Tag: Living Delight

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I’m a Secret Librarian

True confession. I’m a book nerd. 

Reading is one of the great pleasures of my life. As long as I remember, I’ve devoured books. My home is filled with artistic book piles in most rooms. Set there to lure me onto the couch in order to gain a little knowledge or get lost in an imaginative adventure. 

I’ll trade sleep for a good book and often am running late to an event because “I’m at a good part.”

I never hop on a plane without two books. One to study and one to invite me into a new world. I overpack books on vacations so that I can choose the read of the day from my traveling library. For practicality’s sake, I tried, against my better judgment, to train myself to use a Nook but I missed the paper and ink too much. 

It’s no wonder I view book stores as my playground.   

Some of my best writing and creative projects have occurred in the cafe at my local Barnes and Noble. It’s as if I enter a zone or portal of creativity whenever I settle in to write there. I can work for hours, almost unaware of others around me, only to surface for an enjoyable break perusing the shelves. It doesn’t matter what department I enter, I find the perfect books and read a few pages. It’s a habit, I guess. Gathering a pile of books to “look at” and heading down a rabbit hole while sitting on the floor, engrossed by someone’s research or creative expression of genius.

I think this is where my career as a secret librarian began. In Barnes and Noble.

While my eyes scan the book shelf, I inadvertently notice authors out of alphabetical order or a disorganized display (gasp). Perhaps the books are left haphazardly laying upon the rows, even from other sections, as if someone dropped them there without regard. This desire to neaten and place books where they belong also arises in the public library, but doesn’t seem to cross over to other areas of my life.

I think it’s a love affair with the written word that has me working incognito. 

If I followed my bliss and spent more time at Barnes and Noble, their shelves would probably be in really great shape. It seems like a perfect volunteer position when I decide to retire. The only downside is that I’d probably discover something else to study and head back to work.

I decided to officially become a librarian when I found the perfect little free library in a nearby town.

 

I’ve seen those cute little bird house libraries and even toyed with putting one in front of my home.

That didn’t make much sense as I live on a quiet street where everyone can easily access books of their choosing. Or pop in their lovely vehicles to head to the public library or favorite bookstore. Anyway, I’m not so good with building birdhouses, even if they’re going to be filled with books.

Imagine my surprise when I noticed a little library appear at the playing fields where I sometimes walked.

People head there to walk their pets or themselves. Kids, teens, and adults use the field for personal training. Mostly it’s empty when we venture there for a nature stroll, but sometimes it is filled with the enthusiastic hustle and bustle of kids or teens practicing their favorite sport.

A summer evening may fill the place with kids practicing football, lacrosse, soccer, or cheerleading.

Game days bring the parents, siblings, and grandparents who overflow beyond the small bleachers to lawn chairs. It’s fun to watch and brings back memories of the thrill of little league games and working in the snack bar.

So, I’m already primed for enjoyment walking by that tiny free library. It draws me in.

I saw a bunch of old adult books. The kind you clean out after 20 years of sitting in your study. They sat there for weeks. Nothing coming in and nothing coming out. Plus they weren’t displayed well. Just sayin’. With all these hundreds of kids and teens running around, some old Tom Clancy books weren’t fitting the bill. So, I tried an experiment. I found some young adult fiction I had read in pristine shape.

A week later, the books were missing. Tom Clancy remained.

When I read fiction, which is the only book I’ll pass on, you’d never know it was read. I take off the cover and use a book mark. It’s a book nerd thing. I started to experiment. Dropping off a trilogy with really fat books looking brand new. They disappeared. I rustled through the books my kid never read. Hardbacks. Fiction. Biographies of brave girls. All gone.

I only drop books when no one is around. Hence the secret part of my librarian title.

And I send each book with a wealth of wishes. I talk to the book(s) as I head over to the tiny house. “I hope you find the perfect home and inspire someone to know how creative they are. I hope you help someone discover a love of reading .. create new authors .. encourage innovation .. alleviate loneliness .. open minds. I hope you travel well and enjoy your adventure.”

