So I asked my husband to buy me a calendar – anything except the ‘peanuts’ one. He got me the ‘peanuts’ one 🙂 No, he didn’t do it to spite me. It was miscommunication or one of us not paying attention, I won’t say who. I owned that same calendar for 2012 and it had too much extra space I didn’t use. But, hey I got most of the resolutions I had in mind achieved this year so I guess it’s destined to be with me and it’s destined to let me continue stick to my resolutions and achieve new goals. So I’m saying.
I got a host of them. I want to be a better mom, learn how to discipline without getting frustrated, teach good manners, eating habits and educate my daughter, more family time, more cooking … spend less money, run as much as I did this year, strength train, eat right, you know the usual and then some …. I want to watch less T.V – now that’s going to be something. And then there’s the read more books. I love books. Used to have quite an appetite as a kid and read voraciously. I got into the habit partly because I came from a family that read a lot, mostly mom and also because of my best friend B – we went to the library more times than we opened our school books 🙂 Then I started developing a problem after I came to the U.S. A commitment issue. With lack of time, came this inability to commit to any one book. I’d flirt endlessly with book after book, hold on to some like they’d be mine shortly, longingly look at each one re-reading the synopsis or sometimes just taking in the glossy cover, then I’d abandon them abruptly, dashing out without looking back. It’s best that way you know. It’s cleaner. It’s not you. It’s me. Sigh! At times after much deliberation I’d fall upon a book and finally enjoy it. But as the years went on I grew more irritable if the book I’d bestowed my precious time on turned out to be rotten. I became more and more critical and I also started hoarding books. No more abandoning. I can’t remember the last time I walked out of a book store without purchasing a book. I probably have more than 50 or so books in the house today – unread, untouched, discarded in my own home. I’d be drawn to the serious, mostly sad classics and indie fictions and I’d tell myself I cannot afford to become sad so I cannot read it now. I hesitated picking some of the light hearted reads I had. How could I with a house full of books more worthy of my time. Talk about how to make life difficult for yourself. Add to that another 50 or so of my husband’s books which are on my list of books to read (did I mention I also collect book lists) .. I have no reason to buy anymore.
Well back on topic, I plan to read more for which I know I need to let go of these stupid apprehensions and get back to what books are really all about – the simple joy of reading – no hard rules, no prejudices, accept one with open arms, a cozy chair and immerse yourself. If it doesn’t suit you, put it behind ya and move on to the next one. Much like life.
My Christmas gift this year, upon my request is a big box full of all my unread books. It’s sitting below the tree. I hope I learn to enjoy them again like I used to. I sure am ready to.
