So Many Books, Not Enough Space

Lovey (aka Jill) and books from a long time ago

I have a “situation.” 

It’s not serious enough to be classified as a problem. 

And, it’s really not a terrible situation to be in. 

I am running out of shelf space. 

This year, I have bought more books than I usually do. Because of the #22in22 initiative (if you’re not familiar with the initiative, you can click here to read an earlier blog post about it), I find myself not just visiting more bookstores, but shopping in these bookstores. Which means, I have a stack full of books that I have yet to read. And, I am running out of space for all these books.

I decided to spend some time trying to re-arrange my shelves. Was there another way, a more efficient way, to stack my books? Generally, I try to keep one author’s novels grouped together. For nonfiction, I try to group them by subject when possible. 

On a bottom shelf I found a few books that I haven’t looked at in a long time. These were books I read quite a long time ago. Before adulthood. Before I moved out of my parents’ house when I was twenty-two. These are books that moved with me when my then-fiancé, now-husband moved in together. And when we moved from our one bedroom apartment to our current three-bedroom townhome, these books moved with me. But even more than that, these books were moved and unpacked and put on my bookcase. 

Now the time has come to move these books to another location. They will be moved into a large plastic box I have in my closet, a box that has a few pieces of jewelry that were important to me when I was younger, a doll that had two names (Lovey and Jill), and a little scooper I made in my junior high school metal shop class. 

I’m not ready to donate these books. But I am ready to claim their shelf space.

Readers, I’m curious. Do you have any books from your childhood that you’ve held on to? Please share!!

National Moon Day

In our family, we’re big fans of space exploration, and books and movies about space exploration. My son and I can recite lines and lines of dialogue from the Ron Howard-directed film Apollo 13. (We know much more than the famous, “Houston, We have a problem.”)

When we watch Hidden Figures, we cheer as Kevin Costner’s character breaks down the “colored ladies room” sign. We applaud when he says, “Here at NASA, we all pee the same color.” 

And today, we stop and think about the moon. About those who have traveled to, and walked on, the moon. Those who worked to make it possible for human beings to leave our planet and return safely home. 

Because today is National Moon Day. 

Today is the 53rd anniversary of the first manned landing on the moon — Apollo XI, with astronauts Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Michael Collins.

It is one of those defining moments in human history. Those that were old enough remember the significance of the time, and can recall details about where they were when Neil Armstrong spoke to the planet — “That’s one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind.”

I’m not old enough. But I can tell you that Alan Shepard hit a golf ball on the moon (Apollo XIV). 

Astronaut David Scott (Apollo XV) conducted a science experiment, demonstrating that a hammer and feather would fall and hit the surface of the moon at the same time.

And astronaut Charles Duke (Apollo XVI) left a photo of his family on the moon.

And today, in the photo above, I share with you just a few of our family’s moon-related books.

Readers — I would love to hear from you. Favorite space-related memory? Book? Movie? Please share!

Brighter By the Day

I’m a big fan of Robin Roberts and her books.  

In case you missed it, you can click here to read my blog post about her book From the Heart: Eight Rules to Live By

And you can click here to read my blog post about her other book Everybody’s Got Something

Which means I went ahead and ordered her most recent book Brighter By the Day: Waking Up to New Hopes and Dreams without even having seen the book in person.

I was not disappointed. My copy is full of sticky notes and many passages are marked with my highlighter. This book is really such a gift. And while we’re at it, Robin Roberts is really such a gift. 

It’s the way Ms. Roberts writes, as if she’s sitting down giving you a pep talk. Here are just a few gems to share with you:

“Yet here’s what I believe: Optimism is a muscle that grows stronger with use.”

“I’d like to pass on to you the gem my parents once gave me: You already have everything you need to forge a new path for yourself. I know you’re fierce, because it takes chutzpah to consider a new course. And I’m betting that you’ve got hope that tomorrow can be better, ‘cause otherwise, you probably wouldn’t have picked up this little tome.” 

“Confidence isn’t the absence of fear; it’s the presence of mind to move through the trembling.” 

“During my dual showdowns with cancer, I brought my gratitude A game. I knew I had just two plays: I could allow the illness to destroy and define me, to permanently cripple my spirit. Or I could embrace the experience as a rebirth, as a butterfly struggling against the walls of its cocoon, and getting stronger as it does.” 

“People often see the glass as half-empty or half-full. I simply see the glass.” 

“Do you want it more than you fear it? It’s what I now ask myself whenever trepidation makes a house call.” 

“We may not ever fully comprehend why catastrophe has befallen us, and that’s okay. Our job isn’t to comprehend it. It’s to redeem it for good.”

“My village — not an absence of fear — got me through the most harrowing two ordeals of my life-time. That is why I know this: Strength, the real kind, isn’t about braving the behemoths on our own. It’s about being willing to receive — to embrace the help, hope, and healing others want to give us. Vulnerability is the gateway to fortitude. An ever-deepening intimacy with those we love is the enduring treasure.”

“When I’m dealing with a situation I think is all-important, I put it through a litmus test: In a year or two, will this matter? Often it won’t, even in a few months. That awareness changes my perspective and re-anchors me in the present.”

“That’s part of what it means to be brighter by the day: to be mindful of every breath we’re given. Don’t rob yourself of that treasure.”

Disability Pride Month Reading

July is Disability Pride Month, and Sunday, July 10th is Chronic Disease Awareness Day

For me, July also marks  the anniversary of “the day,” — the day I went into the hospital with a swollen left calf, unable to walk, unable to stand, without knowing that was only the beginning of my life with an invisible disability. (Twelve years ago this month.)

After I became ill and was finally diagnosed, I went looking — for help, for support, for community — in books. I didn’t find much.

Since then, however, my library has expanded and includes books that speak to my life with an invisible disability. Not necessarily because the author also has an autoimmune disease or chronic pain in her left leg. In fact, the specific details can vary widely, yet it’s the emotions we share. I read these books, and feel understood, and heard, and seen. And when you’re living with a medical condition that isn’t easily understood — by those closest to you and those treating you — that sense of community is huge. 

So this week, I’d like to share just a few books in honor of Disability Pride Month and Chronic Disease Awareness Day.

Bravey by Alexi Pappas. The specifics are very different (she’s an Olympian after all!), but the emotions are similar. My copy is full of sticky notes. (You can check out my blog post, “Trying To Be a Bravey,” by clicking here.)

The Things We Don’t Say: An Anthology of Chronic Illness Truths edited by Julie Morgenlender. I’m proud to say my essay, “Chronic Contradictions,” is included in this incredible collection. In this anthology “forty-two authors from around the world open up in fifty true stories about their chronic illnesses and their search for answers, poor treatment by doctors, strained relationships with loved ones, self-doubt, and more.” (You can read an earlier blog post written shortly after the anthology was published by clicking here.)

Chronic Resilience by Danea Horn. I don’t remember how I discovered this book. I just know I felt so lucky to have found it. I have read it more than once, and even wrote the author a fan letter! I highly recommend it. (You can learn more about the book here.)

The Pretty One by Keah Brown.  I found this book at Target and was captivated by the author’s smile and joy that is so evident on the front cover. (I wrote a blog post about Ms. Brown’s book and several of my favorite passages. You can read it here.)

No Cure For Being Human by Kate Bowler. Incredible writing. Beautiful, profound, and funny too. (This book I read fairly recently, back in April. You can read my blog post, “No Cure For Being Human,” by clicking here.)

Readers, any recommendations? I’d love to hear about books you have read that you think those of us with disabilities and/or chronic diseases would enjoy reading.