At the Library

When I need to clear my head, I go to the library.

When I sit in my office, my lost income presses down on me.  (See “You Weren’t Expecting to be Paid, Were You?“) I spin my wheels. I wonder if I will find a way to put out my next novel. I make t do lists about potential markets for my killed article and the non-fiction book proposal it was based on. I chide myself for not writing a real proposal on my more philosophical book and on not finding more markets for my proposed biography. I wonder if the play that I wrote (and at the moment most love) will ever be staged.  I become so focused on to do lists and action that I can’t move.

So I go to the library and I walk through the stacks picking up random books that catch my eye.  Sometimes I only need one line.

Today a dollar bill that someone had been using as a bookmark fell out of C.S. Lewis’ The Four Loves.

And I read this sentence on the inner jacket of The Wheel of Life by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross: “It is very important that you do only what you love to do. You may be poor, you may go hungry, and you may live in a shabby place, but you will totally live. And at the end of your days, you will bless your life because you have done what you came here to do.”


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