I like to read. A lot. If I’m not doing anything else, I like to be reading. In fact, I like to be reading WHILE I’m dong something else. It started out as a way to hide and then moved into a way to pass the time. Then it became an addiction. Why? Because I got ideas!
I was late to the whole ‘reading for pleasure’ game. I didn’t do it as a kid. I always felt like there was so much more ‘productive’ things I needed to be doing. That, and well–not to boast–but as a kid, I had a rockin’ imagination! I mean, my imagination is kick-ass now, but it is no where near the free-flowing uninhibited crazy world of my childhood…like not even 10% of it!
I got smart. Well, people told me I was smart. Like, ‘book smart’–whatever that term means. On a subconscious level, I said ‘peace out’ to my imagination for awhile because, while it was giving me IMMENSE personal pleasure and fulfillment, it was not getting me any positive attention. In fact, the only real attention it got me was being called weird by my brothers (not faulting them AT ALL here) when I always wanted to play alone in my room or wanted to wander off on my own on the farm and rarely accepted their invitations to play with them. (In hindsight, I can now see that they probably felt that I was leaving THEM out. But, as a kid, I couldn’t see that.)
So, getting positive attention for getting all A’s and having just about every subject come easy for me led me to rely heavily on that aspect of myself we so often like to call ‘the left-brain self.’
By the time I figured out about the whole left-brain/right-brain concept, I had severely mal-nourished my right-side and over-fed and heavily trained my left-side. So, upon hearing this concept, I naturally and immediately identified myself as a left-brainer.
But, I have recently in the past several months begun to discover that I have perhaps severely misdiagnosed myself. And, in all self-honesty, I truly believe that is the source of a lot of my psychological/mental/creative strife.
I’m smart. I have a powerful brain. I pat myself on the back for unknowingly training my weaker side. I feel like someone who was born right-handed but unknowingly trained herself to write left-handed.
But, I feel like my soul is–and has always been–crying out for MORE. And by ‘more’ I finally realize that it wants acknowledgment for its true nature. Not that I am ungrateful for the blessings living as an extreme left-brainer has afforded me. Heck, it got me pretty much to, well, NOW! But, the path I’ve chosen (both consciously and unconsciously/subconsciously) is requiring more. Not just more nourishment/attention to my right brain. Rather, a more harmonious use of my entire brain–heck, my entire SELF!
I mean, isn’t that my reasoning for doing a lot of whatever it is I do? From the yoga, to the CrossFit, to reading, to switching jobs on a dime, to being an actress, to finally embracing a writer within (huh, what?! did I just say that?!?!), to all the other self-aware discoveries I have and will make…and being OPEN to them.
So, I was never a for-pleasure reader because as a kid I saw reading as a task that you performed in order to get a certain outcome. It was a form of problem-solving for my problem-solving programmed brain. Thus, if there was no problem, then there was no reason to read and find a solution (or the ‘answers.’)
Then reading did become a problem-solving tool: it solved my problem of boredom and social awkwardness. Yup, that is the only reason I ever began to read anything not assigned in a class.
But something wonderful and magical happened–I fell in love with ideas! I didn’t know I had. But, reading was the catalyst to my now raging love affair!
…which has spawned an offspring–ideas! My little babies! I love the ones born of my love with reading. I love to write them down–only for myself…like little love letters between me and the ideas of the authors I read! 😉
The WORST, though, is when I cannot immediately write down a fascinating idea (most often because I am read-walking, which I do whenever I walk further than 1 block.) I used to get really upset and hurt at these times because the exact idea at THAT INSTANT rarely comes back exactly as it did in that moment.
But, I found a remedy for my despair. Whenever I have an ‘a-ha’ moment or an instant ‘brilliant’ idea and no means of documenting it, I simply acknowledge it and speak kindly to it saying, “Thank you for your presence, brilliant idea. Please return to me in your beauty and magnificence if you intend to use me as your vessel.”
I guess, the last part of this statement sort of ties me to that crazy idea I had once of being a writer…or something bigger…