Slightly Creased #2: The next chapter

I haven’t written much of anything on this blog in a lonnnngggg time. I had such ambitions for it when I first started out. All the topics I was going to cover, all the people I was going to inspire. Somehow it didn’t quite work out, because life, as it has a slightly annoying habit of doing, has been getting in the way somewhat.

I won’t bore you with all the details, but, as the song goes, breaking up is so very hard to do. Especially after 14 years, 8 years of marriage and 2 children. If feel as though I have been something of a hermit since it all kicked off last summer – all my energy spent on overwhelming emotion and keeping things ticking over on a basic level (and not always doing a great job of it). The blog quickly fell by the wayside, along with, I’m very sorry to say, reading.

This is VERY strange. I have always been a big reader. It has always been my number 1 go-to pastime, I have always had 2 or 3 books on the go. I have always carried a book in my handbag in case I’m caught with 5 minutes to fill. I’ve always had a to-read pile as tall as me. But it has all dried up. I have barely read a thing (other than the odd self-help book) since around last July.

I’m not entirely sure why, since reading has always been an escapism for me. I have always been able to avoid, deny, put off or blank out whatever issue I didn’t want to face with the help of a book. But this time, I just haven’t been able to engross myself in anything. Nothing has distracted me or held my attention long enough for me to escape from anything.

I feel like I have been stuck on some heavy tome for months. The kind of book you feel you really should read, and that you cart around with you everywhere till it is dog-eared. But every time you pick it up, you have to keep reading the last chapter because it’s been ages, and you can’t remember what happened. And it is dull, and uninspiring, so you put it down after a few pages and go and make tea, or watch TV, or anything.

I miss reading. I miss the feeling you get from getting completely lost in a book. I miss that niggling feeling that you get when you don’t read before you sleep, like forgetting to brush your teeth. I miss getting to know people and places so intimately that you cry when they are gone.

I suppose it can only be a good sign when you start wanting to do the things you love again.  And, as they say “you can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one“. Which I think beautifully sums everything up. All I need is something particularly juicy, something that will really nourish the soul and stir the senses. Something big, meaty, life-affirming, uplifting and above all beautiful.

Time to start the next chapter.

Any recommendations?


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