This is going to be another short post because it seems I’ve caught a small case of the bipoles*, and I have trouble focusing for long periods. There’s no need to worry—with the help of friends and family, I sought medication to treat the symptoms the same way one would treat flu symptoms.
I wanted to write about the second half of Flannery O’Connor’s short stories, but with thoughts careening through my mind so fast that I have trouble reading, I thought it better to pair this week’s post with Pockets, a children’s book written by Jennifer Armstrong and illustrated by Mary GrandPré.
The trouble with reading right now is comprehension, but the beautiful thing about this book is that I found myself languishing in the soft sounds of words I haven’t heard before. I did read this book three years ago, but I didn’t remember the words, one-by-one, and I loved the way I imagined them sounding, billowing, and bending in the cavern of my mind.
And then there were the illustrations: Seas of color swirling around, all so vivid that I imagined myself getting lost between the grainy hues.
Husband read the book aloud to me, helping me untangle the mystery of the story, but it was exhausting trying to understand, so we set the book aside and went for a walk. The valley was wet with fresh rain and like the illustrations of Pockets, I found myself lost in the grainy hues of this world.
I wish I had a way to connect these thoughts, and bring this post to a neat ending, but I do not. The only thing I can say for certain is that there is a true gift in being able to live in the moment.
Dang these bipoles, ain’t no body got time for that.
*This means I’m rapidly cycling though a bout of mania/depression/anger/sadness. For more information read here.