Yes, exactly:

She saw herself as “an emotional volcano within, with the outward reverberation of a mouse and the physical significance of a chip of lead pencil.”

Alice James – A Biography
Jean Strouse



In these post-work-in-an-office-and-leading-a-life-without-meaning-times, I am trying to calm myself down. I have given myself a couple of weeks of vacation, because I so easily get over excited and nervous when I start to ask to much of myself to quickly. There are things that needs to be taken care of (the kitchen bench needs to be oiled, the apartment needs a serious dust-down, my papers are not in order), but the last couple of years have been so full of stress that I need to wind down first.

In the morning, I sit down with my tea and my breakfast and I read. I love to read, because it’s like meditating, and it lets you breathe softly and regularly. Reading, to me, is entering into a state of perfect peace (I wanted to say bliss, but I can’t stand that word, it has too many new age connotations).

Sitting there reading, I reflect upon what is being asked of us in modern life. All this running around, gathering of gold and buying things. All the pressure, all the noise, all the time being asked to “get in line” and do as you are told. It’s not for everyone.

I feel slightly ashamed of wishing that I could spend my life in a house by the sea with my books, and just keep learning and gathering knowledge until I die, but then I remember that I’m not alone in yearning for this perfect state of being. I know there are people who live like this, but they must have worked hard to get there or inherited money to sustain that kind of lifestyle. Still, oh, how I wish…

I’ll be ready to work when autumn comes, but for now I want to spend my days breathing and drinking the words of great writers. Finally life begins to make sense again.