Tag: books

This Week’s Books

“If you want to identify me, ask me not where I live, or what I like to eat, or how I comb my hair, but ask me what I am living for, in detail, ask me what I think is keeping me from living fully for the thing I want to live for.”
― Thomas Merton

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, everything I’m about to tell you is true.

I guess this is where I should tell you what book I’m reading this week, ‘eh?

Still Here by Ram Dass

That’s the book this week. Guess that’s all for those post…

But seriously…let me get comfy so I can get a good ramble on.

(also, yes these are short sentences, and no nothing artificial helped me write this post – it’s all natural)

Lemme start off with a question: why is reading used as a litmus test for things like being smart, educated, or wise? And maybe I should clarify a bit – reading books, not just reading in general.

A few weeks ago I was in a deep discussion about this very topic, especially how it relates to people who have autism, ADHD, or OCD (as well as others, but these were the main part of the focus). What made me dive in and look around was a passing statement on some website about how autistic persons are not able to learn due to the inability to read. It took me a moment to figure out why anyone in 2025 would put something like that out in public, but these days nothing surprises me.

See, the thing is, there are quite a lot of folks who have difficulty reading – not just ones with specific diagnosis codes. What we all need to remember is that reading is not an innate skill. You don’t just come Earthside with the ability to read the back of every cereal box. Recognizing patterns, yes – dissecting Shakespeare’s sonnet, no.

What is that quote about fish riding bicycles and test scores. I could Google it up, but right now there’s a ramble-flow, which is wonderful to experience in the early hours of the morning. Anyhootie…let me wander around a bit in this topic.

Reading was a huge part of my life, and when I was in my early teens my dream was to live into eternity in order to read all the world’s books. But I didn’t want to be a vampire – just immortal…when you’re 13 that sounds cool. At 54 you realize that even if you started now, and could live forever, it would be impossible to read all the books. But I digress…

After a wild month with some illnesses a few years ago, my feelings about reading shifted. I still love sitting with a book, my big cup of water, and a few cats around – but not as much. I tried audiobooks and reading on some kind of electronic device, but still…meh…reading was kind of – well – boring.

This didn’t mean when I opened a book my noggin said, “Hey, let’s do all these things,” nor did it mean the writing was bad. In fact, some of the best writing I’ve seen in some time is out floating in the world right now. It’s just…honestly this is going to sound kinda odd…but I was getting bored.

Let me pause here to tell you that when those list of “have you read this book” come out, I can check off a significant percentage of the titles. Not saying this to be all “look at me,” it’s just that I’ve loved reading since forever. Now? Not so much.

Also, the type of books I am enjoying now are nothing like what I’ve read before. It’s like my mind wants to know about real people that have done real things in a real world. This is interesting to me as a professional storyteller, because we live in the world of make believe – like come on…talking chickens…absolutely make believe (or is it – a good storyteller never reveals their secrets).

When I mentioned to someone in passing that interest in reading seems to be in a waning period, this funny look came over their face. “What do you mean? You are always reading a book, or referencing some book. Are you okay?” For a hot minute I had to think about it – was I, in fact, okay. Feeling around my head and face, there was no discernible fever or malaise. My thoughts were clear and my sight (with glasses) was good.

“Well, you see, it’s just that sometimes they make me get a little bored.”

As someone who spent like, I don’t know Over 40 years reading a lot of books, now that I’m 54 there’s this desire to be still, create, watch birds…and share my stories. And not the kind of sharing where I tell everyone about myself all of the time, but more like in the way one listens when speaking. It’s one of the tools in a storytellers bag of tricks. In fact, I dare say that to be a top-notch spinner of yarns, you must first master the art of hearing beyond the vibrations of sound.

I’ve enjoyed the tales of yonder, the mysteries of the hidden bijou, and felt my spine tingle with every page turned. Now…well, now I am on a little break. Still reading, but in a new and different way, with tomes that help me listen. And while the Greek chorus of social media might say otherwise (not that I care, but it’s a good little segue as I finish up this post), reading doesn’t make you a better person. It just means you are a person who gathers experiences in other ways. Just be you. Honestly, that’s what’s most important anyway.

With that, I’m signing off for the day. My brain decided to wake up me up at 2:20 am, which means it’s time for me to wander into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

Much love,
~ KEU

* 34 days

Hello, it’s me…

First of all, I’m a delight. Second, I don’t do niche content due to my love of both dillying and dallying. Thirdly, all grammar errors/typos are purely intentional due to the myriad typo faeries living in my laptop. Now that you know this, please carry on reading.

