The Rediscovery of That Joy in Life

Elderly musicians, loving what they do, simply, getting on that stage, and perform the music for the love of it, translated…

At the time, I’d, lived in the U.S., there was a favorite café of mine, it’s got that country, rustic feel to it in the interior, on every Friday, Saturday evenings, there would be, the live, performances, with the tip jars up front, for the customers to place the tips in.

The violin and electric keyboard played the music, the guitarist, also, sung very high, without holding a thing, back, the duets, and the four-person band worked well together, sometimes, they’d performed the softer love songs, the ballads, sometimes, the beats to the songs are, strong.  With the music the atmosphere came to life, the audiences were enjoying the music very much, the band members also, would, interact with the members of the audience from time to time, we were, having, a blast.

like these folks…photo from online

Close to the end of the show, the lead still kept his, enthusiasm, getting closer to the audience, and, looked very proud, as he’d, begun, showing off, yet another musical instrument he could play, he’d, switched the guitar in his hand out, and pick up his, trumpet, then, puffed up his cheeks, and started, playing the songs, then, he’d, picked up the drums, and beat out the rhythmic, beats, although this was not the main instrument, but it’d still, gotten the crowds, going.  She saw everybody smiling and getting into the music, she’d, started singing and dancing, with every one of us in the audience, applauding her hard.

And, the performer was not a trained singer, but four silvery haired elderly women, due to their shared love of music, they’d, formed a band, and, the attractive thing about them is that thy played impromptu, whatever came to their minds, and, they’re all, very actively enjoying in their, performances, with that, unique attractiveness to the show.  Thinking on it now, I’d still, miss it very much, don’t know if there’s a stage here, to allow the elderly performers, to shine in the, spotlights.

Yeah, that’s not likely, because, in this country, the performers are mostly, younger, and, that’s just how the culture works, I means, surely, those, oldies are loved, and, there were the performances that came every single year, for those, old folk music, but, mostly, it’s the younger singers that take the stages here.  But, this group of elderly women inside that café, found a stage for themselves, to perform on, sharing their love of their music, and passing around the joys they had in performance, infecting their audience.

The Wonders of Read-Along

The love of reading, instilled into the, young, children’s lives…translated…

The most beautiful sight, a child, engaged in what s/he is, reading.  It didn’t matter if the child isn’t even a year old, flipping through a book, and, can’t tell how much of it s/he can, understand.  But so long as the child likes it, I’m certain, that there are, many mothers who hoped that they could, haul the entire library’s collection of children’s books home, with them.

When I was younger, my mother disliked that I read the materials outside of school, reason being, “you can’t even get through your textbooks for school, how can you possibly find the time for leisure reading?”, but, maybe, it’s her banning me from it, we’d become, more and more, attracted to reading the materials away from school.  My older brother used his good grades, and gotten the rewards of book vouchers, and, he got a complete set of the swords fight novels by the famed writer, I too, snuck to read them in the middle of the nights.  Or, maybe, it was due to how I had to, read in the nights, with almost, no light, it’d caused me, to become, too nearsighted.

As I became a mother, I’d, decided, to give my children the best environment to read in, and I’d, started, searching, found those illustrated books I believe that’s best for them to read home, by the sets, and I’d, read a book to my children a day.  And, although the commute took me a whole hour, I’d, continued to bring home the library books from the library close to my workplace.

Recently, my children got into a set of detective stories from the children’s broadcasting programs, the two of them, started, reciting out the contents, they’d, recited out the ads in the radio programs too.  Seeing them like that, I became, overjoyed, immediately bought the volumes home, and, shelved them up.

My four-year-old younger son found them, and became, too excited, chimed to me, “Mom, I’d found XXX on my shelf!”, I’d pretended to be, surprised, “Who gave it to us?”, my younger said, “Don’t know who put it there!”, I’d smiled and said, “Maybe it was, Santa!”

how children are, socialized, at a young, age…from the parent-child read-along…photo from online

Normally, as I’d read the stories to them, I’d, recorded, and, when I needed to, I’d, replayed the tapes in the days to come, and, in the process, I could catch their immediate reactions to my stories, and as I’d played it back to them, they’d found that, funny too.

