The temperature dropped to about zero today, making me feel more alive than usual. In the chill, people move from office to car, and car to store faster than it takes to remind a friend “to stay warm.” You know that you walk among the living because you can see them breath. Holiday packages and bright decorations offer reminders of time passing quickly, and tasks that remain in the shopping days ahead.
It’s a great time of the year, to be sure. But what about when life doesn’t pack the charge of the holiday season? How do you energize yourself when your warning light shines blinking red? For me, it’s a matter of trying something different, learning something new, or simply opening myself to an idea.
A good bet for all of the above is a visit to your local Borders, local bookseller or, better, the public library. Upon entering, take it all in. Sense the knowledge and purpose presented on the shelves and promotional displays. Walk slowly in appreciation of the ttought and labor other men and women have poured into bound volumes that await your consideration.
I usually head first for the periodicals section. There, I look for titles in subjects about which I know little or nothing. Last week, when it seemed like autumn might never give way to winter, I was drawn to poetry. I sat down with a magazine for poets, after which I checked out a collection of poems on CD read by their authors.
When I returned to my car and inserted the first of six discs into the player, I was immediately transported. From nagging thoughts of life’s doldrums, I was transported to the worlds of James Weldon Johnson, Gertrude Stein and Robert Frost. I can’t guarantee a trip to your local purveyor of printed words will snap you out of your funk every time, but it certainly beats the digital alternatives that serve to deaden rather than awaken.
It’s a great time of the year, to be sure. But what about when life doesn’t pack the charge of the holiday season? How do you energize yourself when your warning light shines blinking red? For me, it’s a matter of trying something different, learning something new, or simply opening myself to an idea.
A good bet for all of the above is a visit to your local Borders, local bookseller or, better, the public library. Upon entering, take it all in. Sense the knowledge and purpose presented on the shelves and promotional displays. Walk slowly in appreciation of the ttought and labor other men and women have poured into bound volumes that await your consideration.
I usually head first for the periodicals section. There, I look for titles in subjects about which I know little or nothing. Last week, when it seemed like autumn might never give way to winter, I was drawn to poetry. I sat down with a magazine for poets, after which I checked out a collection of poems on CD read by their authors.
When I returned to my car and inserted the first of six discs into the player, I was immediately transported. From nagging thoughts of life’s doldrums, I was transported to the worlds of James Weldon Johnson, Gertrude Stein and Robert Frost. I can’t guarantee a trip to your local purveyor of printed words will snap you out of your funk every time, but it certainly beats the digital alternatives that serve to deaden rather than awaken.
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