Just Me in the Temple of Quiet

I feel very guilty.  I've left the kids with dad and sit in the library, alone.  There are many people here.  A lot of them are rather noisy even though we are in a "temple of quiet" called a library.  Maybe the library is no longer such a temple.  No matter.  I still come here to "worship."   Libraries always help me feel centered, alive, whole.

Actual books aren't as popular at they once were.  More and more people are using technology to download books and periodicals on little brightly lit squares.  This square will never smell or feel like a book.  I won't hold on to the book determined to never yield to technology.    I'll adapt.  I will still love the printed word whether it be on paper or on a screen of liquid crystals.  As sad as I might be to have books disappear, I'll be sadder still if libraries disappear. 

The library shelters those of us gathered here.   Next to me is a glass-walled study room.  It is rarely empty.  There is always a small child fussing somewhere.  Most of the time they are upset because their grown-up wants to leave.  For the grown-up, life is beckoning them elsewhere.  For the child, this is where life is.  The magic of books and pages holds them fast.  The eccentrics in their distinctive costumes sit along side of the people who are just stopping by on their way home from work.  We're all here to get out of the cold.  To step outside the chaos of the world and to find our way home.

I come to the library to be alone with my thoughts.  To find time to write, to think, to get to know myself again among all the other seekers.  I came to the library to be alone. 

I've neglected my alone time lately.  I haven't taken time for my own Just 10 and as a result, I've not made time for each member of my family.  I can feel a huge difference in me.  Just 10 might be a benefit to my children and my husband but I'm the one who benefits most.  When I get so busy with the daily stuff of life, I lose my way.  My values become hard to find.  My motivation to reach the end of another day wavers. 

While at the library today, I stumbled into a song called,  "Before I Go" by a group from Alaska by Bearfoot.  Funny, how things converge in points of time.  Here at the library, "the temple of quiet, I find myself in a song from a distant blue grass group.  They/It reminds me that I have some miles to travel before I go. 

This realization doesn't leave me sad.  Today among the books, noise and computer screens, I found a piece of myself again.  A piece that is much like all the other pieces we all search for.  Alone in the library, I am not alone.  I can try again.