Monday – Funday

And even those who know the content, bring their own perspectives and experiences and projections to “reading” us. In the end, only us and our Creator know our true “content” and sometimes our “content” even reads as a mystery to us, as we go through the chapters of our lives.

When I was young, we were taught to respect and revere books. Books were considered sacred. We weren’t to fold or tear the pages. We treated the cover gingerly, sometimes even putting a cover on top of the cover, in order to keep the book protected. We were taught never to judge nor pick a book by its cover. Sometimes the most wonderful books had the plainest of covers and/or most banal of titles. Often a book that resonated with me, might not resonate with my friends, and that was okay. There were a sea of books in the library, for all of us to find our match. The library was the quietest and most peaceful part of the school. Each precious book had its own spot on the shelves, where it rested, until small hands and eager minds picked it up and opened it, to see what wonders lie inside. It was intoxicating to get to know a new book and to learn something new and interesting and unknown.

I like the thought that we are each our own book. Though I cannot possibly read all of the books ever written, I do know that books are so much more than their covers and their introductory descriptions, and what other people think of them. Each book holds a story, told like no one has ever told it. And that is precious and unique and sacred.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.