Tuesday, January 19, 2016

From being a writer ...to living as a reader

There was a time when I would crib over the fact that reading was not something that I could do; after all it required sitting and reading and that needed patience. My Masters course offered no escape from reading for we were expected to read approximately 150 to 200 pages per week and comment on them with our two page reflections. Perhaps that was the first time I began thinking, reflecting and questioning as I read.
Today as I look back at my reflections of readings of Plato's The Republic or Gandhi's My Experiments with Truth or Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye amongst various others, the reflections appear alien      (as they have a profound touché!). I wish to bring up the difference between reading and reading with reflecting. The latter is what truly nurtures the soul. The questions raised the doubts that bud and the everlasting confusions, all are tiny seeds of a soul that come out nourished after a good wordly meal. Last year, specifically, marked for me a new beginning in terms of reading books. We psychologists or psychotherapists ought to read to work to the best of our potential for our patients. Thanks to my profession, I read some elegant, classy yet raw and brutally honest books. I read Alain De Botton's Essays in Love, which still mesmerises me, ( I'll be re- reading it again sometime), Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie, Tanya Byron’s The Skeleton Cupboard, Buddhist leader Daisaku Ikeda, Dalai Lama, Eckhart Tolle, J.K.Rowling, Irving Yalom, two renowned psychotherapists Jon Carlson and Jeffrey Kotler, Erich Fromm, Winnicott, Richard Bach, Rumi among many others. I simply read and as I did I found how I gradually began appreciating the authors I read.
 Reading is like drinking green tea, you need honey to start sipping it initially but as you begin, the green tea itself seems sufficient ( for me Tulsi flavoured) and each sip a dip into eternity. So, even if you read a page a day, don't fret, you're on the right track! Today as I write on my cellphone I was amidst reading Ruskin Bond's "Falling in love again". It's a poetic treat. He is my kind of writer. His metaphors are like streams of waterfalls and his words are like music on harp. His book is my third book of the year (the other two are partly read, yes I have begun to devour books now) and his lines melt my heart like a chocolate. I rise and fall in the waves painted by him on this canvas. For those on goodreads, an advice - Reading is not a competition. Among all the things you run for or about in life, please spare reading! It's supposed to be a leisure (I'm not including textbook reading here) and let it be. I purposely haven't synced my goodreads with FB friends for I do not want to get worried by who is reading how many. Goodreads is one favourite site for me. I love their reccomendations. This year my cherished gifts were all books and I'm only glad! There are some 60 books waiting to be read and the list only gets longer by the hour. Have a blessed and a nourishing reading year ahead!
Have a reading year ahead!:) 

P.S: I just finished Ruskin Bond’s Falling in Love Again and Virginia M Axline’s Dibs in Search of Self

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