A Case for Bibliotherapy

I am a voracious reader.  At least, I was once upon a time.  I used to begin each day with an hour in the Bible and my journal.  Beautiful, precious time.  Time of conviction, yes, but mercy and love and peace as well.  I can remember whole days lost in the pages of a book.  All different kinds of books.  Mark Twain, Robert Frost, William Goldman . . . I wasn't really choosy.  I just loved to read. 


Then the babies came.  My son slept very well at night, even from the beginning, but we had nursing issues, and I spent 90 minutes of every two hours either nursing, bottle feeding, pumping, or cleaning up/preparing to do it all over again.  The only book I read was What to Expect When You're Expecting, specifically the chapters on breastfeeding and breastfeeding nutrition. 

Morning devotions were a thing of the past.  I went to bed at 7pm with my son, woke up in the night and did my brutal nursing, bottle feeding, pumping, cleaning up routine, and crashed again.  There was no way I was waking up one second before the little one did, I can tell you that!

And so I entered the world of the wordless.  Even my thought life stultified a bit as I struggled to teach my son Spanish and ASL, two languages in which I am not fluent.  (Though my Spanish has improved marvelously in the last 4 years!)  Once my daughter came along, reading was so much a thing of the past that I almost didn't remember it. 

Not to say I never read . . . I had bathroom reading: Our Daily Bread, Wheaton, Decision . . . highbrow stuff like that.  And I read to the kids.  Touch and Feel Farm.  A Fly Went By.  TRUCKS. 

Then I started taking my kids to Story Hour at the library.  Since we were there, I let them each pick out a couple books.  Then one day, I picked out a book.  And I couldn't put it down.  And I stayed up until way too late reading because one more chapter was never enough.  And it felt great!

Then my counselors started recommending books, and I became a junkie for all things psychological and relational.  I devoured The Dance of Anger by Harriet Lerner (a book which EVERY woman . . . possible every PERSON . . . should read) in one day . . . and then re-read it about six times over the following month.

Then my husband asked for a divorce.  My reading disappeared aside from Writer's Market 2016, which every writer-for-hire should invest in.  My writing exploded.  Children's stories.  Farmer profiles.  Event recaps.  I began blogging.  I put in hours I didn't know I could put in and poured out more words than I ever imagined I possessed. 

For the past two months, any "free time" I have had has been spent at a keyboard, trying to generate as much word-based income as possible. 

Until this weekend.  This weekend I hit the wall.  My kids were scheduled to go on a Pajama Party Sleepover with my in-laws.  I woke up Saturday with a headache.  The kids left.  My headache persisted. 

I went to the library's book/bake sale fundraiser to drop brownies off that my neighbor had made.  I couldn't resist.  I bought 2 books: a David Baldacci (my go-to, guilty-pleasure author) and a Tony Hillerman.  I mowed the lawn for 4 hours.  My headache persisted.  I told myself I had to write.  My headache persisted.  I gave up.  I streamed some TV and went to bed. 

Sunday I awoke headache-free and was certain I would write after church.  Instead I mowed the rest of the lawn for 2 hours.  When I came in, tired and hot, I said, "Kristen . . . you need a break."  So I picked up Tony Hillerman.  And I read.  I finished Skeleton Man.

Yesterday, my kids napped.  Instead of working, I picked up Hell's Corner.  Today I finished it. 

I confess I felt a bit wanton, like I was playing hooky when I should be in school.  There was a fatigue so deep in my soul, though, that I just needed a break.  And I took it.  And this afternoon, as my kids slept, I started to write again.  And I was glad to be back to work.  And I got my article done before supper, so tonight I can work on other things and still get to bed early. 

The point of all this?  Sometimes, when the pressures of life are beating at your door, and you're kicking the wall as hard as you can to get to the other side, the green, verdant side, the best thing you can do is take a stay-cation with a great book. 

Maybe you don't like the crime novels like I do.  Maybe you like a cheesy romance (I did, before romance kicked my butt!).  Maybe you like recipe books or knitting books.  Whatever it is, make the time to run away to a different world for a little while.  (For me, it took a few days!)  When you come back, I think you will find the world a brighter place. 

I did.