I typically read a number of books at one time. I pick the one up that I'm in the mood for. Or I have an intuitive sense that there is something in a particular book that I need to know in that moment. Books of poetry lie around my apartment (aka The Hermitage) as well for easy access. There are stacks of books on most every surface. On average I have about 10 books in progress at one time. Some of the books remain 'books in progress' for years. Some books are not meant to ever be finished. Zhuangzi (below) is one of those books. I never read the last page first of any book nor do I generally start at the beginning.
Generally, I am not reading stories or texts with a strong narrative running throughout. I save that for audiobooks. Mostly I'm reading for spiritual learning, guidance and growth. I'm always learning so that I can teach whatever I have gleamed. I collect words in order to give them away.
I examine words as if I'd found them as a shell washed up on the beach. Sometimes the words are faded and worn and precious because they've seen some rough weather. Sometimes they are pristine and beautiful and I wonder how they came to be together in such a brilliant sentence! Sometimes the words are salve for a wound that needs to be tended. Sometimes the words inspire to action. Sometimes the words fade from my mind as water goes through a sieve and I know that those words were not meant for me, now.
There are many small scraps of paper around The Hermitage that have little notes on them.... words that catch my attention and I want to cling to them... or prepare to pass them along as life offers open spaces where a few helpful words could fit in.
Sometimes the words are clarifying; clarifying things that I did not know were unclear. Sometimes the words open up new windows on to vistas never before seen. Sometimes the words give my mind something else to think about but mostly I just appreciate the beauty of words. Some carry a lot of weight; like the word Demand. Some weigh little but call us to a higher place; like the word Light. I swim in a sea of words and play there every day.
I read what I don't understand because it forces growth and the expansion of my mind. Reading only what is clear and understandable (and agreeable!) is boring and does not inspire me to anything. I encourage you to read what you do not understand, yet.
Here are three of the books I'm playing with at the moment:
1. The Seeds of Contemplation, Thomas Merton (1962, reprinted 2007)
The seeds that are planted in my liberty at every moment, by God's will, are the seeds of my own identity, my own reality, my own happiness, my own sanctity.
To refuse them is to refuse everything; it is the refusal of my own existence and being: of my identity, my very self.
Not to accept and love and do God's will is to refuse the fullness of my existence.
If I never become what I am meant to be, but always remain what I am not I shall spend eternity contradicting myself by being at once something and nothing, a life that wants to live and is dead, a death that wants to be dead and cannot quite achieve its own death because it has to exist. (p. 33)
2. A Year with Martin Buber: Wisdom on the Weekly Torah Portion, Rabbi Dennis S. Ross (2021)
Note: Rabbi Ross is my colleague in the Interim Ministry Network. I have great respect for him and just received a copy of his book.
That tender surface of personal life which longs for contact with other life is progressively deadened or desensitized. (Buber)
Buber teaches that companionship is the foundation of meaningful living through a novel interpretation of the classic Garden of Eden story. He recalls Rabbi Simha Bunam of Pzhysha being asked about the serpent's punishment, which at first glance might appear to be more of a reward than a curse. After all, "dirt shall you eat all the days of your life" (Gen. 3:15) means that food is always there, worry free, leaving the serpent entirely self-sufficient, without having to work for anything. Yet Rabbi Simha replies that having all you need is more of a curse than a blessing. It means never having to rely on God - or anyone else. On the contrary, he wants us to need each other, and to know that we need each other, in relationship. (p. 52)
3. Zhuangzi: The Essential Writings, translated by Brook Ziporyn (2009)
Note: Zhuangzi is pronounced: Jon-zee; Zhuang Zhou aka Master Zhuang, ca. 369-286 BCE
Ruo of the Northern Sea said, "That cows and horses have four legs is the Heavenly. The bridle around the horse's head and the ring through the cow's nose are the Human. Hence, it is said, 'Do not use the Human to destroy the Heavenly, do not use the purposive to destroy the fated, do not sacrifice what you have attained (from Heaven) for the sake of mere names.' Hold onto this carefully, for then you can return to what is genuine in you." (p. 73)
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