Of Seeking: First Love, Always-Love: Reading
My mother was an elementary school teacher before retiring a few years ago. An avid reader herself, she was determined to establish the love of reading in her children. She had no idea, I don't think, just how much of that blood was already pumping through my baby veins. It was the perfect marriage of nature and nurture, naked and lovely in its mo-t uncontroversial form.
vi.sualize.us |
Our house was full of books, and mom often read to me, and I to her, once I learned. It was our nightly ritual. I can also remember curling up by myself in the corner of our sectional sofa, eager to sneak a greedy peek at all those differing lines. I loved these stealing those words away, and locking them inside. It was in these tender hours that my my love of reading grew, a complicated love, both patient and eager, meditative, but also frantic in its appetite.
Bonjour Tristesse - |
yura yuntolov |
I took those quiet moments as I nurtured the love inside of me. It was young love. It was the first, but it would later be followed by several achy schoolgirl crushes on a couple of boys from AP English in high school, and an even more devastating on a young, talented, tall and skinny poetry major in college. I'm sure never noticed. . . and likely would have been mortified, however gracious they may have been if they found out.
Favium |
So I majored in Poetry, and yes I did it for love. I did it for the love of the craft, yes - but mainly for the love of reading, of talking reading. I did it for the love of coffee and cigarettes - though I never smoked them - I did it for the love of wine, and 7-9pm classes, when everything was quiet in the normally bustling halls. I did if for the love of my mom, and of all those writers that I never met and never would, but with whom I felt an endless connection. I did it cause I think I knew, even then, that reading was not only a part of me, but a part of so many other people, people who may not even know yet how deep and true that blood flows in them. I think I did it because I knew one day I would want to help them find it. Find poetry, or reading, or whatever it was that brought them joy. I want to help kids find the way to what they love. I don't care if its autoshop or water aerobics. Damn it, I want to help them find it, and celebrate it.
vi.sualize.us |
But right now, I am so lost, I don't know how I know that now is the time - that I have to take this leap, while I'm still young. and telling me to take that leap. I think I've known, and I think I've not known. Right now, I have a steady job, a good paying job, a job that is rewarding because it supports a really good cause. I work really hard. I do - - Really hard. But I am so unfulfilled.
http://maluna.tumblr.com/ |
and honestly, I'm heartsick.
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So as I stand on the precipice of my late twenties, I know now is the time. I've expected this feeling for a really long time, now, and suddenly it's here, knocking at my door. Calling me in the night. It's not just deep down inside, it's all around me. I am simply, haunted, and I'm scared shitless. But really, I sound like one of those annoying people on a movie, or in a book, (the cheap ones) who don't know they're in love. But the truth is, I've never tried to deny it.
wordsofyounghearts.tumblr.com |
I know there are so many signs telling me that I am right about the way I feel and that I should be doing something other than what I'm doing right now. I have no idea how I am going to do it but I'm going to have to get ready, and soon.
vi.sualize.us |
So that is why I am announcing right here, right now - that I am going to go start getting some plans together to go back to school for teaching. I honestly would love it, and I'm sure hate it a little bit, but I think it would be a fulfilling choice anyway. I am ready. Literature, Writing, Drama.
I want to share these things so badly. This is something that I've thought about a lot, and I can't hold it back anymore. It scares me to write this. But I'm being real here. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do anyway, as a writer? Be real with you? I promise to always be real.
Thethinkingtank.com |
I want to share these things so badly. This is something that I've thought about a lot, and I can't hold it back anymore. It scares me to write this. But I'm being real here. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do anyway, as a writer? Be real with you? I promise to always be real.
The Hunger Games on Etsy |
National Poetry Month #2
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