Tag Archives: books

Bye, 2017! The Best Books of the Year To Soothe Your Soul

Five books to soothe sore souls

It has been a rough year for all of us. From the explosion of xenophobia and the election of a sexual predator to the White House, to the near constant headlines of police brutality and senseless gun violence, 2017 required us to take an exhausting look at the sickness of our society. Those of us navigating a sick society with sick bodies have had an even rougher year, with constant threats to Medicare, Medicaid, and the Affordable Care Act adding more stress to our already maxed-out bodies.

While the shitstorm of 2017 grew inside and out, I turned to mankind’s greatest comfort: books.

books to soothe

Books are the ultimate window into humanity. They draw out love, grief, fear, despair, hope – those universal truths of humanness that all of us feel so intensely and yet too often make us feel alone. Books are the ultimate tools for empathy. A good book shines a light on truths inside of yourself and helps you see the truths in those around you.

As Maya Angelou wrote:

“Information helps you to see that you’re not alone. That there’s somebody in Mississippi and somebody in Tokyo who all have wept, who’ve all longed and lost, who’ve all been happy. So the library helps you to see, not only that you are not alone, but that you’re not really any different from everyone else.”

For me, books have almost always housed the medicine I need and this past year was no different. Here is a round-up of a select few books to soothe that have helped keep me sane and thriving despite sickness in 2017.

The Art of Mindful Living: How to Bring Love, Compassion, and Inner Peace Into Your Daily Life by Thich Nhat Hahn

books to soothe

This audiobook is only two hours long, but it contains more wisdom and guidance than an epic tome. Read and written by Zen Buddhist master Thich Nhat Hahn, this book has changed my life. I have listened to it many times and use the principles within it every single day in my mindfulness practice. I will gladly spend the rest of my life practicing the teachings of this book.

This book is perfect for: humans; those seeking peace or healing; anyone interested in mindfulness, spirituality, or meditation

When Women Were Birds: 54 Variations on Voice by Terry Tempest Williams

My boss, friend, and mentor Margaret Eissler at the National Park Service gave this book to me shortly after Chronic Migraine turned my entire life upside down. That was four years ago, and I just got around to reading Terry Tempest Williams’ poetic memoir this year. made my heart sing and my eyes fill with tears. Her voice is so honest, so strong, so clued into the natural world and what it means to be female.

“We come into this world through women, a woman who is spent, broken open, in awe. No wonder women have been feared and worshipped ever since man first saw the crowning of a human head here, legs spread, a brushtroke of light.

We are Fire. We are Water. We are Earth. We are Air.

We are all things elemental.”

This book is perfect for: writers, poets, hikers, environmentalists, strong women

The Grim Sleeper: The Lost Women of South Central books to sootheby Christine Pelisek

 

True crime is my ultimate weakness. Nothing distracts me from my own pain and trouble like a gory, true, and horrifying tale of crime. While I get my fix mostly from podcasts (SSDGM!), The Grim Sleeper was absolutely worth the commitment. With respect and journalistic integrity, Christine Pelisek tells the true story of a serial killer in Los Angeles who murdered women of color over the course of decades. The book takes a hard look at our justice system, race relations, and violence against women. It’s a horrifying story that absolutely needs to be told.

This book is perfect for: true crime aficionados, making the hours fly by, sleeping with the lights on

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

Honestly, I hate it when books make you cry but sometimes it’s necessary. Angie Thomas’ young adult novel about a young black girl who witnesses the murder of her friend by a police officer had me in tears at least three times. The story is heavy, relevant, important, and wonderfully told through the eyes of a 15-year-old narrator. I usually don’t go for YA books, but this one is so much more adult than I expected. And it manages to cover serious themes without being preachy. A+

“Sometimes you can do everything right and things will still go wrong. The key is to never stop doing right.”

This book is perfect for: white people; fostering empathy

Manhattan Beach by Jennifer Egan

books to soothe

As far as I’m concerned, Jennifer Egan is a goddess. Her genre-bending Pulitzer Prize-winning novel A Visit From the Goon Squad blew me away in its scope and creativity, so when I saw she came out with a new novel in 2017, I immediately got my hands on a(n audio) copy. Manhattan Beach is on the longer side, and I almost lost interest part way through, but I am so, so glad I stuck with it. This historical fiction novel takes place during WWII in New York City and follows the life of Anna as she navigates what it means to be a working woman during wartime in a society that prefers women to be invisible. It is an adventurous and unpredictable novel filled with memorable characters, a vivid setting, and an exciting plot. In short, everything I look for in a good book.

This book is perfect for: history lovers; fans of the Sopranos; modern-day Rosie the Riveters

Peace out, 2017! I can’t wait to see what 2018 will bring: the adventures, the tragedies, and the books to soothe both.

Comments? What was your favorite book of 2017?

reading with chronic migraine

Life Without Books: Mourning My Migraine Sacrifice

Not all of the friends lost because of chronic illness are made of flesh

The backs of shampoo bottles. Street signs and shop names. Catalogs and junk mail. Words swirl in my mind all day long. My eyes are drawn to words – in the car, in the shower, on the toilet, in the kitchen. A stack of papers on the counter is a temptation too much to resist for me. I have been accused of being nosey more than once, rifling through a friend’s mail.

The author and her dad and a book. 1993ish

In other words, I love words. A reader since age four, words have been a big part of my life for as long as I can remember. I hold my own memories and the stories I have read just as dearly. Anne of Green Gables was my bosom friend, dear to me as her living, breathing counterpart. Mary, Beth, Jo, and Amy March – the sisters from Little Women – taught me almost as much about feminity and independence as my own three sisters.

When I first encountered death at a young age – in its slow, stinking form of cancer – and its partner grief, I took to the page. I wrote a story – full of plaigarism, spelling mistakes, and hearts over the i’s like you would expect from a 9-year-old girl. It was morbid and a little silly, but it was the only way for me to make sense of something as big and unpredictable as death – through words.

Reading with Chronic Migraine? Yeah, Right

The author and her mom and a book. 1993ish

Eighteen years later, Chronic Migraine has changed everything. Chronic Migraine brings a lot of baggage – debilitating and diverse symptoms, ruined relationships and careers, destroyed dreams and altered plans. Among other things, Chronic Migraine brings me light senstivity, a headache all the freaking time, and a very different relationship with words.

I still love words. I devour podcasts and music and audiobooks regularly. Writing is a huge part of my life. But books – the magical, rough, fragrant physical objects with their coffee stains and barcodes – are no longer an integral part of my human experience. Chronic Migriane has stolen so much from me that it may seem silly to mourn the loss of books, but for me, it is devastating.

I can still read, of course, and sometimes I still do. But in the same way that I have to carefully moniter and allot the little energy I get each day, I have to regulate how and how long I use my eyes. Because the majority of my pain is in my head, my face, my eyeballs, and my neck, any tasks that involve visual and/or intellectual concentration is difficult and draining.

I am so, so, so lucky to have a paying job where I not only get to learn and advocate about my illness, but I get to use the very thing I love so dearly – words. Like so many other jobs, mine involves a computer screen. Every hour I spend looking at a computer screen or shopping in flourescent lights or walking in bright sunlight is an hour that I cannot spend looking at a book. I simply do not have the well hours and my aching eyes do not have the ability to do it all. Reading with Chronic Migraine is near-impossible.

From Dostoevsky to To-Do Lists

Chronic Migraine is a lot like this Twilight Zone episode. Haven’t seen it? Netlifx.

Giving up the pages of books is a small price to pay for what I have gained. Gainful employment and being active outside are two big parts of my life right now. To a healthy person, this sounds basic, but anyone with a chronic illness understands that both of these are HUGE. This time last year both were merely fantasies.

I still have mulitple library cards. I still go to the library regularly, with my laptop to write or sometimes to just walk up and down the rows of books, breathing deeply their smell, carresssing dusty spines, and remembering old friends. I still scribble in a Moleskin from time to time and skim too many political articles online.

