Bookish Life of Libra
February 6, 2013 § 4 Comments
I’ve come to believe that I do not choose books.
Instead, the books choose me, or rather, the Universe picks the books, which in turn pick me.
When I look at the list of the last year’s reads, their purpose is so obvious (if it weren’t so late I’d go into all of that).
Today, my Libran curse, the zodiac sign that I was delivered into at birth, tipped and teetered on its metaphorical and literal scales.
Indecisiveness was painfully present. Do I run? Do I write? Do I cry? Do I smile? Do I believe? Do I quit?
Even the weather acted like a Libra, asking, “Is it winter? Is it spring?”
The biting cold morning turned just beautiful by mid-afternoon; freezing again when I went to collect the mail at sun-down.
In my headphones, I steadied myself by listening to the Life of Pi, by Yann Martel.
Chapter 16 was so illuminating, describing God and the Universe and religion and the answers, that I rewound and replayed it twice.
Piscine (the narrator and protagonist) decided (as a boy), to become a practicing Christian, Muslim and Hindu.
Upon discovery of this, his wise men, men with whom he’d secretly built relationships, who had taught him their ways, told him that he couldn’t be all three, that they have nothing in common, and that it was impossible for them to be practiced together.
And yet Piscine felt strongly that they could be; he loved God and wanted to know God, choosing to be Christened in church, praying to Allah on a small, rolled-out floor rug, and continuing to feel at home in Hindu temples like the first one his mother took him to as a baby.
He was not indecisive about this, the most sacred understanding.
In all of today’s Libran swaying, it was the only thing that made any sense at all.
How can that be?
Do you choose books or do they choose you? Have you read Life of Pi?