An old book – copyright 1955 – my copy is tattered and torn, but I was pleased when my book club picked this book. I haven’t read it in twenty or more years – and in rereading I discovered that I’m in a place in life where a lot of the beautiful writing is making sense, much more than earlier in my life. (I realize the book could be considered just a lot of #firstworldproblems, no question, but still….even if a problem is a privilege, it is still a problem right?)
Listen to this passage talking about the signs of middle-age that one takes as signs of decline, signs of approaching death: These signs might instead be “angels of annunciation. Angels of annunciation of what? Of a new stage in living when, having shed many of the physical struggles, the worldly ambitions, the material encumbrances of active life, one might be free to fulfill the neglected side of one’s self. One might be free for growth of mind, heart, and talent; free at last for spiritual growth….”
Not saying that describes me ; very much still a rough old oyster shell of lists and tasks and chores and work. But I find that it speaks to me or hints to me of something I hadn’t been able to put into words or thoughts. I’m only halfway through due to savoring the language and images so much; and being interrupted by other stuff. I love when voices of the past speak to me in the present.
She is sharing quiet beautiful thoughts and images about marriage, relationships, life, wholeness — its a timeless book.