But, I’d, reread the stories I’d recorded down to them again too, once, my younger wanted to hear a story that’s already been, recorded, his older brother told him, just play it on the tapes, but my younger was, insistent.  And so, I’d asked him, WHO the main character was in the story?  Who was he going to find?  What happened in the plot?  Why did he go there?  My older came over, because of the questions, and answered the questions I’d, posed.

There were, many books that are, no longer fitted to my sons’ age of interest, but I just, can’t bear to, give them away, or to, sell them.  Because, every old illustrated book that’s flipped to, almost, falling, apart, are with, the memories of the, three of, us.

to this…photo from online

So this is how the parent instilled that love of reading in her young by exposing them to the books as they were, infantile, and because these children were, socialized to love books from an early age, that’s why, they are, enjoying reading as a leisure activity now.

My Son Who’d Graduated from Riding on My Shoulders to Running Down the Trails

On socializing a young child to love nature, to love the outdoors, by taking him to hike with you…translated…

Companionship is the best present that parents can give to their, young, but, the advances in technologies can cause the quality time spent, to turn, bad.  I’d encountered the customers from a family in a restaurant many a times: the members of the families had eaten the foods, and, everybody glued their eyes down to their, high-tech devices, like they’re in some sort of a, cult gathering.

After I’d finished half of the hundred mountains as I’d gotten into hiking from many years ago, I’d finally, come across, the major obstacle course of my fellow more experienced predecessors: marriage, starting a family.  There were, the limits to the family life, I can, no longer be like I once had, find my way back, into the mountains to hide out for days, and, it’d, made me feel, blue from time to time.  At this time, I’d seen a photo on a hiker fans site, a foreigner, with his families, walking on the unobstructed trail, with one toddler walking, and another younger infant, swaddled in the father’s backpack.

like this…photo from online

Actually, “life is outdoors”, is the norm of western culture, the parents originally loved the outdoors activities, and, would take their children out on the, adventures, starting them as young as in the, infancy years.  This enlightened me, if I could, combine hiking with, being with my young, that’s, killing two birds with, one stone.  And, even so, as that first time came when I’d, carried my young son on my back to hike (even if I’d used the specialized infant seating), it was when he was, close to, eleven, months, old.

To tell the truth, I was, quite, nervous, other than imagining the assortment of situations that may surface on our hike out, the biggest anxiety was my child’s, reaction.  Would he enjoy it?  Or, might he, hate the experience?  But thankful, as we got into the embrace of the natural forests and mountain, our worries, faded away, quickly enough: my son became really curious, as he’d, looked all around, excited over every little thing he saw!  I would pick up the branches, the twigs for him to play with, taught him to recognize the various species of trees and flowers, hearing the birds, the insects, greeting the fellow hikers on our paths, he looked, very happy, and I, feel joy, because of how happy my son was.

From time to time, I’d, put him down so he could, play on his own, and, in my supervision, allowed him to explore (so long as he didn’t put the scariest things into his mouth).  Sometimes, as he’d tumbled and fallen down, I’d allowed him to get back up on his own, and if he got hurt, I’d, taught him, how to, get away from being injured and hurt again, to help protect himself, after all, we won’t be by his side forever.

In a few month’s time, my son went from an infant, that only used baby talk, to a young child who enjoyed, voicing his, opinions to us.  And the trail continued to, extend forward, the sights slowly, got, pushed forward more and more, we are mostly, just, a breath away from one another, and he would start singing those, nursery rhymes on his own, pointed to something then asked, “what is that?”, “What’s this?”, or, slouching over, hung his head to the side, completely, out, cold.  There are, the unexpected things in the mountains we’d hiked up together, way more interesting for the children to encounter in the malls, the parks, the playgrounds, to satisfy the children’s growing, curiosities.

illustration from UDN.com

And finally at about three years of age, I’d, allowed him to, walk the trials on his own, he’d finally, graduated from my, shoulders then.  Even though, the two of us are no longer, so attached to one another, but, just like how nature worked, we needed to give one another space, like the trees in the forest, needed enough space and the sun to grow up tall and, strong.  Watching how my young son, in my encouragements, started, climbing the roots of the big trees, lowering his body, to find a safe place to put his feet, called out to us as he’d, hiked up, the steeper, steps, I feel so proud of, him.

