A commonplace

I wouldn’t call myself an avid reader. But I have read quite a few books, and they’ve stuck with me in ways I can’t put into words. Not because I don’t know how to articulate the change- there is that to some extent- but it is primarily that I forget these worlds after some time, sometimes to the extent that I don’t even remember having read the book. Yet, though the details of the characters and the plots are forgotten, I still manage to feel something when I stumble across the cover of a book I’ve read. It’s an on oddly familiar feeling, like seeing an old friend: I used to know you, I don’t know you anymore, still just looking at you reminds me of the depth we shared, and leaves me feeling like a stranger to myself, because I’m no longer the person I was when I knew you, and I don’t recognise her anymore.

So here I am. Determined to read more- yes. But more so, determined to reflect deeper on the books I read and the many little ways they change me. And of course it goes beyond books. Those who know me, know I watch way too many movies. I wouldn’t go as far as calling every movie/show I watch a ‘story’. Though one could argue they are, I choose to reserve this title for the beautifully written ones, the ones that linger long after you’ve seen them. The Lunchbox, for example, is one of those beautiful stories. I’ve seen it 4 times now, and it still makes me ache to the point of tears and think about the characters long after the credit roll. The next time I see it, I want to write what feelings it stirs up in me, to observe how my view of the world is changing over time, and to be able to read these back and be reminded of who I once was. Sort of like when you catch up with an old friend and it’s almost like no time has passed at all.

Thank you for coming along this journey with me.

Welcome to A Commonplace.