September Reads, incluso un libro en español

On October 1, I completed the 50th book of 2020. A handful of those were DNFs (Did Not Finish), but the rest I read in their entirety.

On the Psychology of Meditation | Robert E. Ornstein & Claudio Narranjo (read September 1-12)

Inhale the fragrance of old books.

Our outgoing pastor invited my husband to his office to collect any books that he wanted. What a gift, right? Among many, he brought home this volume about meditation.

It’s an ongoing joke with one of my sisters and my therapist that I hate meditation but should really try it. (I did actually! This month I did a short video on YouTube from beloved Yoga with Adriene.) Often the first step I take when I’m trying to expose my mind to new ideas is to read about it. I want to know the experiences and science related to a new idea. Meditation was no exception.

This book was divided into two parts: “Meditation: Its Spirit and Techniques” and “The Techniques of Meditation and Their Implications for Modern Psychology.” The first half discusses the role of meditation in the major world religions (yes, even Christianity).

I would say the big concept I got from this book was that meditation is a process of letting go:

The practice in “letting go” that [the negative way] entails, in the sense of “surrendering to” or “allowing,” cannot be completely divorced from a letting go in another sense, which is the essence of the negative way: letting go of habits, preconceptions, and expectations; letting go of habits, preconceptions, and expectations; letting go of control and of the filtering mechanisms of ego.

page 75, emphasis mine

Earlier this year I read Welcoming the Unwelcome by Pema Chodron, and The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer, and I’d say this book formed a nice trio with those as background and guidance on letting go and living in the moment.

Jack Glass | Adam Roberts (read September 12-23)

Checking out books from the library has become like Christmas morning. You stop by and pick up your books in a paper bag –
it’s a gift every time.
(Note: Tidelands on the docket for October).

I read this book as part of a book club read for award-winning sci-fi and and fantasy. I will say, I’m not a science fiction fan generally. I do love the cover of this book, and strangely that is one thing that kept me motivated while reading. I was also very intrigued by the characters, particularly Jack Glass and Diana, and the story was so readable and frankly, enjoyable. The world building was solid but not overly extensive, and by the end I found myself actually siding with the murderer-main-character (not a spoiler). I read this both in hardback from the library and partially on Kindle. There was a good basis of philosophy sprinkled throughout the book, namely:

“The best analgesic for mental discomfort is work, of course.”

38% of the way through

This resonated with me because not only do I believe it to be true, but I think that might be one reason Americans are kind of known for being workaholics. When you look at the current state of affairs in the US, COVID-19 and social unrest has taken the giant Band-aid off of our collective “mental discomfort” and exposed the fact that we have a giant rug under which we sweep everything.

But taking a total view, death is the bell curve upon which the cosmos is balanced. Without it, nothing would work, everything would collapse, clogged and stagnant. Death is flow. It is the necessary lubrication of universal motion.

82% of the way through

This is also true. If there’s nothing else that all humankind participates in, it’s death. We all die; there’s no way around it. I found this quotation to be very comforting, as I started this book only a couple of week after my Nana passed away, and a couple weeks before RBG died. We need death, whether we want to or not. A very Stoic thing to bear in mind, for sure.

De qué hablo cuando hablo de correr | Haruki Murakami (leído el 24 de septiembre al primer de octubre)

A little rejected slice of the Seattle Public Library

Les hablo de este libro en español. Una de mis hermanas me mandó este libro hace meses, tal vez años. Es una traducción del japonés, y el estilo es muy conversacional. Me alegría de eso porque no he leído un libro espanol hace muchos años, y honestamente, no me apetecen muchos los libros españoles aunque tengo muchos estudios en español y su literatura.

Me gusto este libro porque se trata de ambos correr y escribir, dos activitidades que a mí me encantan. Me di cuenta que si, quiero ser autora, y ya soy autora. La verdad es que he sido autora a través de la vida mía.

Me gusta mucho leer de la vida de una persona que se convertió en escritor mas tarde en su vida, en los 30s. Trataba de leer este libro para disfrutarlo, no como un gran estudio del idioma español. No obstante, aprendí algunas frases y vocabulario nuevo.

Me dio satisfacción y ánimo para perseguir leer otros libros españoles.

We are who we’ve always been

I have read a lot of good books lately – twenty so far in 2020. I recently finished The Throne of Glass series by Sarah J. Maas and I can say that I had a book hangover for a good couple days. I also read another fantasy book, The Forgotten Beasts of Eld by Patricia McKillip, for a book club. (Check out the cover – beautiful artwork!) Yes, I am part of a book club where non-nonfiction books are read by yours truly. I’ve been channeling my energy throughout this past month of isolation into all the things I pursued pre-adolescence… reading, sewing, crafting, cooking – all the things that bring my joy and comfort and are simply me.

Welcoming the Unwelcome by Pema Chodron caught my eye at the library. You know, the day I went and loaded up on books before it closed for an undetermined amount of time. But I saw the title in the “new nonfiction” section and thought, Hmm, welcoming the unwelcome… sounds like my life. Let’s get that one too.

It’s a gem. I’m almost halfway through and it seems every sentence is quotable. But here is one of my favorites:

The wonderful irony about the spiritual journey is that we find it only leads us to become just as we are. The exalted state of enlightenment is nothing more than fully knowing ourselves and our world just as we are.

Pema Chodron, Welcoming the Unwelcome

This has been so true for me. The longer I delve deep into the core of my soul, the more I see myself, actually. The unencumbered 4-year-old Elizabeth is there. The 12-year-old Elizabeth beginning to become unsure about her new body is there. The 30-year-old Elizabeth devastated by infertility is there. And the soon-to-be 34-year-old Elizabeth is there. And she’s the same and different all at the same time.

I think this phenomenon is something I also see in the protagonists of these books I’ve been reading, nay, devouring. Searching for something new but seeing themselves as a result. Having gone through some crazy messed up shit, but ending up seeing the same face and soul in the mirror, just changed, a new version of themselves.

I hope that when we come out of this “new normal”, we can all find the same soul in the mirror – farther along in our spiritual journeys.