Classics Book Club and Self-Reflection

I finally did it! Something I've been talking about for years...Since we moved to Havre (4 years ago - has it been THAT long?). I took the plunge and started a book club. I was part of one in WA and attended for a  few years there. I still love to check up on those fantastic women through Facebook and their blogs. There is something magical about sharing adventures with fellow readers. You fall in love and hate with the characters, feel their pain together, share in the triumphs and joy! I also learned to see through the different lenses of these women. The character attributes I found strong and admirable, they saw as weak, and deplorable. I grew to love these women and to appreciate their differences, as well as to appreciate what we had in common. Over these years I have missed that emotional outlet, that mutual sharing of ideas and, ultimately, our souls.

Last night I followed the example of one, April Clark.  I hosted our first Classics Book Club. One of the main reasons I chose this group of literature is that I have my children reading classics as the main curriculum for homeschooling. However, it's embarrassing that I haven't read the classics that I'm assigning them to read! I also know from the few classics that I have read, the language, though difficult at first, is rich in description and flavor!  A true feast for the imagination. I also looked forward to the discussions that would be centered around these timeless treasures.  A classic is a classic, precisely because the tales are universal.  The struggles and triumphs in the human existence are not bound by place and time.  The glorious highs and deep sorrows of life are experienced by all of us, no matter our social standing, or period of time in which we live.

Since moving here, I have experienced an awakening.  I have awakened from a numbed existence.  I now realize how dead I was, how separated I was from my true self.  For the first time in years, I want to feel! I used to read to escape life.  Reading gave me a way to leave life and to experience my emotions in a "safe" arena, because my life wasn't safe.  I had to suppress, bury my real emotions. What I honestly felt about my life was so horrific, that I had to bury it in the nethermost part of my psyche.  I felt that if I let myself  really "feel" those things, then I would enter an abyss of sorrow and unhappiness, of such depth, that I would never be able to climb out.  My precariously balanced life would teeter over the edge, I would no longer be able to function as a mother, wife, and daughter of God.  My worth, my value, depended upon what I could accomplish, on what my children could accomplish.  Daily I felt a failure, but I had to hide that from everyone around me - my husband, my family, my friends, people at church, and most importantly, from myself.  Despite doing my best to ignore it, I knew it was there, this hatred of myself and my weaknesess. Keeping this inside me was slowly killing me, wearing me away. My life was unraveling, breaking at the seams. I knew I was clinically depressed, but couldn't bring myself to take medication. I knew there HAD to be another option.  As I write, I feel this sorrow, this sadness choking me. I feel my throat tighten, my nose begins to run, and the tears start to fall.  I was so lost, and felt so alone.

I have since learned that these physical sensations, both pleasurable and painful, are what make this life what it is.  I'm talking about the rush before a sporting event, the sick to your stomach feeling when you hear something horrible, the dry mouth and butterflies in your stomach when you're nervous. All these are examples of physical sensations that come before emotions.   Allowing myself to experience these sensations can be terrifying at times. Now I know that they are what make me alive! As I am learning to sit with them, I am no longer numb. I am present. I'm learning that entering the abyss, and trusting in God, makes these experiences less and less frightening.  He is always there. He always was. The reason I couldn't feel His presence was because I had numbed myself to all negative sensations and, unwittingly, also numbed the positive sensations. Thus, I could not feel that peaceful and calming physical sensation that comes with the Spirit.  I was numb to that all-encompassing warmth that would have let me know that I was encircled about by His love.

How does this relate to a book club, you ask?  I will tell you.  My purpose in reading is to no longer escape this life, but to experience it to the fullest. I will read about these trials and joys in the lives of the characters to see how they mirror my own.  These stories, help me find those things within myself that I need to weed out, as well as to celebrate the strengths that I see within me. I want to search out those weaknesses that I used to hide from myself.  I desire to face them and, painstakingly, remove them. This weeding takes time, patience, and strength.  Much like a vine that has wrapped itself around the base of a plant that I wish to save, I cannot simply rip out the invader.  I must carefully remove its choking fingers, because it has firmly entwined itself around the plant (me). I will not do this weeding alone, but with the help of the Master Gardener. I have also come to find that I am much kinder to myself.  Is it the fault of the plant that a weed grew around its base? Would punishing it help it to grow stronger? Or aid it in being fruitful?  The answer is obviously no.  Therefore, why should I wallow in self-loathing for something that is a natural part of the human existence? Does self-punishment encourage me to grow closer to God? Absolutely not. There is a time in my life when I can clearly see God's hand outstretched. It is when I falter, and in humiliation, accept His Greatest Gift, the Atonement, and feel its healing power in my life.  He has never condemned me, nor sentenced me to suffer. I do that to myself.  His arm is always there, beckoning me to Him, to bask in His Light and Goodness. Repentance is the path to liberty, not condemnation. I've not understood it properly until now. The vines that have bound me, like the plant, have been carefully nurtured and placed by the Adversary with the help of ME! By repenting, I remove these shackles, and free myself to grow into the beautiful woman (plant) that God knows I can be.

Just as I read about the trials of the heroes or heroines, I also admire their stellar qualities.  My goal is to endeavor to find those qualities within me.  I have always shied away from anything that might appear prideful.  In so doing, I censure myself.  Not only am I blessed with many faults and idiosyncrasies, I am blessed with many fine attributes.  Is it wrong to be modest and admit to myself and others that I think that I am an intelligent woman?  That I have a good heart? That I generally love others? That I like to be generous? That I take joy in strengthening others? I would bet that one complaint God has, is that I don't delight in all the goodness that is within me.  Can I boast perfection in any way?  No, but I can enjoy those times when I know that I glorify my God, by doing what is pleasing to Him.


Wow...I had no idea all of this was waiting to come out of me.  I was just going to write a little post of how excited I was to finally have a book club again.  I suppose that is the beauty and simplicity of writing. I was unaware of all these thoughts and emotions rolling around inside of me.  It is freeing to finally feel them by giving a voice to them, and letting them go. Unbeknownst to me, until now, I believe that reading the classics will be a vehicle to transport me to a better self, ultimately aiding me in bringing my will in sync with what God has in store for me.