Slower, Deeper, Better

Friends, how much do you absorb the first time you consume a book?
How often do you read or listen again, and why?
How does each repeat episode land; what impacts you similarly and differently?

I wrote (again) in April about The Art of Possibility, my favorite book since 2009, how I was inspired to share it with multiple friends in a short time recently, then moved to 
listen and read again
myself after a few years. With the most recent sharing, other books from my past came to mind, Curious by Ian Leslie in particular.  I knew I had listened to it at least twice and bought a hard copy but never actually read it. This time my annual book summary here on the blog came in handy–turns out I listened in 2019 and 2022. I absorbed more at those times than I can remember now, so I brought the book with me to London on vacation this month. I read ¾ of it on the flight back to Chicago.

Wow.  What an oddly novel experience, moving through a book that is already well known to me, but that I had clearly not fully absorbed and internalized.  Pencil in hand, flipping physical pages back and forth, underlining, starring, and writing in the margins, the full arc and organization of information, storytelling, and application of Leslie’s thesis emerges so much more forcefully and elegantly than I can remember from when I had only listened.  Clearly it made an impression then, as I was moved to buy the paperback.  And it’s possible that its impact now is that much stronger because I have lived, studied, and integrated so much else, gained so much more ancillary knowledge, in the five years since my initial listen, making its content that much richer and more meaningful to me today.  Now this studiously and lovingly marked up, dog-eared to the point of thickening (I have loosened that moratorium on myself) paper copy makes me, strangely, both satisfied and proud, like I have something worthy to show for my consumption of—my active engagement with—the text?

Looking back at that book list from 2019, three things stand out:
1. I consumed considerably fewer books that year compared to the years since—few enough to include a brief description of each in the blog post.
2. Many of the books from that year are still favorites, and I remember clearly how each of them impacted and continue to influence me.
3. A much larger proportion of them were read in print, compared to my book lists now.

Screenshot

from Instagram

Who knew I’d become such a voracious consumer of books, and in such a diversity of genres?  I credit my book club for opening my mind to fiction, which paved the way for my romance immersion, still going strong and as joyous and rewarding as ever after 21 months.  I am surrounded by readers, shown daily on social media everybody’s ‘Current Listen’ or new book mail reveal.  I admit to feeling a fair bit of peer pressure to consume and report!  It has pushed me to make time, find the most cost-effective methods of procurement, and hone my time management skills.  I have made amazing new friends from it all, too. I am a better person for this intense period of fire-hose-style audiobook consumption!

And now I think it’s time to slow down a bit.  Having ‘eyeball’ read a few more romances and novels this year, I appreciate how I can savor the story differently from when I hear it—maybe even better, I’m not sure. Kingfisher Lane by Grant Gosch stands out, a sensual romance written by a man, whose grasp of the heroine’s point of view is so spot on I was almost moved to tears.  I marked and folded many pages of that work and still pull it out to reread certain passages.

2019 was the year of Range, The Infinite Game, Insight, To Bless the Space Between Us, Braving the Wilderness, Atomic Habits, and Sex At Dawn, all books that influence me to this day, and that now I’d like to revisit in print.  I own paper copies of all but one, I believe, and have eyeball read only one (To Bless the Space).  Interestingly, that is the one I have also gifted more often than any of the others.

Every year of books both satisfies and edifies me, no matter the genre.  Even if I don’t absorb as much or as well by audio, just having interacted with these texts in this way is better than not, and audio is so much more efficient sometimes. There is just so much marvelous material to experience, so many meaningful stories, cool science, and
interdisciplinary insights and connections to make, oh. my. God!  Even if I retired today and did nothing but read and listen, my TBR/TBL would only continue to grow, and I would revel in its unfinished glory until I die!

tbr stack

Thus, I set myself a new challenge:  Reassess and reorganize how I spend my time, energy, and resources to make space for slower, deeper, and more meaningful engagement with my chosen books.  Life is only getting shorter; I want to savor and relish the words that others have so painstakingly and lovingly produced.  I respect and admire these authors so much, and appreciate even more their efforts to publish, as I now face the daunting task of attempting to put my own words out in the world at scale. 

OH, this will be so good.  There is no rush.  My Audible library contains over 200 unread titles, and over 300 on my wish list. The Everand lists stand similarly laden, as well as my library account.  My hoarding tendencies may be adequately gratified for now, and I can make my way through the joyous heap with flighty elation and deep contentment.  And, I may finally have a use for my nicer journals—book notes!  How better to put those pretty bound papers to use, profess an excuse to save them all (and continue acquiring more!), and also further solidify my self-study from all things verbal?

Slower.  Deeper.  Better.
Oh yes.

Time, Books, Bread, and Love

What is/are your love language/s?

According to Gary Chapman’s popular book The Five Love Languages, mine are, in order: quality time, words of affirmation, receiving gifts, physical touch, and acts of service. Since learning the framework, I have observed for Husband’s and Kids’ languages, and become more fluent in a few of their respective dialects. Some are easier to pick up than others! It’s humbling to think how friends and family may feel rejected by me when I respond sideways to their bids for love, because I don’t understand their intent. “Rats!” as friend Eileen would say. I can do better!

On the other hand, how wonderful when I can converse in love speech with someone in appreciation and joy? Words are definitely my currency–quality time for me means being together talking, and not just about pop culture and current events. I consider any thoughtful or personal verbal expression a gift, and especially anything via snail mail. I get positively giddy when I open the mailbox and see colored envelopes, interesting stamps, and omg stickers–it all just makes my heart sing.

Friend and fellow writer Nicole recently recommended the book Write For Your Life by Anna Quindlen. It’s a fast, easy, and heartwarming read by the veteran journalist and novelist. It validates my insatiable need to write–for myself and for sharing–and inspires me to do it with ever more abandon and joy. Quindlen reflects on the timeless relevance of Anne Frank’s diary, and our collective delight in finding old letters between lovers from the past. She wishes her parents left more words on paper, in their own hand, now that she can no longer connect with them in a tangible, tactile way. Even if you’ve never thought writing could stimulate, soothe, inspire, or connect you, this short work may convince you otherwise. Spending quality time with yourself and your thoughts, processing through pen on paper, may yield ideas, insights, and epiphanies that come no other way; and those who read them subsequently may benefit and connect to you in ways you cannot yet not imagine. So inspired was I after reading, that I bought multiple copies of WFYL and gifted them to friends. With each volume I selected a specific journal to go along. Pleather- and cloth-bound, blank, lined books invite original composition with artfully embossed covers: windblown trees; “Be the Change”; “ZEN AS F*CK”.

For my friend who took on a big new hairy leadership role, I included 6 additional works: The Art of Possibility, Benjamin and Rozamund Stone Zander; Switch, Chip and Dan Heath; Big Magic, Elizabeth Gilbert; Rising Strong, Brene Brown; Drive, Daniel Pink; and The Infinite Game, Simon Sinek. To the one who stands together with his wife at their respective professional crossroads, I accompanied Quindlen with John O’Donohue’s wisdom in To Bless the Space Between Us. His poems soothe, uplift, warm, and reassure, promoting reflection and also whispering, coaxing our own wisdom to emerge from within. Sharing others’ words, wiser and more eloquent than my own, is another way I love my friends.

When I can get the timing right, of course I also include some sourdough in the gift bag. Sven continues to thrive, leavening my loaves reliably for a over a year now. His heirloom flour descendant, whose products my gluten-intolerant friends can eat without consequence, has finally also developed that fruity aroma that I recognize as my starter. There is something special about giving and receiving gifts we make (or write) by hand, with our time, talent, and treasure. It’s just another level of love, expressed concretely and tangibly.

Nobody questions the value of sharing and expressing love between friends and family.

But what about between colleagues? Leaders and those they lead? Systems and their contingent members? What does it take to learn and attempt to speak anybody’s ‘love’ language? When we do personality tests at the office and find out who’s an introvert or extravert, who thinks versus feels their way to a decision, can we as leaders and coworkers make the effort to communicate–to relate–on another’s terms in addition to our own? I fail at this day after day; rats! I can do better!

In the end it’s about how we each feel seen, heard, understood, accepted and loved–why limit this essential and life-sustaining human reciprocity to ‘loved ones’? Better yet, why not include all with whom we are in any relationship among those we consider ‘loved‘? It may require quite a brave and committed redefinition of and reorientation to ‘love’, no? But how might this inspired shift in perspective, even by only a fraction of one degree, profoundly alter the course of business, healthcare, education, government–everything?

Stay Connected

NaBoPoMo 2021:  Do Good, Kid

My friend Liz is amazing.

We met just as I was leaving my last practice 7 years ago, and I knew right away I had to grow this relationship.  She is an elder sister in the profession—a wise, compassionate, generous, empathic, smart, thoughtful, and loving physician and teacher.  After I had the privilege of presenting to her and her amazing colleagues on physician burnout (really, they schooled me that day), Liz showed me the inner world of primary care in a correctional facility.  We toured incredibly aged buildings.  Liz explained the frustrating limitations of working in a jail environment and the difficulties arranging optimal follow up when detainees are released.  But most of all, she showed me what true, deep respect for every person’s dignity, no matter how vulnerable, looks like.  Holy cow, I will never forget that day. 

Liz is also a deeply spiritual person.  She wrote the chapter on spiritual resources for Jewish healthcare professionals in Judaism and Health.  After our day together at the jail, we kept trying to meet again.  I wanted to learn more about Judaism and how she lived it—personally, professionally, and in community.  But my kids were little and the weather was bad on the nights we planned to meet, or something would come up, or- or- or…  It just never worked out.  But as physicians of deep faith, we both always knew we would connect again someday.

We kept in touch all these years mostly through occasional emails, and then YAY Facebook, especially the Physician Moms Group!  By far the most valuable thing about social media is sharing photos and reading life updates.  It really makes you feel like you’re in your friends’ lives up close, going through all the ups and downs, sharing joys and sorrows, witnessing from afar.  When I posted recently about a freak out I had over Daughter’s anaphylactic food allergy, Liz reached out.

We met in her neighborhood, which happens to be my old college stomping grounds.  We walked all over campus and caught up, shared stories, commiserated, and bonded, just like we always knew we would.  I got a copy of the book with a bonus printout of her favorite poem, “The Seven of Pentacles” by Marge Piercy.  I will return the love with my favorite book of poems so far, To Bless the Space Between Us by John O’Donohue. 

The space between us, indeed.  So near, just across town, yet so far, 7 years, and yet so near still, always connected in spirit through the years, light and strong, like dental floss or fishing line… We stayed connected, patiently, faithfully, knowing that divinity operates on its own schedule, and that when we could finally meet again, it would be powerful and lovely. 

And so it was.

It will not be another 7 years, this we know.  And it was well worth the wait.