Of course I cleaned up that dusty box so whomever it serves has a lovely library that respects the books and their readers.  

Not everyone supports the idea of free little libraries. 

Some dissenters feel they take away from services offered by the free public library system. Or are a harbinger of attempts to gentrify urban neighborhoods. Two librarians from Canada described these cute little birdhouse free libraries as “a highly visible form of self-gratification cleverly disguised as book aid.”  Most supported the idea of these as a resource or an enjoyable hobby or just another way to share a love of creative projects, good reads, and generosity.

I guess since I just outed my secret about tending to a little free library in a diverse neighborhood, I’m now engaged in a highly visible project of self-gratification. 

Yup. I’m unapologetic. I love books. I love little cute libraries. I love being a secret librarian. And I love my public library. 

I’ll skip the cute tiny libraries in affluent neighborhoods and stick to the two I’ve found that serve a more diverse economic population. I’ve got no regrets, even as I acknowledge my flagrant self-gratification as a book nerd do gooder. Imagining children, teens, or adults grabbing a good book warms my little librarian heart.

In the end, I don’t really care who takes my books, if they are returned, or where they travel. 

I just trust they will land in the perfect hands to be read at the perfect time. As long as they disappear and I’ve got (good) books to share, I’m hired. I’ll let you decide where you land in this (mild) controversy about cute mini houses with free books. Read all about it here.     

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

Excess screen time for teens has detrimental effects. I bet you know that already. Especially with US teens averaging 7-8 hours/day. Ouch. University of Queensland researchers conducted a global study which found some benefits for teen screen time. In the first hour. Detrimental effects snuck in after 75 minutes for girls and 105 minutes for boys. Things like poor diet, obesity, depression, and decreased cognitive and physical abilities. The best combo? An hour of physical activity and no more than 2 hours screen time contributed to teens wellbeing. I bet those kids at the playing field who snag a good book are headed into the wellbeing category. For book nerds like me? Put down the book, get off that couch, and go take a walk!

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Lessons from a Blimp.

Many years ago, I was invited to take a ride in the Blockbuster blimp for my birthday. 

Yup.  That many years ago.  When renting video tapes was a thing. Arriving at a small airport in Northeast Philadelphia, I was startled by the size of the huge bullet-shaped “balloon.” Six strong men struggled to hold the blimp steady via long ropes. My friend yelled out, “This is going to be a hell of a ride!”

I saw an inconceivably small oval cockpit hanging beneath this floating behemoth.

I decided the butterflies in my stomach were from excitement as we squeezed into our seats.  Since it was my birthday, I had the front seat next to the pilot.  Lucky me. In a flash, those strong men were waving as our little engine chugged us forward.  It was surreal.

I thought of the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang movie while watching neighborhoods glide beneath us.

My husband’s seatbelt wasn’t secure and our gracious host in the miniature back seat wasn’t much help.  “No worries” said the pilot as he reached back to adjust the belt.  No worries?  The nose of the blimp moved rapidly toward the ground, giving me a full appreciation for the term, “nosedive.” 

Those butterflies weren’t only in my stomach anymore.

The pilot turned back and casually righted the blimp.  “See, nothing to worry about.”  Funny guy.  I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Immediately that familiar sensation of nausea came over me.  It never crossed my mind that a lifetime of motion sickness within all moving vehicles might extend to a blimp ride. I immediately got into management mode as I relaxed my body, set my gaze forward, and began breathing deeply.  Placing myself in an aware trance state, I focused the delight of flying.

“Kathy! Take a look. Your husband is turning green.”

Apparently we shared an affinity for blimp sickness.  Well, that man was on his own.  The pilot suggested they open a window. In a blimp? Good grief.  The backseat duo couldn’t get the damned window open, so the pilot reached back and battled with the sticky window. 

