Reading Makes For ...

"People who read do not exercise their minds."

How's that for an oxymoron?

I suppose it depends on what materials are being read. And the manner of which it is being read.

Whenever I'm tired or just plain sick, there's nothing more relaxing than curling up with a book in bed. Favourite reading materials include thrilling mysteries, humor with a dash of romance or two. You don't have to think, just let the author woo and lead you with their clever words.

That would classify me as a reader who has kept her brain in cold storage for so long, she's embarrassed to pinpoint when exactly that happened.

See, when I was a teen, I wanted to be taken seriously. What better way than to plunge into thinking of heavy matters and having an opinion about everything from politics to potatoes. I pondered long and hard about issues like abortions, infanticide, the green house effect, recycling, women's rights, and genetic engineering. Back then, I wanted to make a difference. I believed that it sometimes takes just one person to rock the nation and the world. Look at people like Mother Theresa, Mahatma Gandhi, David Livingstone, Jesus Christ.

I still do want to make a difference.

Somehow in between the then and now, complacency and laziness have crept into my heart and mind. And perhaps disbelief on what someone like me could possibly hope to do to make any sort of impact in a world that listens to the loudest voice, and be influenced by those with the biggest purse and powerful cronies?

Sad, eh? Defeated even before I even started making ripples. But God wouldn't let me take things easy for too long. Circumstances turned out in such a way that I'm placed in a position where I am expected to strategise and look at things in a bigger picture. Not only that, to find ways to influence others to think and act along those things that I propose.

I hated every moment of it that requires me to step into a much bigger and exotic looking pair of shoes. I miss my old comfortable loafers!

Given a choice, I'll be quite contented sitting in a toll booth somewhere collecting money from passing motorists. And reading women's magazines and chick lits during breaks

Although a few good things did come out of it. For one, I find myself waking up with a zest and excitement that has been missing for quite a while now. For another, I feel a heightened sense of interest in knowing more of the world around me and to ponder and care about issues that are outside my own little world. And I started reading with questions like why did the author arrive at such conclusions and how did they manage to present dry facts in such a brilliant and interesting manner?

Who says growing up is easy? But when I do grow up, I hope I will never lose sight of the child within me. I don't want to ever lose the sense of wonder and passion in the simple treasures of life.

"A grownup is a child with layers on."
~ Woody Harrelson