Fifty Years of Silence
I’ve been thinking a lot, lately, about reading.
Generally I do it a lot, and don’t think much about it; but as I’m currently writing a book about reading, it’s probably a good thing to have on my mind. And today I interviewed someone for the book, and was amazed to hear a story of growing up with dyslexia, and not discovering the joys of reading until this individual was in her fifties.
Think about that for a moment. Not be able to read for half a century!
It’s just a reminder of all the things we take for granted. Recently there was a memorial service in the virtual world Second Life, for a person who was able to spend the last few years of his life experiencing activities such as sailboat racing without leaving his room – because he couldn’t leave his room.
I complain about my own disability – cluster headaches – and don’t stop to think of how little I really am incapacitated by it. I grew up with books as my best friends, and fell in love with words before I fell in love with any person; the thought of being without them is frightening.
The point? If you read (and I assume you do, since you’re reading my blog!), take a moment to be grateful. Grateful that you do. Grateful that you can.
I know that’s what I’m feeling, today. And that puts us all … beyond the elements of style.
Posted in Frustration, Books, About Writing on March 25th, 2007