Too Much of Not Enough

 You have loved me since before I even existed

You have nurtured me with all of your heart

And provided for me in every way that you knew how

You saw yourself reflected in the bright blue of our eyes

The rosiness of our matching cheeks

I am a reflection of you in a frosted mirror

I hide under the cape of your care and the security of your embrace

Yet I feel unseen and misunderstood

I exist as a whirl of emotions that sometimes feels like too much

My ways are not fitting inside your box of logic and reason

My creativity roars and longs for an outlet 

I live in the shadow of your dreams 

The misunderstood black sheep of the family 

Carving my own path being my only sin 

I have spent countless times wondering if I’m good enough 

Not seeing my own value and unique abilities

I have spent years trying to measure up 

The imaginary meter stick illuding me at every turn 

Trying to achieve the thing that will make me acceptable

Trying to fit into that box of the ordinary

Rather than allow myself to be extraordinary

But I don’t blame you because you are who you are 

We all have our limits

We all have our own worldview

We all have our own twisted history

But from my perspective 

I’ve experienced a lifetime of being dearly loved

But only in parts

Only the bits and pieces that make sense to you

For me to be able to move on, I need to acknowledge our truth

To see you and I exactly as we are

Fully and finally letting go of what I never actually had

Before I am forced to let you go forever as I know that I eventually will

That day will forever come sooner than I want

I have had to mourn the loss of the relationship I wish we had

The one where I could go to you to say any thing

Do anything

Be anything 

Believe me when I say that I have tried to curate what we could be for so many years 

only to face the stubborn wall that has keept us apart

I am simultaneously exactly who you’d like me to be 

And everything you can’t understand

I will always feel like not enough and yet too much

I will always be your daughter

And you will always be the mother that I love in all the wrong ways

Tell Me What You Read and I'll Tell you Who You Want To Be

There have been countless times in my life when I have curled up into a cozy corner of my house, cuddled up with a comfy blanket, a warm tea by my side with my toes tucked up under me to get lost in a book.  It wasn't until I read Leah Price's What We Talk About When We Talk About Books that I realized that I wasn't getting lost, in fact I was being found.

If you're thinking of reading this book what you need to know is that it is a book about the history of books and the future of reading.  Price is a professor and the book has some very mixed reviews.  Did I love it in its entirety?  No.  But am I glad I read it?  Yes.  There were so many aspects of it that I loved about this book as a bonafide book lover.  So if you're like me, you might want to give it a spin.

To read this book is to discover the history of reading and the history of the book itself (not literature).  Price explains how reading is not a dying art but rather an everlasting and ever changing enterprise.  Although the book is a bit academic it is at the same time accessible.  It is a bit long winded and sometime vague.  But if you're looking to gain a better understanding of the history (and future) of books then this is the book for you.

One of my biggest takeaways from reading this book was regarding my relationship with books. 

I always saw books as special and sacred things that I enjoyed privately but this book taught me that books were one of the first mass-produced and mass-marketed objects in history; if that doesn't take away from the specialness of books, then I don't know what would.  That being said, even though books are mass produced and mass-marketed, each one is totally different because as people read, books change.  No two readings are ever the same.

But one of the most moving realizations from this book is how books have historically been linked to illness and disease.

Price taught me that whether books are considered the cause or the cure for illness depends on what era you're in.  As a literature lover, I never overtly thought about books from a medical perspective however I've always known that for me, books are my great healers; they are my therapy.  As Price points out, reading can be be described as bibliotherapy. 

Just as one can diagnose someone based on what medications they take, you can look at what one reads and know a thing or two about who they are and who they want to be.

I've always know that I turn to books as a form of self-help and healing.  But I never considered that my personality and values could be diagnosed by what I read. 

Now I'm wondering about who I am. 

If I look back at what I've read over the years, what does that say about me?  What am I searching for?  Who do I want to become?

When I look back on my reading lists from the past few years of my personal reading challenge here's a run down about what I discovered:


- I want to be at peace with every aspect of my life
- I want to be able to accept myself and forgive myself for my imperfections
- I want to practice more creativity in my life
- I want to find the light in the darkness
- I want to be a better person for the people around me
- I want to better understand what happened during the Holocaust
- I want to help others become their best selves by bringing out the best in me

I wonder, if you were to go back over the books you've read recently, what they would say about you?  Are you becoming the person you want to be or are you just drowning in a sea of books?