This connection with the mountain that I’d started for my own son, don’t know how long it’ll, last?  At least for now, as I’d asked, “do you want to hike with daddy this weekend?”, he’d always called back to me loudly, “YES!”

I think, I should, hike more, and walk longer with him, beside, him.

So, this is, instilling that love of nature in your own children when they’re, younger, and, as the habits started setting in, your kids will learn to love and respect nature like you’d taught them to, and, this is a great activity that the whole family can do, instead of, parking your children in front of that iPad or a T.V. and turn on the machines…

The Love of Jazz that Transcends Across Three Generations

The three generations, connected by the, jazz drums here, translated…

My father was a conservative, restrained man, enjoyed a quieter, lifestyle, but he’d, loved the jazz drums in music, back in his college days he’d played it in a band.  As he’d returned to Chiayi to open up his clinic, there was a musical instrument shop, the “Chia-Music Town”, aside from seeing the patients, my father had gone to the store, to beat the drums for fun every now and then, I’d loved tagging along, and, the beats of the drumming, it’d, energized, me so. 

Many years later, my father started formerly taking lessons from Mr. Han-Chang Chuang—he’d told me when he was young, he’d only, beaten the drum to the rhythms, didn’t learn any of the fundamentals, to get the roots of things down, couldn’t read music either, hoped that now that he got the chance, he can, really, take it up, practice the playing skills.  The long holiday before I started interning, he’d taken me along for some lessons, and I’d also, fallen in love with how concentrated the hand-eye coordination was, along with the drums, thumping in my heart.  As I’d returned to Taipei, I’d taken the lessons with Mr. Yi-Shih Lin for a bit, but because I didn’t find enough time to practice, I’d not improved in my playing skills at all, but became, friends with my drumming instructor and his wife.  My father took the lessons for a while, and because of the busyness of his own life, he’d, let that go too.  And yet, his love for drumming wasn’t, diminished one bit, when we’d remodeled our old home, he’d added an extra drumming studio, and put a set of jazz drums in the studio, and he got to shut the doors and the window, go into the studio, then, drum his heart, out.

illustration by the first generation of jazz lovers in the family, courtesy of UDN.com

The kids all inherited the love of rhythmic musical instruments too, and grew up in the learning of the percussion instruments.  My eldest son, when he was young, he’d watched the carnival of the symphony of Chiayi performing to the general public on the streets, when he’d come home, he’d, picked up two semi-ring soft plastic mats that were used to keep my laptop elevated on his waist, and took two Sharpies, and started, drumming like a professional drummer then…….and now he’s in high school, in the busyness of his weekday academic studies, on the weekends, he’d, found his outlet for all the pent up stress through beating the drums with his youth percussion group; my second son broke his left pinky awhile back playing volleyball in school, had to get the casts on for weeks, but, he’d longed to come back to the band rehearsals in the shortest time possible, because they were in the part of his favorites, the sound of jazz drums; while my youngest daughter still in her studies, but would often pick up the items she had close at hand, and started drumming out the jazzy tempos too.

They’d all loved being in my father’s jazz drum studio—even though, for the sake of sound insulation, it’s actually, a tiny, cramped, dark space.  Because what’s inside the studio weren’t just the drums, but also the warmth.  I’d recalled my younger sister’s wedding, my father performed a bit, and, he was like his music, in the disciplined, there’s, that love that flowed very deeply, like how he’d, always shown us how much he loved us, in his own, keeping-to-himself sort of ways.

And so, the jazz drums wasn’t only an outlet for the excessive pent-up emotions, but how the family members interacted with one another, it’s something that they shared an interest in, and this is important, to have something to do with your own loved ones, that way, you will always have something you can, share, to talk about, to have, in common.

An Agent for My Husband’s Saxophone Group After His Retirement

Taking up the hobby, entertaining oneself, as well as, bringing music to others’, ears, and now, someone wants to, manage the group too…translated…

After my husband retired, through his learning to play the saxophone, he’d met a group of people who’d shared his love of music.  They’d often gotten together to play to rehearse, and gone to play for their loved ones, like on the weddings, birthday celebrations, etc., etc., etc.,………after he’d gotten certified as a street performer, he’d started, registering for the performances. 

