Tuesday, February 8, 2011


So I really haven't been sure about how much to update this blog about my concussions. I personally don't care to read too much about other peoples health, so I've tried to mostly keep it out of here. Which means I haven't been blogging a lot, 'cause not a lot else has been going on.

But then again, this is a record of life (mine), and I don't like it when people just pretend that life is fine and dandy when life isn't fine and dandy. So I do want to write a little about it.

One of the hardest things about this whole concussion thing (it's been almost a month!) is that I can't read. Well, not literally. I'm not typing this blindfolded. But I can't read for long periods of time. It's like getting sick while all your friends are gone a month long retreat without you and you just feel a little lost and forlorn. I don't think I've ever gone a month without reading a book. Even during college crunching there would always be something to escape too, not to mention all the text book reading that happened.

One of the strangest feelings is coming across a book that I want to read and my first instinct is to look it up in the library and put it on hold. And then I realize there's no point to that. BECAUSE I CAN"T READ. And I haven't been to the library in over a month. Ouch.

I once heard (or maybe it's a famous quote) that you can tell the character of a person by his/her bookshelf and I think that's really quite true. One of the first things I do when I visit someones house for the first time is to notice their books. It's really quite a subconscious thing. And I often don't realize I'm standing there reading all of their book titles until I'm halfway down the bookshelf.

For a while, in one of my many "let's see how many different ways I can re-arrange my bedroom" phases I took out my bookcase and put most of my books in dresser drawers (the reason escapes me at the moment). I don't think that lasted more than a couple of weeks as every time I entered my room I felt for a moment lost. Part of me was hidden, in the dresser, and I didn't like it.

Often all I need for motivation or a perk-me-up during the day is a glance at my bookcase. Some title will catch my eye and immediately I'll feel refocused.

Now, since I can't read I'm watching Netflix and documentaries, but there's something just not as satisfying as reading. Something feels like it's missing. The small sense of accomplishment as you finish a page or a chapter. Or maybe I'm just impatient as stories and facts just unfold slower then when you are reading a book.

So hopefully this isn't going to last much longer. My tolerance is slowly going up (thank God). It has been a good for me to learn to relax and find joy in not doing anything. And being joyful, no matter what, is what life in Christ is all about.

*And yes I am posting this at 1:40am. Just had a "midnight" snack with Mums and Scott. Good thing I'm not planning on doing anything tomorrow. :D

No comments: