old words and new ways
The interest and intention is there to read all of the books that I've collected over the past years, months, weeks, even days. But the time is not.
I've been known to spend full days in the bookstore, pouring over each and every shelf in search of the book with all the answers. And while I've figured out that that book doesn't exist (I may just have to write it) I'm a sucker for old words placed on new pages in all different kinds of ways. I approach a new book like I approached the first day of school as a kid: a blank notepad to write down the thoughts the adventure is sure to inspire, freshly sharpened pencils topped with brightly colored erasures, and neat as a pin desktops (or clutter free couches) that protect from mental distractions.
I'm still collecting the books, I'm just not reading them. (Maybe it also has something to do with the thrill of anticipation I wrote about in little treasures).
But I am reading great children's books. And what I'm finding (or maybe remembering) is that it doesn't take big words (or many or any words at all) to feel a shift--in thinking, in doing, in stopping, in starting. In fact, these little books are changing me in big ways.
For example, right now Ava and I can't get enough of "The Gift of Nothing."
It tells the story of Mooch the cat who is desperate to find the perfect gift for his friend, Earl the dog. Of course, the perfect gift for Earl who has everything eludes Mooch. So, Mooch wraps up a great big box full of "nothing" and gives it to Earl. When Earl opens the box, he says to Mooch, "But there is nothing in here." To which Mooch replies, "I know. Nothing but you and me."
Then, there is "The Nose Book." Now, on its face (no pun intended) it's a fun rhyme about noses. Dig a little deeper and it prepares kids for all of the different kinds of noses that "they'll meet"--all shapes, sizes, and colors (maybe helps to develop a little tolerance and sensitivity?) and even encourages them to stretch their imagination and consider what would happen if we had "no nose!" (Just think of it!)
I'm not sure that any of the grown-up books that are waiting in my in-box would have shed light on two practices that I've started doing since my return to children's books (at least as succinctly or efficiently):
I've been known to spend full days in the bookstore, pouring over each and every shelf in search of the book with all the answers. And while I've figured out that that book doesn't exist (I may just have to write it) I'm a sucker for old words placed on new pages in all different kinds of ways. I approach a new book like I approached the first day of school as a kid: a blank notepad to write down the thoughts the adventure is sure to inspire, freshly sharpened pencils topped with brightly colored erasures, and neat as a pin desktops (or clutter free couches) that protect from mental distractions.
I'm still collecting the books, I'm just not reading them. (Maybe it also has something to do with the thrill of anticipation I wrote about in little treasures).
But I am reading great children's books. And what I'm finding (or maybe remembering) is that it doesn't take big words (or many or any words at all) to feel a shift--in thinking, in doing, in stopping, in starting. In fact, these little books are changing me in big ways.
For example, right now Ava and I can't get enough of "The Gift of Nothing."
It tells the story of Mooch the cat who is desperate to find the perfect gift for his friend, Earl the dog. Of course, the perfect gift for Earl who has everything eludes Mooch. So, Mooch wraps up a great big box full of "nothing" and gives it to Earl. When Earl opens the box, he says to Mooch, "But there is nothing in here." To which Mooch replies, "I know. Nothing but you and me."
Then, there is "The Nose Book." Now, on its face (no pun intended) it's a fun rhyme about noses. Dig a little deeper and it prepares kids for all of the different kinds of noses that "they'll meet"--all shapes, sizes, and colors (maybe helps to develop a little tolerance and sensitivity?) and even encourages them to stretch their imagination and consider what would happen if we had "no nose!" (Just think of it!)
I'm not sure that any of the grown-up books that are waiting in my in-box would have shed light on two practices that I've started doing since my return to children's books (at least as succinctly or efficiently):
- To do nothing more often with those who already have everything and especially with those who mean everything.
- To wear my glasses more often because I should and because I can, thanks to my nose!
The Splurge of Nothing:
When you're feeling the itch to buy (or are desperate for the perfect gift) instead, pull this off the shelf--to calm, to remind, or to give.
Better yet, when you're feeling the itch to buy (or are desperate for the perfect gift) instead, find someone you love and together, don't do a thing.
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welcome to my blog. please write some comment about this article ^_^