August 9, 2010

Reading Once More

How do you restart something you somehow left behind?

I rediscovered reading this past month. I used to read all the time, gobbling up books left and right. I would have four or five books hidden around the house in various stages of completion. Never had a problem keeping characters or storylines straight. My parents could never figure me out. Punishments became a problem because grounding or being sent to my room was not a bad thing in my mind. My room held all my books and where would I want to go anyways!? I don’t know how I "stopped" reading. But I found less and less time to pick up a book and even less brain space to keep different books straight. I would start books and then put them down, only to pick them up and find I needed to restart them all over. I found myself rereading old favorites instead of diving into new books. Maybe my focus and interests just shifted to music, leaving no book time. College made any book time completely disappear. I had other books to read and reading for pleasure made me sleepy.

But I’ve read nearly ….. books in the past month. It started with Lulorial and her Kindle. Our time together has generally been spent talking or practicing, but this summer I discovered she loved to read as much as I once did. Her boyfriend had given her the Kindle as a gift and she was discovering all the free books on Amazon. Amazon joined up with Google and has many classic books available for free download to your Kindle or Kindle application. I had slowly been discovering my love for books as well.

I think one of my problems recently has been that I enjoy series more than stand-alone books. One of my favorite book series has 9 books in it, all about 400 pages each. It follows a large group of characters over a large period of time. There are deaths and losses and births and discoveries. TV shows work the same way for me. I enjoy movies, but they always end too soon for me. In a series, you get to really know the characters and their situations and their dimensions. Somewhere between the roommate from hell and my social anxiety, I found friends in the characters on my favorite TV shows. I would think about how they might handle a situation and often found correlations to my own life, like a friend offering advice. I do realize how pathetic I became, with TV charaters (not the actors) becoming my "close friends." But the same thing happens with book series. The characters become family, and important in my life.

So finding a book that I want to read is difficult. I want long drawn out series that somewhere spark my interest. I’ve never been into romantic novels, especially with all my recent heart-aches. And often times, those harlequin romance novels border on soft porn. Nothing that I’m against, but I just don’t want it all the time. I finally found a series that I truly enjoyed, but the reading is extremely difficult. The storyline jumps around and there is language used I am not used to. It is a great series and I have the first two (of fourteen!) in the series. But they are not books that I can read in short spurts. I need to sit down and dedicate long periods of time to them. Which is great, but not the best when what you’ve got is short spurts of time.

Then an English class on Arthurian literature led me a series by Jack Whyte, known as the Dragoon Series or Camulod Chronicles, depending on the edition. I purchased books 4 and 5 in the series since they seemed to deal the closest with Arthur specifically. I read them and discovered how wonderful they were. I’ve since collected and read more of the series. Again, it follows a family line leading to and from Arthur. These people become my family and friends as I watch them grow, change and die.

So I search for "good" series to continue my reading. Like Lulorial, I’ve also decided to dive into those classics that I’ve always wanted to read, but never had the time or energy. Being jobless and soon-to-be homeless gives you lots of time to read. This past month I’ve taken the train to Judy’s twice, so thats given me lots of opportunity to read and relax. This past week, I was house/dog-sitting for them so I read even more. Worked on my tan and enjoyed a new series. I’m a little unsure about this author. The subject material is a little close to Jack Whyte and he is no Jack Whyte. But the books are good and he has a few other good series I’d like to look into. The reading is a little simplistic, but there have been a few twist and turns in the storyline that I did not see coming.

So… I’m able to read again somehow. Since I finished all the non-fiction books on this trip, I’ve pulled out a book by Jeremy Begbie. He is a newly found hero of mine. Classicaly trained professional piantist who also holds a theology degree and is an amazing Christian. I first came across him at the Symposium in January. He was one of the guest speakers and as it turned out, one of Nord’s good friends. I loved his discussions and wanted to purchase one of his many books. They had run out at the table and then I lost track of the order sheet when 2nd semester started up. Then I became less and less financially able to spend money on all the things I wanted or even needed, and the desire to get his book was pushed behind trying to figure out how I was going to buy milk and bread. But I recently got my feet back under me a bit and found a used copy at a local bookstore. I was overjoyed and brought it with me on this last trip to Judy’s.

