I am trying to figure out where to start. I have the feeling that these first entries are going to feel disjointed and unaligned, especially considering my prior content. Time has passed since I uploaded a post. My life has changed immeasurably, and while that is material, this is not the time to discuss it. I am however sure that I want to restart this project.
Why have I not written in over a year? Let’s approach this from a purely emotional or mental health perspective. Mired is the best descriptor I can use. Progress has been deliberate, but slow. My actions feel weighted. I am getting by, but I can only focus on certain things: my wife, my daughter, and our family.
To say I had forgotten about this blog would be a lie. I receive emails constantly reminding me that I have not uploaded or that a broken link needs fixing. Those messages have gone ignored. I could also say that I could not find the time or that life was too busy. This would also be difficult to justify with the amount of time I spent endlessly binging streaming services or scrolling TikToks. I have done very little that would be considered traditionally productive, other than the things necessary to maintain family and household. That needed to change.
I started reading The Uncommon Reader by Alan Bennett last night. Did I purposefully and artfully choose this title due to its plot and relatability? Did I want to examine a satire on the monarchy? Had something suddenly spurred an interest in Bennett? Nope. It was less than 100 pages, and I was feeling particularly unmotivated. I needed dessert, not dinner.
After scarcely reading anything for the past year, the humor caught me by surprise. I forgot how much I could enjoy the medium. I was pleased with the play between duty and pleasure while laughing aloud at the absurdity of the entire scenario. While I cannot relate to a monarch meaningfully, I found myself rooting for her. But I also felt something more meaningful behind the playfulness. What is this incessant urge to catch up? What are we catching up to? More importantly, can we ever? Maybe I am thinking too seriously, and I am not sure there are answers here, but she made me think.
If you are wondering, I did not finish it in a single sitting, and that is on the agenda for tonight. And yes, I find that slightly embarrassing, but I wanted to take my time. I wanted to enjoy The Uncommon Reader and not read it simply to finish. Maybe more answers are waiting.
If you have not noticed, or never visited before, I am going with a new format as we move forward. Reviewing the past posts, they were too formal. I was bored writing them, and what I really want is to have a conversation about books and life. Let’s do that.
If you like what you see here, expect more of the same. Thanks for joining me.