Some people spend a huge amount of time and money on their journey of self discovery. Me, I seem to meander through my days, not much rocks my boat. Does this make me shallow, boring, less of a person even? Do I need to know my personality type? My pre-disposition to be happy, rich, fit or popular? I know my dietary likes, my reading preferences and I know I love going to the movies alone. I know my granddaughter loves me just because I’m me, and maybe because I bring presents, but how much more of me is there to find, and how deep will I have to dig to find me? Well, it’s discovery month, so I’ll have a go.
I thought I’d try a systematic approach to select some fab reading material. So I have a list:
Books to read:
Ok, then I received nine boxes of books at work and got horribly distracted. My list has turned into:
More new fiction than I can possibly order on my library card over the next three months. A new cookbook or three, some beautifully photographed travel books, picture books for the kids (or me), the fashion mags, a travel blog, a gossip blog and so on. Now that’s discovery. A veritable feast of words.
So I have discovered I’m not so shallow, more that my reading desires outnumber my available time. I’ve discovered that the only time I panic is when I have less than three books on the bedside table and nothing on the to-read list (Cue the twitter reading group suggestions and my readingfest continues).
I’ve discovered that there is so much to discover and if you have any favourites you think I need to discover, let me know. In the meantime I’m going to discover another Alex Miller and my lotto numbers. When I win, I’ll have lots more time to discover.