This man is basically a less mentally-handicapped version of myself. He found himself teetoring between the secular and sacred music worlds, unsure why the two were unable to function in the same space. He’s been exploring the impact of music from a Reformed Christian standpoint, all kinds and in all spaces. He’s a professionally trained musician and a theological mastermind. In short, he speaks in the two languages in which I speak. I talked with Mouse during this trip and expressed to her how I missed her. She and Nord are the only people I know who speaks in those languages and I’ve not had enough conversations with either of them recently. Which is somthing Mouse and I hope to remedy and I hope to work out with Nord. Its nobody’s fault but my own in reality, so I just need to make the conscious effort to reach out to them more.

To slightly alter the subject direction here…

One of the things I’ve realized as of late is my lack of friends in Michigan. Or rather I’ve started to understand why I have a lack of friends in Michigan. I can’t seem to connect with people. I feel like I’m speaking in a different language than everyone else in the room and I can’t seem to keep up with the translations. Its a weak analogy, but it does make sense. I’ve met and connected with no one like the oboe studio at Fredonia. Granted there is a level of survivor mentality that kick in when you’re in a situation like that, but still. The intricacies of that neurotic instrument is really only understood by others who deal with its neurosis on a daily basis. There just isn’t that out here, or rather I haven’t been able to find it. I haven’t been able to find a venue to push my limits in regards to the oboe. Now, oboe is very limited and I understand that. But even opened up to music and its tiny impacts and nuances… the only person who I connect with in that language is Nord. Being friends with a man is sometimes awkward, but being friends with a married man is even more strange at times. I don’t begrudge the boundaries we both observe and I completely understand their purpose. Without them, we wouldn’t have the kind of relationship that we are able to have. But a married professor at a college has other responsibilites and time constraints. And I understand that. I respect that. But I’m spending 98% of my time locked up in my apartment with my cat and no sound system. I’m going slightly insane. I miss the random conversations that happened in Mason. They are always inevitable when you cram that many musicians into one space, but I still miss them. I cannot seem to connect with any of the college musician students because… well, I’m not 20 anymore. I’m closer to 30 than I am to 20, and I just don’t connect with those people the same way.

Thats just the language of music. When I start thinking about the language of faith and religion, there were exactly 2 people I found at seminary that I could really talk to and relate with. One is a mother of 4 children with a very heavy school load. The other was a single mother who recently moved to Kentucky. They both have lives and responsibilites and things that need to be taken care of.

Where am I supposed to fit into those pictures? I just don’t belong. I haven’t found my Michigan James or Lulorial or Megan or even Mouse! And I understand that all my relationships with be different and you can’t duplicate relationships. But, pathetic as it may seem, I feel myself growing closer to an OD woman I’ve never met than anyone here. I’ve been feeling rotten lately because she shares and I love reading what she writes and how she interpretes her world, but I haven’t written anything in forever. I need to replace my TV with a stereo system and stop watching so much TV. Its not even real TV, its DVDs and movies. I miss my cousins, but they are all young or too far away or too involved in their own lives.

I just don’t belong here. I don’t seem to fit in or find a way to make this place a home. Try as I might, everything I seem to do just reaffirms that Michigan and I were never meant to fall in love. So why the hell am I still here? Its sounds stupid when I say it out loud and I feel like I’m turning into one of those Bible-thumping maniacs, but its because God said so.

I used to think that people who used that reasoning were slightly insane. I’d felt God’s presence before sure, but to actually hear his voice? To know beyond a glimmer of doubt that he just delivered some kind of message? How do you know its not just your own inner voice talking? And I don’t know how to explain it or describe it or quantify it. But as I was planning to leave Michigan and go home, God said no. This is the second time this year alone that he’s done this. I thought and prayed and asked others for advice and input and believed I was about to make a good decision… And God said no. Like an annoying all-knowing sibling shaking his head in kind but firm negation. No. I can’t leave Michigan yet. No other instruction or guidance. Just a solid no.

It makes me angry. It makes me want to stomp my feet and demand an explaination. I want assurances. I want promises. I want teasers and trailers and a glimpse into what might be coming next. I want to know everything is going to turn out okay. The thing is, I know everything is going to be okay.

Everything will be okay in the end. If its not okay, its not the end.

What is my only comfort in life and in death? That I belong wholly to Jesus Christ. In the end, I will be with him in heaven. And everything will be okay. If its not okay, its not the end. Right now, I just have to get through this middle mess.

Train is almost to GR, so I’m gonna pack this up. I need to write more. I need journal out my issues and thoughts and problems and daily hauntings. I need to read more and watch less.

I can do anything through him who gives me strength.