Reading My Moods
I read recently an article about reading paper books vs. reading digital books. One statistic that was stated was that even reading a paper book for a few minutes dropped stress levels by as much as 60%. Now, I didn't follow up on how that's even measured, but it did strike an answering chord in my mind.
I am always surprised by how much better I feel when I get a chance to read--really read, not just "I have one minute to read while the coffee is heating in the microwave" reading. And yes, that latter happens. It doesn't have to be hours of reading, either (because, seriously, that's not going to happen any time soon). Even just five minutes in a good book does seem to yield a more peaceable Katherine. This can only be good for...well...the world in general.
I think right now one of the main benefits is that I feel like I have something going into my brain. One of the side effects of spending most of my time with a toddler is that my activities and self-expression become much more limited. When I'm working to use smaller words so that she has any idea what I'm saying, it's like my brain forgets that there are whole panoramas of vocabulary that remain to be explored. The horizon of my front doorstep hides the vast vista of nations and peoples that are just like me and simultaneously not like me at all.
So it is blissful beyond explanation to sink into someone else's words and remember that I, too, have words in my heart and paths yet to explore. This messy living room is temporary, and someday my bounds will be less circumscribed once more.
I am always surprised by how much better I feel when I get a chance to read--really read, not just "I have one minute to read while the coffee is heating in the microwave" reading. And yes, that latter happens. It doesn't have to be hours of reading, either (because, seriously, that's not going to happen any time soon). Even just five minutes in a good book does seem to yield a more peaceable Katherine. This can only be good for...well...the world in general.
I think right now one of the main benefits is that I feel like I have something going into my brain. One of the side effects of spending most of my time with a toddler is that my activities and self-expression become much more limited. When I'm working to use smaller words so that she has any idea what I'm saying, it's like my brain forgets that there are whole panoramas of vocabulary that remain to be explored. The horizon of my front doorstep hides the vast vista of nations and peoples that are just like me and simultaneously not like me at all.
So it is blissful beyond explanation to sink into someone else's words and remember that I, too, have words in my heart and paths yet to explore. This messy living room is temporary, and someday my bounds will be less circumscribed once more.