In July, when he went to the ancient bridge in Guanxi, his registered time was at two in the afternoon, before he’d thought, that the day was too hot, there would not be enough in the audience, and yet, as he and his group arrived, there were, the tourists, cramping up the gazebo, turned out, the tourists were having lunch locally, and learned that there would be the saxophone performances, they’d all come to, enjoy the, music.

After a few songs, the members of the audience asked enthusiastically, where the donation box was?  My husband and his bandmates laughed gleefully, they’d carried the mindset of entertaining themselves, and others too, they’d not prepared the box for the donations.  And yet, the group of tourists still left some money for them, got in a photo op with the band, then, left.

Then, the local residents came for some exercises, there was a ninety-seven-year-old elderly man, who’d, started, singing a song with the music my husband and his band were, playing, he’d told, that he wanted to give them some cash as well.  As the members of the band heard that the elderly was giving the money to them, although it was only a hundred dollars, the joys that they’d felt, was a hundred fold, and they’d stated, that they will, cherish the bill, frame it up.

the members of the band…photo from online

Afterwards, I’d shared this with other friends, and they’d all chimed in, “is your husband and his group in need of an agent?”, I’d sent the video files to my friend in the U.S., she’d also asked, “can I be your, agent?”, and I’d humorously responded, “surely, our overseas tour will be on you then!”, every time I’d gone to the rehearsals, and the performances, I’d named myself, as their, future, agent, and now, guess, I shall, step down, into a photographer, and an, errand girl.

Taking up a musical instrument, practicing every day, giving that melody to our lives, and, when the group played together, it was, like, that afternoon tea with friends, and in the performances, it’s, passing the joys, and the laughter, and, after the performances, we got to interact with each other in the musical group, as well as the members of the, audience, such a, wonderful retirement hobby my husband’s playing the saxophone is.

So, this is on the pursuits of one’s dreams now that you’re, retired, and, it helps you stay active, and you get to, socialize with others who shared your same interests, and bringing joys into others’ lives too.

Dancing Through the Second Half of My Life

That hobby of, ballroom dancing, we’re picking up after retirement here, gotten our exercises in weekly, keeping up with our socialization with others, CHECK!, we are also, keeping our minds sharp, with the memorizations of the moves, the steps, yep, that covers it!  Translated…

First time I’d gone to the weekend social, in the three short hours, I’d had to dance a total of sixty songs, it was, thrilling, to me.

Three years ago, my wife and I retried, and wanted to pick up dancing again, we’d only taken square dancing lessons back in our college days, and after “parking” the dancing skills for more than three whole decades, we’d long forgotten the steps, the moves, and we can, only, follow whatever everybody else was doing around us, and, we’d lost, our confidence completely.

like this…photo from online

But we’d not gotten defeated, signed ourselves up for the community’s dancing group, learned a dance a week, and, before we’d gone to the social, we’d looked up the videos online, taught ourselves, two, to three dances.  At the start of this, it surely, was, quite, trying, we were, mostly, benchwarmers.  But, we’d started off slow, ten, twenty, then a year later, we got on the dancefloor, we were able to do thirty, to forty of the sixty pieces that they played, and met a ton of dancing friends too, and, we’d often gone out for the snacks after the dancing lessons, and it’d made us feel, fulfilled.

Other than working hard to learn on our own parts, I’m also, grateful for many, others.  The square dancing was no longer the it thing, but, there were still those who are passionate about it, as they retired, they’d used the functions held in the various locations, pushing forth square dancing as a hobby after retirement and for exercise, they were willing to help any and everyone who’s interested in dancing.  Like the instructors, Yu, Pan, Bi-Ying, Auro, our partners in crime, and the multitude of interest groups, it’d benefitted us quite a lot.

