As a child and teenager, books were my salvation. I was a constant reader, devouring pages like a hungry woman. Mainly novels- but not exclusively. I liked ‘reading round’ subjects… While studying Bach for my A level Music I remember reading a wonderful book on Baroque architecture.
My family were not very book orientated. My dad was unable to read or write until the day he died. My mum and brother could read (albeit non fluently) but never did for enjoyment. My sister can read and will still read when on holiday.
This holiday I’ve remembered again that reading is one of the few things that requires me to do it one-mindfully. I cannot read and do anything else at the same time (apart from drinking tea). When I crochet or knit I can still chat or be aware of the tele. When I bake I can listen to the archers! When I write I can still have a vague conversation with someone. But when I read it demands all of me. Which is possibly why I don’t do it as much as I should. I can’t read with music or tele on, it is far too distracting. It is one activity that demands me to be as DBT describes- one-mindful.
What a gift. I need to move from reading being a treat (normally reserved for holidays) to reading being part of keeping sane regime. It’s one of the few medicines that really is quite pleasant!
Thanks for listening. Enjoy doing something one-mindfully, it’s good for the soul!