This is all very stream of conscious stuff, so please don’t judge me too harshly. 🙂
Right from when I could read I always had a book in my hand or my bag. I used to love going to bed at night, not just because I love my bed and everything it stands for, but it meant that I could read to my hearts content.
Mum tried for a while to get me to go to sleep at lights out, but she gave up eventually and figured at least I was doing something productive. It still didn’t stop me reading under the covers with a torch just for the hell of it.
Like most kids I used to order heaps of books from the school book club and I practically lived in the library. Soon though the goods on offer weren’t enough and I started to get Mum to order me more mature books from the mail order catalogs. That’s where Mum and I realized we had a shared interest in books about serial killers and true crime. I was reading books by Robert Ressler and John Douglas when I was 10.
This isn’t to say that I’m special or anything. I’m not really that bright, and I’m certainly no academic. But if I have an interest in a subject, I will read voraciously everything I can find. The invention of the Internet and Wikipedia has been a godsend for me.
Sadly as I’ve grown older, my reading habits have gotten rather stale. It’s not very often these days I sit down and just read. I guess i just got caught up reading text books for school and other things for work, that reading something just for the sheer hell of it fell by the wayside.
Last year I was heavily invested in the Hunger Games trilogy, and it was a real joy to be reading a book at two in the morning and STILL not want to put it down. I’m trying to get back into that habit, even if its just 10 minutes at the end of the day in bed. Typically though, I usually use that time to catch up on Twitter or Facebook. I really have to be more disciplined and put down the iDevices.
I guess my early love of books is also the genesis for my love of bookbinding. I was captivated by the game Myst when it came out, because even though it was on a computer and graphical, it was all about how magical books were. How they could (literally) transport you to new and fantastic places and adventures. When the expanded D’ni universe developed, I gravitated towards the Guild of Bookmakers.
Bookbinding is quite an involved process (to do it right) involving quite a few specialized tools, not to mention the scarcity of said tools and materials these days, which is the main reason why I’ve never actually gotten around to attempting it myself. I figure one day I will get my act together and try it for real.
After that, EVERYONE is getting journals and photo albums for Christmas, Birthdays, Bar Mitzvahs, Christenings and Funerals.
Stupid busy weekends! I’ve putting this one off all week but I did a quick one. It’s a bit late but at least it’s here. Enjoy.
I’ve always loved my bed. Not just for sleeping, it’s a place for dreaming.
As a child I loved the world under my blankets. I would turn on my torch and tuck my head down to read a book after lights out. More than once mum has checked on me and found me deep in some novel at 2am.
Beyond that though, I’ve always loved to the opportunities to day dream in bed. It’s also one of the reasons I love winter so much! Snuggled up with just my ninja eyes showing, imagining I was a captain of a ship out on the ocean, or maybe fighting aliens on some far away planet. Flying over the earth or even under the sea exploring its strange and wonderful depths. Maybe I’m Batman, or what about a robot? What would my insides look like? Anything is possible!
I love getting into a freezing cold bed. None of that electric blanket nonsense for me. No sir! I like to get in, snuggle down and feel the bed warm up from my own body heat. Tucking myself into a ball like a tiny sun.
There is just one thing however. One rule you must always follow; never, and I mean EVER, let your arms or legs stray over the edge of the bed. You DO want to wake up the next morning right?
Some people know this about me, but a lot don’t. From the age of 20 to about 31 I was a pretty hard core Buddhist. I studied and practiced the Tibetan Mahayana style, and even lived in a buddhist community centre in the hills for about 2 years.
At our teaching sessions, our teacher Les would often tell us parables about Lamas and the things they could achieve when they became highly realised; flying through the air, being able to walk under the earth, survive for many years without food etc. These came from his own teacher, an old Tibetan monk who was very learned, special and realised himself.
Along with these, he would present examples from what I guess you would call the ‘real’ world, things that us sceptical westerners can accept as true more than the esoteric stories from the east. One of these came up on a night we were talking about selflessness, i.e. putting other sentient beings above yourself in all matters, and working for their happiness (a theme very strong in the Mahayana system of Bodhisattvas, delaying your own enlightenment until every other being has achieved theirs first).
This story concerned a monk who was walking along a path one day in India and came across a dog who had fallen (or been thrown) into an open sewerage pit and couldn’t get out. The monk, on seeing this immediately threw off his robes and jumped into this pit of stinking, festering shit, grabbed the dog and managed to get it to safety.
Is it a true story? Who knows. No real way to prove it. Could it have happened? Absolutely. It doesn’t really matter if it did or not, it’s an illustration of how we SHOULD act within the world and towards other beings.
It’s a story that has always stuck with me, and I often wonder if I would be that brave (selfless) to do the same thing in that situation or similar. I’d like to think so.