Sometimes I pick up a book of poetry or short stories, but unlike in my healthy life, I rarely finish an entire volume. Reading with Chronic Migraine is a stunted, unsatisfying affair.  I read The Brothers Karamazov at 17 and at 27 I stick to mainly to the backs of shampoo bottles, street signs, and junk mail.

I miss books deeply – I miss seeing them on my nightstand and feeling them knock against my thigh in my purse. But mostly, I miss myself when I was reading books. I miss the days when, “Does my brain work?” and “Will I be able to open my eyes today?” were not the first questions that ran through my mind in the morning.

But I am coping – with this loss and the many, many others that I have sustained at the hands of chronic illness. I have faith that someday books will be a big part of my life again. Until then, I’m going to keep holding on tight to my library card – and my Audible subscription.

Chronic Illness and Living Vicariously Through Books

I have had a migraine for the past THIRTY SIX days. Surprisingly, I have not yet gone insane. I have been more or less glued to my ultra cozy bed in my dark room. Trying to make myself as comfortable as possible has become my full time job. My muscles ache, my head is pounding, the room is spinning, my ears are ringing, and my stomach is churning. I feel like I have been violently struck in the head every day for the past 36 days.

Seriously, even my hair hurts. Thanks to the magic of the central nervous systems, migraines manifest themselves in a variety of bizarre symptoms like allodynia. Allodynia is the experience of pain from touch that should not be painful. When I have a migraine, the pain nerve cells in my brain and spine get over-excited. The sensory signals in my central nervous system get mixed up and cause normal touch to produce an abnormal painful result. A neurologist recently tested me for alloydnia by lightly running a paintbrush over the skin on my forehead. Just that light touch caused intense pain in my head.

Migraine sufferers who experience allodynia are more likely to find that their migraines don’t respond to triptans, which are one of the most effective families of migraine drugs. Despite years of trial and error triptans have never worked well for me. Because I haven’t found a medication that aborts my migraines, I run the risk of developing migraines that lasts for weeks. These long-lasting migraines are called status migrainosus or intractable migraines. They are pure hell.

I have kept my sanity intact through these long weeks of pain using the most powerful tool at my disposal: distraction. I binge watch every episode of Parks and Rec through half open eyes. I crochet beanie after beanie. I listen to podcasts and gentle music. I take more naps than a toddler. Nothing takes me away from my pain, however, like the emotional power of a good novel. I recently finished listening via audiobook to the final novel  in Italian novelist Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan series, The Story of the Lost Child, and I enjoyed it so much I am ignoring my angry head to tell you about it.

Me circa 2000. Wishing I wasn't a muggle.
The author circa 2000. Wishing I wasn’t a muggle.

The Neapolitan novels follow the lives of two women, Lenu and Lila, who were born and raised in the slums of Napes in the 1950s. Through the lens of their friendship, Ferrante paints an intricate portrait of life and death that is impossible to not get swept up in. While reading the novels, my life became entwined in the loves and losses of the two girls. I ached with them and loved with them. I grieved with them and grew old with them. Thanks to the Ferrante’s skill as a writer, I peeked into the dusty corners of their lives and I saw myself.

The Story of the Lost Child (Neapolitan Novels, #4)The Story of the Lost Child by Elena Ferrante
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I am blown away by Elena Ferrante’s skill as a writer. The Neapolitan novels are some of the most honest and moving pieces of fiction I have read in years. These novels are about many things: friendship, loss, childhood, daughters, violence, politics, writing, reading, love, feminism, mothers, sex, education, Italy. Through the experiences of two Italian women, Elena Ferrante beautifully captures the complexity of human relationships and all of the suffering and joy they bring.

View all my reviews

Truly great novels offer distraction and connection at the same time. Truly great novels soothe broken hearts and aching heads. They offer nourishment, solace, and comfort. Truly great novels simply make life more bearable. My pain is powerful but so are words. They allow me to live many lives and they help me fall in love with my own.  And for that I am grateful.

“Books are mirrors: you only see in them what you already have inside you.”
― Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind