This week I’ve read two books lent to me by the excellent Mandy Taylor. They couldn’t be more different. One was the trashiest novel I’ve read for a long time, each character was introduced by the clothes they were wearing and sweeping statements were made about their prospects in life based on their level of attractiveness. It was a book that made me grateful that there are a whole host of people who don’t judge on appearances and who have depth in this world.
The second book couldn’t be more different. It was a series of essays, reflections and poems based around the Yaak Valley in America (nope, I’d never heard of it either). It was written as part of a movement to save the last few roadless areas in the valley. It was a beautiful book that reminded me that silence, stillness and being around nature are vital things for the soul. It reminded me that life is more than the hours I spend in front of this screen staring at the comings and goings of other people. Strange as it may seem, life can be lived to fullness in a cabin in the middle of no-where.
I ache to go and see mountains and valleys on truly epic scales one day. My soul thirsts for vastness and for the perspective that only looking at something so much bigger and other than me can bring.