly, that kind of surface engagement doesn't fill one's soul like a good book. And the sad part is, I didn't even realize what I was lacking until I had it back. I felt weakened, and I couldn't pinpoint why. Life demands deep engagement, yet it is so easy to disengage from anything requiring effort. There are always plenty of easy distractions to fill the void.
The second book I read this weekend was "Let's Roll," by the widow of one of the men on United Flight 93, the one that crashed in the Pennsylvania field. As I read about the fragility and brevity of life, and the heroism and courage humans are capable of, I kept wanting to reach out and hug Scott and the kids. The book and the Lortab made for an inspiring combination. :) I vowed to pour my energy into strengthening family bonds, striving to develop a strong work ethic in my children, increasing our family's relationship with our Heavenly Father, and gaining the kind of education that runs deeper than an article and lasts longer than a status update.
As Scott and I strive to make good decisions for our family, here's a thought I want to keep in mind: "Beware the barrenness of a busy life." - Socrates
Ouch. Growth hurts.
Fortuitously, just the right books came to me, and I began reading. I first delved into the new Khalid Hosseini book, And the Mountains Echoed. If you haven't read it, you can imagine how depressing and wrenching it might be, taking place in Afghanistan. I was immediately overcome with a gratitude for modern medicine, and a time and place where we are so incredibly comfortable. Even today, there are millions of people in the world who have no access to relief from their physical and temporal struggles. For many, a small bunion like mine would be a life sentence to pain. For millions of people, there is no place to turn for respite from the toil of survival.
And here I have rested, in my beautiful bedroom, recovering from a surgery I feel very privileged to have had. Before Scott painted the room, I would stare at the burnt orange wall and derive happiness from the color saturation. Now, as I let my eyes bore into the new steely, muddy grey, I derive strength from the color. It is a strong color, rich and deep. Scott chose the exact right color for what we need in our lives right now. He was more perceptive than I was to know it was time for a change. My well has been filled with happiness, and now I need a steely strength and determination to get the family on track for the school year. Scott gave me just the right home base from which to accomplish that, and from which to realize exactly what was causing my weakness...
I have always been an avid reader, but the past few months, I haven't had the concentration to commit to a book. As I delved into reading again this week, something mighty uncomfortable dawned on me: I have been seduced away from reading by social media, and the small articles and snippets that come with it. I have been carried away by the ease and the immediate gratification that comes with scrolling through the endless platitudes, thoughts, comments and pictures. Don't get me wrong, I love Facebook and Instagram and scrolling through articles on npr.org or CNN or lds.org. I love having knowledge at my fingertips. But that's part of the problem. Truly, that kind of surface engagement doesn't fill one's soul like a good book. And the sad part is, I didn't even realize what I was lacking until I had it back. I felt weakened, and I couldn't pinpoint why. Life demands deep engagement, yet it is so easy to disengage from anything requiring effort. There are always plenty of easy distractions to fill the void.
The second book I read this weekend was "Let's Roll," by the widow of one of the men on United Flight 93, the one that crashed in the Pennsylvania field. As I read about the fragility and brevity of life, and the heroism and courage humans are capable of, I kept wanting to reach out and hug Scott and the kids. The book and the Lortab made for an inspiring combination. :) I vowed to pour my energy into strengthening family bonds, striving to develop a strong work ethic in my children, increasing our family's relationship with our Heavenly Father, and gaining the kind of education that runs deeper than an article and lasts longer than a status update.
As Scott and I strive to make good decisions for our family, here's a thought I want to keep in mind: "Beware the barrenness of a busy life." - Socrates
Ouch. Growth hurts.
6 comments:
Wow what a great quote from Socrates! Glad you soul is becoming more healthy along with your foot!
Love your thoughts and how you express them. Coco
Maybe your room is the color of silver linings. You always seem to have a knack finding them.
lsd.org? :)
Love That Quote!!!
I hope you still have the Afghanistan book. I still need that one. :) Loved all your thoughts. This weekend at the lot, I did just what you said and engaged with a book. I finished it in a day. It is amazing what you can do in a hammock around a fire while eating an exorbitant amount of smores and treats. :) We missed you guys.
love the quote, and your words ring so true with me. I don't even remember the last book I read - what it was or when I read it. Occasionally I will pull out "Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child" to help me feel better about my crying baby in his crib, but that is in no way relaxing to me!
Time for a shift.
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