Silent No More

Lies, gossip, manipulation, deception, infidelity, loss, retaliation, insincerity, abduction, and bitterness.  Interested yet?

Well, I am (and I'm kind of not).

You see, I'm a softy.  I'm not a fan of any media that focus on this type of content.  So, as I read The Family Next Door by Sally Hepworth I found myself in a world that exposed me to this type of content.  As I read, I found myself asking, what is it about this story that draws people in?  I honestly had such trouble getting into it.  The book made me feel downright uncomfortable.

You guys, maybe I'm too much of a lightweight; perhaps I'm a bit of a schmuck.  Maybe I'm just too idealistic to get into this type of book.  Who knows?

What do know is this: when I'm reading a book (especially in light of what I'm trying to achieve here with this blog) I'm looking for some deep kernel of truth.  Some tiny seed buried in the depth of the novel that finds it's way to my heart and soul.  Some tiny (or huge) moment that forces me to reflect.  Something that helps me make meaning of this messy and complicated world that we live in.

Now in this book (at least for me, perhaps it would be different for you) what I found was silence.

No, literally.

Silence was at the core of this book.

Silence which left characters in difficult situations that led them to make some pretty bad choices.

Silence which caused them not to deal with their problems which only caused their problems to simply get worse.

Silence which caused irreparable damage to their relationships.

The deception, lies, and infidelity in this book made me uncomfortable.  I realized early on that I wasn't meshing with the characters.  I didn't like what they had to offer me but I held out and stuck it through and I'm glad I did.

Because I realized that if I didn't finish the book then I wouldn't be blogging about it.  There would be yet again, another moment of silence, this time on my part.

In reading books I often find myself seeking philosophies that validate my personal vision and deep need for positive thinking.  I seek out the vision that the author has to offer and look to align it with my own or determine how it might make me revise my perceptions.  This book didn't exactly do that for me, but it did make me realize something.

Perhaps there is comfort in reading about the nastiness of the world - maybe reading stories about cheating and indiscretion validates your experiences or makes you feel a little less guilty because there is someone out there (fictional or not) doing something worse than you?  In reading books like this you realize that you are not the world's biggest screw up.  There are others out there that have it bad.  You?  You're not so bad in comparison.

But is that what you truly want for your life?

In all honestly I don't consider myself a screw up even though I've screwed up plenty of times.  I know that I've needed to learn when to shut up and when to stand up and speak out.  It's been a journey and as I'm getting older and it's becoming clearer to me now more than ever that my voice is indeed powerful and needed in this world.  

However, the reality is that words are a double edged sword.  They can release and they can imprison.  They can heal and they can hurt.  They can create and they can destroy.

Too often I have walked through life in silence; not speaking up when I needed to.  Not telling others how I truly felt.  I feel truly blessed to be writing this blog because it has allowed me to say so much that would have otherwise gone unsaid and to free so many of my emotions and thoughts that would have otherwise remained trapped within me. 

Even now as we all struggle through the Covid-19 pandemic, I have found it difficult to write.  I have felt like the words are escaping me.  And the quieter I get, the worse I feel.  Getting back into reading and writing for this blog has proven to be rather helpful.

Here's why...

You see, for me reading books has always been a form of therapy.  Call it "bibliotheraphy" if you will.  If I have a problem, I get a book.  If I'm trying to improve some aspect of my life, I get a book.  If I'm having trouble getting along with a certain person, I get a book.  If I'm not wanting to deal with the issues that are going on in the great big world, I get a book.

I know it might seem weird but does anyone feel me?

Honestly, until I started writing about the books I was reading I was totally missing out on half of my therapy session.  Talking about the books is just as therapeutic as reading them.

So for those of you who read some of my more personal posts and wonder how I had the guts to lay out my personal story on the line, I have to tell you that rather than make me feel afraid and trapped, writing about it made me feel free.

Now that I'm writing this blog, the silence is broken and I feel more myself.  To be completely honest, this is a byproduct that I never expected.

By writing in this blog I am breaking the silence.  I am ending areas of conflict in my life, working out solutions to problems that I face, finding ways to cope with people who I find challenging and most importantly, rather than running away and hiding out with a book, I find myself coming to a better understanding of who I am within this crazy world.

I shall keep working through these challenging times as we all struggle to make sense of what will happen next.

I hope that you too will find a way to be heard.  I hope that you will feel and understand the importance of your voice.  I hope that you will acknowledge the double edge sword of words and be brave even if it scares you.

Now is the time to share your voice and be silent no more.