At first, it was because the school we’d danced at needed the gym for something, we’d halted our original basketball games, and started dancing with another group.  And, as I was riding the elevators, someone greeted me, “hey, you’re here!”; as I walked int, the head of the dance club, Shu-Jiao greeted me, “you must come often.  Come here, sit down next to me, the financial planner of the group, Hsian-Yu sat next to me, told, it’s cheaper for the groups; I’d smiled and responded, fifty dollars a time, that’s, cheap, enough.  For the entire night, I’d had to constantly explain things to those who came to greet me, that it was because I can no longer play ball anymore that’s why I’d switched to dance, I couldn’t make it every time there’s a session.  And, everybody knows, everybody in this circle, and everybody IS, quite, passionate, we’d become, like a, big, family.

and this…photo from online

I’d asked Hong-Wen who’d kept up with dancing for more than ten years to date, what had the instructor been teaching them?  He’d told, that the instructor who came up from Kaohsiung a few weeks back taught the class Rumba, that tonight, instructor Dong-Dong who’d come back from California was teaching the class the Mazurka, the waltzes in three steps, easy to learn.  Instructor Dong-Dong is really gentle in her teaching methods, really worth expecting.

Needing to remember sixty sets of routines in one ballroom dance gathering, that’ll keep my mind sharp all right.  Two, three times we met a week, I got my health covered.  Dancing is so interesting, and helpful, my wife and I decided we’ll keep on, dancing on, for the bottom halves of our lives, until, we can’t, shake it anymore!

So, this hobby you’d picked up after your retirement had multiple functions: it helps you stay up with your exercise routines, staying healthy physically, and you’d had to remember the steps, which keeps your minds sharp, you also get to socialize with others, that’s, three birds (at least!), with one stone there!

The Morning Fun Runs

The memories of us we’re, making, with the goal of, getting you healthier, and it’d allowed us to, have some, quality time together too!  Translated…

A year ago, my daughter’s preschool teacher reminded me, that she’d eaten, very slowly, that she’d often dragged her lunch into her nap, that she’d often feel pressured, and started, melting down……….I’d thought of using exercises, to get her appetite, up and going, and started, our, morning jogs together.

At first, it was only the short five-hundred meters by the riverside, and, yet, all the way through, it was her, screaming loud, “mommy, wait, I can’t run, anymore…………”, and, her cries echoed all around, to both sides of the “shores”, and I’d, had to, pull her along, coaxed her, to her, having the total, meltdowns, to get the run completed.

In the past, I was like that too, a few strides in, I’d felt the aches, and pains, and started, panting like, crazy, and I can only, encourage her, that she will, be able to, run longer and, faster; after two whole weeks’ worth of gritting our teeth down, she’d finally started, learning the “tricks of the trade”, and knew to adjust her own pace of breathing, to steady her feet, and I was, without any, trials then.

From five hundred meters, to, a kilometer, all the way to, four whole kilometers, on the way, we’d bumped into the aunty who’d seen her run by my side, and started, showing her the attention, and I’d gotten the extra benefits of free fruits and vegetables, and she’d gloated, “you should thank me, because had it only been you, you wouldn’t have received, so many, presents!”

on that trail…photo from online

The “Iron Elderly Man” who’d run for a very long, long time, also showered her with the attention, “hey child, you want to be in a marathon with me next?”, after all, jogging it’s easily boring for a young child, to help her get motivated, I’d, allowed her to stop to pet the dogs, and, set the routes to the playgrounds, so she can, play on all the equipment, the swings, the slides, the monkey bars, and filling our run with joys, and, laughter, to help motivate her to continue to run.

This early morning run became a mother-daughter date, with the gentle breezes, the morning sun, the shadows of the trees, the flowers, the grasses, and, all the noises of the flows of traffic, how loud the world’s becoming, that’s not ours to, take in.  We’d taken our times, to look closely at the pretty colored bell flowers, to play with the nuts and fruits we’d picked up from the trees, to get immersed in, nature’s, arms; to get drenched in the, rain of, fallen leaves………….or maybe, it was because it was too early, my head’s still, in that, daze, it’d felt like I was back into my childhood, with that carefree feeling.  Once time, my daughter made a frame with her hand, and, squinted using her left eye, ‘That’s a, perfect, picture!”, it’d touched me a long, long, while what she’d said….so, who is, accompany, whom in, coming of, age?