Everything I’m about to tell you is true.

It’s my birthday week. This happens every year in my birthday month – shocking, I know, but that’s just how life is sometimes.

One thing you should know about me is that I am a prayerful person. Not the dry and dusty prayers for the big three (money, love, health), but the kind that get down into the marrow of my being in a way that makes me believe that grace still exists in the world. Sometimes when I’m feeling a bit cheeky, or just want to experience a bit of delight, I’ll pose a question to the Universe that sounds a little like this: “Oh for the love of all things, can we please stop walking in circles?!?!?!” Other times my prayers sound like whining, proclaiming the doom, despair, and agony on me (“if it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all…”). Then there’s the happy medium that is full of gratitude for all that life has share with me.

So, yeah, now you know one of my biggest life secrets — I talk to something greater than any of us can understand. While scholars and spiritual folks duke it out online over what I’m about to say, their squabbles are not mine to monitor. The beauty of being human is seen in the wisdom of Old Turtle that reminds us that we are all loved (hat tip to Douglas Wood). With that…here goes…brace yourself for the wildness of what I’m about to say. Heck, you might want to warm up your gasping breath before reading the next few words.

Everything I’ve ever prayed for, or about, has been answered.

Let me say that again…all the things that I’ve prayed about have been answered. Not before you come at me with all your ideologies, finger pointing, and what not, just hear me out.

Prayer is not something I do to broadcast my thoughts to the world, or to seek favor for my own benefit – it is a way for me to connect with the world around me as a reminder that not everything is about me. It is how I send love into the world/cosmos, find peace with things I cannot change, and hold space for those in pain. Never once have I asked for a new car, or to win the lottery, or for those who don’t like me to look in the mirror. Mostly it is this stream of consciousness that sounds a bit like when children talk to their imaginary friends about tea parties and unicorns.

You see…in my short time on this planet I’ve had experiences that defy understanding. Stuff that took years of my life, and more stuff that required decades of research. Like the main character in The Alchemist, I’ve done just about everything (except for what was in front of me) to get answers to my soul’s questions. When you allow yourself to get all that clutter from your noggin, you see that the answers have been with you all along.

For longer than I’d like to admit, I’ve been one of my harshest critics. Right alongside that, I’ve allowed others to rain on my parade. Yep, you read that correctly, with my permission I willingly gave my power over to folks who took advantage of the places where I was broken. Think of it this way — many of us will choose a familiar negative over a potential positive. It’s kind of like we Stockholm Syndrome ourselves into thinking we are better off being in the mire over trying to find someplace less mucky. Because, you know, there might be bears, or aliens, or mean people in our comment section.

There are folks in my life that love me more than I can even describe here in this space. In fact I’m lucky enough to have a whole family (spouse and kiddos), as well as mentors and friends, that have supported me no matter what. Through every up, down, and all around these humans have reminded me that one does not need to give all their light away in order to be loved.

So, this prayer stuff – lemme get my story wrapped up here so you can go about your day. Lately my prayers have been about healing the parts of me that keep me from fully loving every one and everything (oh, just so you know, my boundary skills have become powerfully strong), as well as how to navigate living with a wee bit of anxiety. While I don’t ever expect answers, they always show up. This week was no exception with the arrival of a quite hilarious, but very spot on, spam email. Not only did it say I was loved, but that the image of the image is more than the image. The words gave me some very sage advice of: “I will show you how to make a picture of you. If you don’t want to go out, you don’t want to go out. If you want to write a book, write a book, or write a book, or write a book. If you want to be a part of the world, you will be able to do it in a new way.”

** side note here: when I say “wee bit,” in reality that means soul-crushing worries fostered by PTSD (which you will learn more about in the future) and 53 years worth of stories trying to break free all at once. Also, thank goodness that my prayers of not wanting to go out were confirmed, as well as whether or not I should be writing/creating. Or, maybe, write a book…

So, yeah, that’s where I am these days. Kinda done with things that weren’t working in the first place, or trying to fit into places that require you to leave your authenticity back at home. Plus, I think maybe it’s time to stop looking outside…and starting listening to what is within.

That’s all I got for today, y’all. Lots of love, big hugs, and know that I see you shining brightly as the Sun.
~ KEU