I have always liked reading a lot of books. A lot and a lot of books, but lately I have found myself reading more and more of them, almost like I have developed a voracious appetite for them that I can’t seem to satisfy. And the interesting thing is that they are not necessarily new books, but books which I have previously read and now seem to want to read again- need to read again-surrounding myself with them like a security blanket.
Last week I bought myself the complete set of Maya Angelou’s autobiographies, and have started to work my way through them again – I feel like I am coming back to a very old friend. I first read these books when I was living in Scotland and was looking for some direction and much-needed reassurance in my life, and I found all those things and more among the re-telling of her fascinating and illustrious life.
Perhaps that is why I am coming back to them. Perhaps there is something in them that I need to nourish myself with a second time, some part which needs to hear the wisdom of a woman who has lived through so much, whose life can almost be seen as a road-map to those who come after her. To be inspired by her strength, to rejoice in her triumphs, and share in her sorrows.
All of this…with a gorgeous cup of tea.