I’ve emerged from being addicted to the scroll. If you read my recent post about how I quit social media, you’ll know I haven’t actually gone anywhere – it’s just I no longer spend anything longer than a minute scrolling.
And now time is longer. It settles at my side and I can breathe again. And so in those spaces, I’ve fallen back in love with reading.
What happened to reading?!
I got lost somewhere in amongst the business books and the self development books and the conscious and the subconscious books, that the girl who loved curling up into actual stories like Perfume and Memoirs of a Geisha and On The Road and anything by Anais Nin and The Master And Margarita and Chocolat and The White Hotel and all of those books containing basically, a story to spellbind,
well, that girl; had emerged as a business and self development butterfly-
but had lost her love of a good story, somewhere along the way. Of fascination, of transportation, of windows into other worlds.
And I’ve returned to it. I’ve returned to those moments lost in a book where time passes by and you don’t want anything to disturb you. I’ve returned to hiding myself away in little reading nooks –
Last night I sat on my balcony on our outdoor daybed made of wooden crates and woven rainbow rugs made faded by the sun and watched the ending of the day burn the mosquito net golden as it twirled in the still-summer-here breeze. And I read and read and read.
I’ve downloaded Chocolat again on to my kindle app. I’ve been reading chick lit but the best kind, the story kind (ok fine, and some Kinsella)! I’ve been reading the girl on the train and this adorable book
and realised that in and amongst the horror and negativity of the world, the genres that I used to actually look down upon as a self-righteous and booksnobby student I now have nothing but love for. They are comfort food, nourishment for the soul.
Yes escapism, and it’s not like I have a life I want to escape from – for me it’s about escaping into somebody else’s vision, their world, their way of existing and being in a way that’s fun and light and interesting and takes me on incredible journeys that I simply won’t ever be able to travel along otherwise because somebody else’s vision and story will never be our own;
but also as an alternative to the Facebook scroll, so consumed with political negativity and self promotion – these reads make you feel good. And who doesn’t want more of that…
And that’s what stories do.
And so in and amongst the beloved book pages we began our homeschool story, which kind of started last week
but not in any great way because I don’t believe that kids need formal schooling at the ages our girls are now – I’m much more in alignment with the majority of European countries who place children in schools at age 6/7+ rather than the UK / Cyprus guidelines of placing children in aged 4/5 –
For us – creative play to be the most important thing at ages 4/5/6. And actually – for ever.
So far then our homeschool story consists of fire pits and marshmallow toasting, castle visits and building treehouses-
And in and amongst the endless stretches of writing, and creating content for my programs, and with my private coaching clients
And in and amongst maybe the odd scroll through french property websites
That’s where you’ll find me for the time being.
In and amongst the stories, uplifted by the words on the page.