Lost in a book store

I love to read.  It has not always been that way, however.  When I was learning to read I struggled with dyslexia so the letters and words changed sizes and danced on the pages.  It was hard to focus or follow along with the class.  Because I had trouble following the words I hated the sound of my voice in the reading circle because it stopped and started, sounding so unsure and constantly needing help from the teacher with the others in the circle snickering behind their books.  (I'm sure they did.)

Finally I gained some control of my difficulties sometime after junior high and began to read everything I could get my hands on.  It is still the same today.  I read fiction, non-fiction, history, biographies, poems, short stories, novels, novellas, cookbooks and self-help, magazines and newspapers.  I especially like new age, vampire stuff, ghost and haunting s, healing, spiritual and prayer information.  I don't like romance so much, it doesn't seem real to me anymore but . . . that's just me.

My favorite place is not the library, that seems too overwhelming and frustrating some how.  It is the book store.  Barnes and Nobles is the one close by.  I like to go there alone so I can roam the isles aimlessly.  I like to go there on a mission for some new book I heard about or the next novel in a series that I must have before I finish the current one.  But most importantly I like to go there when I am feeling stressed or panicky.

Probably sounds strange but it calms me.  I loose myself there.  I leave my head, all the stuff that is stressing me.  I breath in the energy of all those books.  Also the energy of all those present who have also lost themselves because we book lovers are mostly all alike.

So if I don't speak to you when you see me next week in that special place, I am not being rude, I am just not in my body, I am in the zone.

Life lived

As I lay awake last night I pondered on my life from the eyes of my children.  I remember when my dearest dad dropped his anchor a few years ago I felt that I had lost so much time failing to get to know how he came be  the honorable man he was.  My daughter, Samantha, loves to hear stories of my childhood as I recall them  but when my sons were growing up, I didn't think about how important that history is and I was very busy trying to be a good mom while working to help support the family.  Now Heath and Dane are grown men and making their own stories.  I wonder what would matter to them later when I am gone.  I wonder what they will remember of our life together.  What has the life I have lived and am living told them about me and about survival or about the world as a whole?  At the same time, I love to see the kids all together as they talk about "the good old days".  They laugh at each other as they share their version of what ever the story is of their childhood antics.  It brings me great joy to see they are good friends and pray they continue to love and know each other.  And I pray that I have been a joy to them.

Fall Season of my Body

Lunablossom shared with us her musings of her moving from Mother to Crone with the surgical change of her body.  It is appropriate she has done this now as I have been thinking and in fact struggling with my own changes.  I also had to have a surgical transition from Mother to Crone a few years ago and at first I pondered at how I did not feel any differently.  I reasoned, at the time, that it was because I still have a  child at home. 

Now as my daughter, the last still in the nest, moves from the child to the Maiden I find myself mourning the loss of my young, hungry and nubile body of Venus.  I look in the mirror and don't recognize the woman I see there.  I wonder if other strong women feel the same loss with this transition from Mother to Crone. 

I have supposed I should try to become more familiar with the Crone Goddess.  Maybe with this added understanding I would be better able to emotionally embrace the softer curves of myself.