Remember the childhood book where this very large family of bears each lived in tree trunks with different interiors? I would pore over it page by page stressing over the fact I couldn’t pick out a favorite and the fact that Henrietta was the only bespectacled bear with the most boring bookish interior. Well. Watch for what you really put your thoughts to as you may manifest exactly what you think you don’t want if you put more thought into it than into what you do.

I am bespectacled from age and live in an erudite interior. However, I have mellowed on being hard on myself for being bookish. I travel with books on my shoulders like turtles travel with homes on their backs. Books need to be where I sit most in my home. Their golden spines and hand worn jackets warm the cockles of my heart. Their presence soothes and beckons me to be better. This family room here, the tree trunk I have lived in for five years, is a continuation of the kitchen. They have been the perennial flies on my walls as my children have come and gone, as my relationships have ebbed and flowed. They have been present through the thick of heartache and the light of victories. These books are sentinels to my spirit and guardians of my soul. Two years ago they also made me a cover girl for the first time in my life.