Looking at how red her face was turning from the run, compared to how pale and frail she’d looked from before, in the careful and tentative care of nature, her problems in eating, gone, and, on the track fields, without a second thought, she was, ahead of the, rest, to the point of, going faster than I had, and that was when it’d hit me, “no matter how huge the obstacle, dividing it by 365, it’d become, manageable, chunks; no matter how tiny the efforts, multiply it by 365, it’d become, enormous!”

Thank you child, for allowing me to continue to grow wiser, accompanying you, in the inhale and exhale, hand-in-hand, we are, making progress.  And, all of these instantaneous moments we come to share, will enrich our lives more than ever.

And so, this is from how you wanted your child to get healthier, and, you’d, helped her established the habit of exercising regularly, and it’d become, the time the two of you get to share, these moments of growth, of wonder, as mother and, daughter.

Dove into the Deep, Yet, Quite Serene Arms of the, Oceans

How in the presence of something so vast, so, boundless, can offer that needed healing to us, how being in something so massive, takes the focus of the self away, and we became, immersed in the beauty that, surrounds, us…translated…

Using diver’s lungs to dive, it’s an underwater activity where you would need to carry your own bottle of air, and other devices too, that allow you to dive down, deeper.  I loved diving, because it gives me the chance to leave everything onshore behind temporarily, I only needed to focus on the breathing in and out, moving my legs to swim around, along with, what surrounded me at the moment.

At the end of autumn last year, I’d bid farewell to my best friend forever.  Without much consoles, my diving partners pulled me along, on the distant and far away diving adventures I’d had from before.  Looking at the glows of the light from the bottom of the oceans, the shimmers of the water reflecting on the light, was more than, satisfying.  And, if there were the schools of fishes that pass, or the sea turtles swimming along, it would feel, even more, amazing.  In the bottom of the oceans, I feel, so tiny, so, miniscule, my thoughts, purified too to simplistic.  And, it gave me a depth of understanding, of how enchanting the oceans are, and how we also need to, be respectful toward it.  What was out, of my, expectations, was that I got acquainted with a group of friends who shared the same hobby of deep sea diving as I.  We dived together, then, barbecued, drank, and sang those songs.

alone, with nothing but our own selves, and, nature…photo from online

I’d originally thought, that my sorrows will take me over that I won’t enjoy this trip, and yet, I’d felt, healed, again.  I’m grateful toward the presence of the oceans, using that deep, serene arms to, embrace me.  That vast, blue ocean turned everything to small, and, no matter how huge the storms of emotions I was under, the oceans made it, reduced by a whole, lot.

So, being in the presence of something so, majestic, it takes away the unimportant feelings of the self, and that’s, just it!  How we are, often troubled, by something so tiny, that we needed that wakeup call by putting our selves into something that’s, larger, something boundless, to remind ourselves, that our problems are, nothing, that we should NOT get trapped by, the unimportant, the miniscule matters of our, measly lives.

With the Vinyl as My Best Company

The music that became her, refuge…translated…

From when I was young, no matter what, schoolwork, household chores, I’d done without the adults telling me to, I’d never made my adult counterparts worried.  Soon as the winter or summer vacations arrived, I couldn’t wait to rush through my assignments in two, three days’ time, then, without a worry or a care, play like crazy for the rest of my time off; same for household chores, I’d found all the things to finish up, then, I’d gone out to play like crazy, that way, I don’t need to worry that I have chores left undone.  Later on, I’d learned, that this mean of handling things is saving the best for last.

As the eldest sister, in my teenage years, although it was hard, part-timing my way through school, but early in the morn on weekends, I’d still insisted on finishing up with the chores at home, before I headed out, to do my own thing.   But, at this age, I’m no longer, just, having fun, but instead, I’d listened to music in the tiny living quarter, with only enough space for a makeshift bed, my room.

like this! Photo from online

I’d turned in my wages to my mother every fifteen days, and she’d left the spare changes to me to use, I’d saved every dollar, then, headed to the shopping mart to buy the vinyl music discs.  At the time, I was into the western trumpet albums, of then, my favorite was “The Tennessee Waltz”, the beautiful melody led me to that filed of my own imaginations, and I was dancing in the green pastures of my mind in my long skirt; on the Mandarin music, I’d started singing the ancient styles of “The Mystery Murder in the Ching Dynasty” and “The Breathtaking Woman, Wang’s Sent Off to Marry Out into the Foreign Lands”, the songs that required the real skills.

