Two characteristics of my personality have been with me lifelong. The love, well, obsession for reading. And anxiety. I do sincerely believe for good and ill, I acquired both from my mother. As a very young child, I was praised greatly for my progress in learning to read and as I grew older my mother would give me recommendations. She did not that I am aware of censor my reading. I recall when I was about thirteen years old, Mom gave me "The Grapes of Wrath" which I devoured in one weekend.

The anxiety whether from personal make-up or circumstances, I know not. Other folks have "circumstances" and are perfectly fine. Anxiety certainly is an aggravating condition but for the upside of it, as there seems so often a positive side to most situations, is that it has kept me for the most part from making a perfect ass of myself. As I didn't have the confidence. Yes, I am bragging about having the glorious trait of low esteem.

And what do these two qualities have to do with one another? Well, I tell you, when I feel anxious, fatigued, somewhat disconnected I have discovered that if I read out loud to myself, I am restored to my self. I feel energized and much more confident. It really doesn't matter what I read just so long as I read.

People either love my reading because they say it is a peaceful sound or they hate it for the bloody monotony of it. But however it affects other folks is neither here nor there for me. For me, it is a most successful form of meditation and when you are feeling vaporous, you just might give it a try.

Thanks Mom.