Another nosedive while moving through rough wind currents.

Happy birthday to me. I quietly scanned for an airsick bag.  Nothing.  As fresh air blew through our tiny capsule, I made a quick decision. I was gonna totally enjoy this novel experience. I decided my butterflies found it thrilling. After all, how often do you float over neighborhoods, rivers, and highways? I even snapped a photo of Philadelphia before we were turned away from the restricted city air space.

I gratefully realized I was halfway through my birthday adventure without losing my cookies.

My celebration was interrupted when the pilot asked if we were interested in heading to Willow Grove to see if we could fly in the air show.  Since I didn’t think I’d be flying fighter jets in the future, might as well try to show up in a blimp.  When else would I get a chance to be in an air show? 

Choosing to focus on the wonder of this otherworldly journey helped manage my discomfort.

I was hanging on by a thread when we got the message to “stay put” in case we could fit in the lineup. We’d been in the friendly skies nearing two hours and still had to make it back.  By the way, the back seat was doing just fine with their breezy window.  Enjoying some history and a tour of the grand estates in a ritzy area of town.

I’d love to tell you that we were the star of the show, but the Blockbuster Airship didn’t make the cut. 

All that extra travel for nothing!  Or was it? Reflecting on this gift of flight, I’m grateful I hadn’t recalled my motion sickness before we arrived. Or knew what a long, uncomfortable experience I’d have. I’m certainly glad I didn’t know anything about hanging in a mini cocoon under a gas filled balloon. Nor about nosedives and open windows.

All that knowledge would have definitely led me to worry and hesitation.

Which would have been an absolute waste of time and disrupted my birthday excitement. I learned motion sickness exists in the air and on the ground. And so does delight. As above, so below.  It all depends what you chose to focus upon.  Truth be told, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

In hindsight, the blimp was a walk in the park compared to the time I jumped out of an airplane. 

But, that’s another story entirely.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

Your attitude toward stress is important.  One study showed that interpreting anxiety as feelings of excitement may actually help your mood and performance. Even more than trying to calm down.  You can adopt a mind set which focuses on the positive outcomes of stressful experiences so that feeling stressed is less of a barrier. Performance research suggests you need just enough stress to get brain chemicals to give you some juice, but not so much that you feel overwhelmed or can’t think straight.

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Lost in the Woods

 

I’ve recently awakened the desire to go hiking and spend more time exploring the trails in New Jersey and other locations. 

So, my husband downloaded a new app with a wide selection of hiking trails in our area and chose our first 5 mile hike. It was rated “moderate” hiking difficulty which was good for me. I enjoy our walks in nature tremendously, but I was hankering for a little elevation and variation. Since a weekend hike in Rocky Mountain National Park was out, we popped in the car to celebrate Labor Day with an enjoyable walk in the woods. 

I love to explore new places by wandering around without a plan, discovering what is around me. My husband, on the other hand, is a map kind of guy. Or in this case, an app kind of guy.

We arrived at a tiny gravel lot, grabbed our bottles of water, and headed down the deserted path. How could we go wrong? There were white painted trail markers on the trees and we enjoyed being in the shaded woods as a respite from a sunny day with temperatures in the 90s.

It was a delight to be immersed within hundreds of trees with a hint of the stream’s gurgle beyond the ferns. The blue sky and white clouds peeked through the trees as if to check on our progress, yet the rays of the sun were only lightly visible. 

We strolled along as if we were the only people in the world on this path.

Apparently we were, as we didn’t see nor hear anyone for over an hour. There was a peace that descended when we were immersed within the natural sights and sounds of the forest. Even my husband relaxed his noticing of the changing color trail markers and we enjoyed quiet conversation interspersed with long periods of silence. The sight of massive roots of a fallen tree, minnows swimming by the edge of the stream, or a surprising tree of burning orange leaves was good for the soul.

Faced with a fork in the road, we simply went left as the absence of trail markers left us to our own devices.

