Rereading Books is My Spiritual Practice
Rebellion against the need to make it all count
I’ve likely mentioned it before, but one of my favorite authors is Ilona Andrews. Ilona Andrews is actually a husband/wife writing team which opens up a whole bunch of questions for me, but regardless of their writing process, I love their books. Their books are sassy, family-oriented fantasy/sci-fi with a bit of romance tossed in.
This week I found myself rereading one of their series. I don’t reread very often. It messes up my book tracking system. (More on that in a bit.) But when something new feels like too much there’s nothing like rereading a book. And so, back to Ilona Andrews and the world of magical innkeepers and strange guests and always, always a happy resolution.
A thing I don’t like to talk about very often because it feels a bit self-indulgent is that my jobs are hard. Even then, I immediately want to type out a caveat and talk about all the lovely things about my work, but it’s good practice for me to let that sit. My jobs are hard. Recently I had three different people reflect this back to me, naming in different but similar ways all the things I have been carrying, and, well, after that little trio of acknowledgment I’ve been trying to name the truth of my present reality.
Because when you’re working and doing it and making life go you can forget. Life is what it is. But the truth is in my life, this multi-vocational stuff is challenging. I serve a variety of complex pastoral roles, but then I’m also in charge of other small businesses. I have a home and pets that need tending. My mind is such that I am always thinking ahead and trying to organize this all into something manageable. I am the queen of carrying a heavy mental load whether anyone has asked me to or not. It’s hard to switch between patiently teaching a 6-year-old about middle C, to making the grocery list for the week, to cobbling together a stewardship campaign, to preach a coherent sermon weekly1, to just remember what all the things are and when I’m supposed to do them.
You feel this way, too. I know because I talk to many of you and know the tasks change but the juggling doesn’t.
May I recommend rereading books.
Or, find your equivalent. The goal is to find something that is pointless. Useless. Redundant. But definitely not meaningless. (Interesting how those things are different, no?)
I feel the pressure in my life for everything to be purposeful. There must be a goal or gain. If I have limited hours to work for the church I must make them worthwhile. I better be prioritizing my higher paying hourly jobs. Be cleverer, make do with less, and above all, don’t let people know if it’s hard. In summary, the message I hear is make it count.
However, I cannot figure out how to count rereading books. And for someone who keeps yearly totals of how many books I read (I will only tell you if you ask nicely and promise to not make fun of me), knowing if something counts or not matters deeply to me. To reread forces me beyond that. It might count, it might not. But that’s not the point.2
Rereading romance novels is a spiritual practice for me. It’s a chance to enjoy, without reservation. It makes me think about love and how it is not to be earned through work. It grounds me in what can’t be quantified.
Plus, it’s fun.
What I’m listening to
I keep a pretty solid playlist of music to write/work to and top of that list is Still Life by Haruka Nakamura. It’s solo piano music, but cleverly uses the mute pedal (or some other mute device) to great success. I love playing with the mute pedal and I love hearing the gentle, but messy tones it creates.
What life looks like
Guess who didn’t have bulletins at church this Sunday.
One more thing
Ahead of Mother’s Day, some information and an invitation. 80% of incarcerated women are parents. Across the nation, National Bail Out’s partners and comrades are organizing to #FreeBlackMamas by bringing them safely home to their families on Mother’s Day. Give the gift of freedom to a Black Mama or caregiver who can’t afford their bail: bit.ly/FreeBlackMamas2023
This is my metric for preaching—can the people driving home after church understand or retain literally anything from my sermon or was it gibberish. Basic retention is a win for me.
There’s some kind of pun here…
Upon reading this, I realized that watching (and rewatching) Marvel movies, especially the older ones, is a similar spiritual practice for me. I find them delightful.
It's not re-reading, but I find such peace in rewatching certain favorite TV shows. It gives my brain a break. I am not ashamed to admit I love a little NCIS and Longmire and have rewatched each of them multiple times. I can turn off my brain because I have seen them so many times and yet they still hold my attention. It is not uncommon for one of Gibbs rules to suddenly open up an illustration for a sermon, or for something Walt Longmire says to resonate in my heart. Often I think I need to be doing something "more useful" during these times, but I have found my brain is healthier when I allow this "down time".