I realized this morning both the antique books I purchased in Iowa over Thanksgiving weekend were given as Christmas gifts nearly 100 years ago. One's actually inscribed with 'xmas 1914.' (I wonder if back then folks argued about the whole Xmas vs.Christmas thing?)I now wonder if I was drawn to these two books partially because of their former owners' energy? Although I've a multitude of books, I've never bought antique books until this day.
Was I drawn to their titles, "Rose Leaves" and "The Daily Altar" or an unspoken recipe of care that went into the making of these books, the writing and production.
We are writing a book today, a book of The Times made of books from our individual lives.
Although I want to go about the putting together of my life through listening and quiet care, I can be easily caught up in excitement and compulsion leading to exhaustion. Even this week I've glimpsed this pattern as stories, experiences and little epiphanies while in the Midwest tried to find form simultaneously through my pen in hand. In the past when this happens I feel more like a story machine, turning out stories without true presence. I sense the energetic, driven-ness prone to imbalance and unawareness that's fueled the machine now driving corporate greed and the many disconnects between inner and outer, head and heart, self and other, self and Nature.
These two books remind me to listen and go slow. Important keys to my soul seem hidden in things the world labels as old.
We are all contributing to the Book of Life. If for a moment you listen, to what are you really drawn? How might you title the chapter you're writing today?
-Dawn, The Good News Muse 1 December 2011
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