We spied two deer leaping across the path ahead and disappearing into the dense brush.  It was a delight and we decided it was clearly a sign we were headed in the right direction. This was our first indication that perhaps we weren’t reading the signs correctly – trail signs or nature signs – as we ended up stuck in a field of prickly grasses with nowhere to go. So, we turned around. At the next fork, we got serious about looking for trail signs.

How hard could it be? After all, we were walking on a 5 mile loop. A loop is a circle, or so I thought.

Back on the path, we continued our leisurely hike as my husband called out, “Here comes your elevation! All 124 feet!” Peering around him, I saw a tiny hump in the path. Okay, so we weren’t in the Rocky Mountains. We stopped on a bridge and looked for fish while the trees protected us from the driving sun above. Relaxed and at peace, I was content in our meandering. And then we hit another split in the trail and absence of trail markers. This was beginning to become a theme. 

I didn’t object when he pulled out his app with the GPS. Good news: we were halfway through the loop. I felt a deep love for that stinkin’ app.

I was aware that while I wasn’t tired, I was pretty darn hot. The benches that appeared did not seem appealing for a rest stop. They looked like they had been carved in the 1800s and were covered with elaborate webs. Truth be told, I noticed I was a wee bit wilted on my first hike through this hilly terrain (yes, there were very tiny hills now). And then I saw it: a thin tree had fallen across the path. Unlike the others we had climbed over which had moderate to large trunks, this was a slender tree. The remarkable thing was that it was still growing. Its trunk was bent and the leaves were fluttering in the wind.

I felt an affinity for that little tree who just laid down and took a nap, right in the middle of the path.

 

Soon after this wonderful sight and a few more tiny inclines and declines, we came to another fork in the road. It was confusing, so we got out my favorite app. Turns out it was no help at all and the GPS, which had given us such hope, was suddenly suspect. We were back at a previous choice point and had to either go in an unknown direction which logically took us away from our car or backtrack via a path which meant we had miles to go before we could rest.

As we headed back from whence we came, I was no longer a fan of meandering nor of that silly app. I was also aware that the trail markers, which were absent at the choice point, were now abundantly clear – as if some ranger had gotten paint happy.

“We aren’t out of the woods yet!”  Who knew my husband had such a sense of humor?

Hot as all get out, I took stock and began rationing my water.  Very soon, I realized that getting lost in the woods was detrimental to the annoyed or anxious mind. The surrounding landscape was as calming when we were lost as it had been when we were all gung ho and full of vigor. As we walked, my husband and I began to notice places we had seen before and it became a game of sorts. We even ran across another couple which gave us hope that we would rediscover civilization. Back into our confident meandering, we didn’t feel the need to ask how to get out of the woods. We figured we were on the correct path.

How many detours could there be on a loop anyway? [Two more, but who’s counting?]

Spoiler alert: we made it out of the woods and returned to civilization. None the worse for the wear, we were so busy pulling the sticky leaves from our shoes and clothing that we almost missed the sudden appearance of that other couple. They were calmly strolling up the paved road beyond the gate. Apparently, that “unknown direction” not only led back to the parking lot, but did so in an easy and timely fashion. 

When my husband mentioned that the app had an upgraded version for $2.99/month with more trail details and an improved GPS function, I handed him 3 bucks and told him he was in charge of next week’s location.

And then I took a mini nap on the way home – just like my favorite tree.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

The Japanese Society of Forest Medicine researches the therapeutic benefits of forests on human health and wellbeing. Forest bathing involves walking slowly, mindfully as you open the senses, notice your response, and enjoy the ecosystem.  Statistics indicate that the average American spends 93 percent of the time indoors and about ten hours a day on social media. That can’t be good for your health. Forest bathing research revealed benefits such as strengthening the immune system, reducing stress, anxiety, and depression, boosting overall sense of well being, and improving cardiovascular and metabolic health.