Sharing insights from my reading list and finding the health in the written word.
Growing up, my library spanned a wide variety of genres, due in large part to my placement in a family much younger than my siblings and with parents nearly an entire generation older than typical. I remember writing a book report on Black Like Me in 8thGrade and spending time with The Screwtape Lettersin late elementary years. One of my favorite books that I would visit year after year was Jonathan Livingston Seagull– I close my eyes and picture it – small, thin, black cover, simple white seagull outline, the yellow font of the title and the white, all-caps crediting the author for his work. Perhaps because of its brevity more than anything, it was my go-to for a quick visit and moment of contemplation. It has admittedly been years – probably at least a decade – since my last read through but in recent weeks, I felt the deep urge to find and read this book again.
Knowing that the original already existed in my collection – likely still at my childhood home – I first sought a copy at the library but none was in stock. Initial book store attempt was fruitless, but the second led me to a new edition – unfamiliar sky-blue color and verbiage describing inclusion of Part Four. Intrigued, I made the purchase and proceeded to rekindle our literary relationship. Sitting on the sidelines of my son’s soccer game, overlooking the mountainside and hoping to avoid the rain, I opened the broadened cover and knew immediately why I had to read this book and why now was the moment.