The fatigue from my part-time work, found its release as the needle spun around on the player.  Once my mother came to my room, saw me relaxed, lying in bed listening to music, she’d blurted out, “you are so leisurely!”, I’d told her, “finished all the chores already, just taking a short break!”, then, I’d flashed that satisfactory smile, and continued to immerse myself in the music of my vinyl.

And so, you’d found your refuge, that place of meditation, in listening to music, and this is a good hobby to have, because, you can always get the music you want, by tuning in, and, it’s easy these days, with the advancements of iPods, the other electronic devices too!

Those Moments to, Spare

How reading is important, not just, as a leisure activity, but also, a fulfillment of the mind, and the, soul too!  Translated…

After breakfast on Sunday morn, as the rain hadn’t gotten to big yet, I’d taken out the umbrella, slung that huge bag of books that’s about due to the library, thinking, that I could, return the whole lot before the due dates, and pick up the reserved books I’d wanted to borrow for me and the kids to read along.  And, due to where we live, other than the bookstore visits, sometimes I get to be alone on my own, but mostly, I had to, haul along my two young children, around two weeks to a little over a months, I’d gotten to the library as scheduled.  Every time I’d gone there, on the return too, no matter how heavy a load I was carrying I’d always felt light in my, steps.  I’d recalled seeing a young boy, with a large book that’s, half his height, hoppity, hopped to the counter, to check it out, he’d grinned ear to ear, like he’d found, some sort of a, treasure or something.

There wasn’t enough children’s book collection in my hometown library, or maybe it wasn’t, labeled well enough, it was hard for us to find the fitting to the age readers, and, it was like betting with our lucks every time we went to the libraries, whatever my hands landed on, that was the one I took home.  I’d eaten the stories of some books for older people not set for children when I was young.

illustratioin from UDN.com

And think on it, I was, lucky too, without the carefully selecting the readers by the adults for me, it’d, helped broaden my horizon, each and every time I went, tiptoed to get to the books, reading the adult books!  So, this is what adults are, reading……seeing those, words that’s not simplified so children could understand, counting the limits of the number of books I can check out, not wanting to let any of them go, there may be, the imaginations I’d acquired toward the written form of language, and so, what if I couldn’t, understand everything I was, reading?

Although, there are a few bookshops next to the train stations, but they mostly sold the school supplies, the test study guides.  The only bookstore that fitted to be called a “bookstore” to me, was the Kingstone Bookstore that I had to take half an hour bus ride to get to; and, every time I’d stepped into the store, it’d made me feel like I was, getting the high end treatments like I was, the honorary, guest, that sense of joy, enjoyment, and leisure.

There were, the novels on the second floor by that window, with an assortment of novels I’d never seen from the libraries or in my school.  And this was the very first place that took my money, it was a shorter story, about how a group of people went into that state of dormancy for thousands of years, to dodge the changes of time, how they’d, traveled through, time.  Actually I’d, read it cover to cover before I bought it, but don’t know why, I’d thought, that if I could have it in my backpack, and pull it out as I waited for the bus, how wonderful that would be.

As I graduated and grew up, I’d transferred to and from work in different towns, and, certainly, my wish came true, in the commute of almost two hours every day, I’d kept a book close by, to read as I waited, and, for some, I look like I was, trying to, catch up on my reading, but, it was my means of finding that calm, in the coming and going, the rushes from day to day.

To this very day, as I marched into midlife, the libraries had all, evolved, especially after I married, I’d started, living in the urban city, there’s no shortages of books, and yet, because of my earlier memories, no matter how my role altered, or how my lifestyle changed, I’d still gone to the libraries regularly, gone to the bookstores; and, whenever I head out, I always pack a book in my bag, so I can, start back up that feeling of, treasure hunt I had, to find the leisure in my, day to day, living.

And so, this love of reading started young, for this person, she’d always loved reading, and now, she’d kept going in her habits of, packing a book in her purse, so she can have access to something interesting, when she’s out and about, and can, squeeze in, those, tiny moments to, spare…