Here is what Good Books do.
First, they allow themselves to be introduced into your life. One person, then another, then perhaps another, will suggest you pick up a particular title. In my world, this is a sign to at least consider it.
The Good Book knows its next job is to reel you in early. And it does. Most recently for me in the form of Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Sixteen pages. That’s all it took for me to leave Borders with it in hand. This annoys and delights me simultaneously, the former because a little voice inside me wants to know why I’m spending money on yet another book and the latter because, well, I adore books.
And so I begin reading Gilbert’s words in earnest and the delight continues. This book speaks to my writer, my spirit, my intellect and my reader who just plain wants to be entertained. And then it does what I wish every book I pick up would do. It insinuates itself into my life. It makes me stare longingly at a bench at the Hoboken waterfront, so strong is my desire to get back into Gilbert’s world. And then it forces me to look at my watch and decide that, yes, in fact, not a soul in the world would be adversely affected if I plunked myself down for 45 minutes or so and took a little journey to Rome.
I have manifested this. Every last bit of it. I am supposed to be reading this book, supposed to feel the pull across the Atlantic Ocean to Europe, supposed to relate to her spiritual journey in a myriad of ways, supposed to be pushed to write this blog.
A Good Book has brought me here. I am in the Flow.