Medicine for the Soul


I’ve had a very literary few days.  I spent last night having drinks at the ShoHouse while a handsome Joshua Ferris read from his latest creation at the “20 Under 40” New Yorker event.  And tonight, I forewent yoga to see four talented young female writers read their works from a kate spade compilation entitled “She is Quick and Curious and Playful and Strong.”  I am nothing if not a classy, highbrow New Yorker.

Sigh. Far from it unfortunately, this is just what happens when your cell, television, and wireless internet go down in the same week. You spend $100 at the Strand Bookstore.   You miss the Halloween episode of Glee, the DVR’ed season finale of Mad Men, and the hilarity of Modern Family.  I don’t want to discuss it.  Instead, you read.  A lot.  And thank God for it.

Last night at 2am, I listened to the rain coming down…and thought.  Remembered, acknowledged and otherwise stapled into my brain that these are the times I’m going to cherish….the struggle, the uncertainty.  Forgiving that it could have been any different. The time where I learned to not “run with scissors, don’t leave the iron on, don’t cross against the light, and don’t be afraid of a broken heart.”  It’s not the good times that make you who you are.  It’s these times that allow you to become who you were meant to be. 

And so tonight, I sit, lit by the candlelight of my newly carved pumpkins, pushing away the thoughts of Hemingway-ing myself.  And instead appreciating.  That I live in a city that allows me to introduce myself to an author I admire, an apartment that greets me with a comfy couch and a silent glass of wine, whose art on the walls is taken by own hand, whose shelves are weighed down by the newly purchased books that teeter off their dusty piles.  A place in my life that teems of great friends, a nearby yoga studio that always saves an Ommm, and another chapter to be read…..one day written.  “If there’s a book you really want to read but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it,” said the great Toni Morrison.  Looks like my television is not getting fixed anytime soon.

 

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