My book-whisperer thing (it’s my most favorite superpower) helped me find Leanne Shapton’s Swimming Studies last week.
I’m not a swimmer. I know how to swim, but I’ve never, not once, tried to swim faster than someone else. Leanne Shapton swims faster than most people and has been competing since before she was a teenager. Her book is about swimming, but it’s about so much more.
I started it on a plane ride out of town Monday and will finish it tonight before I fall asleep. On the flight home yesterday, I read the following passage over and over again:
I think about something the psychologist Adam Phillips wrote: “Our excesses are the best clues we have to our own poverty; and our best way of concealing it from ourselves.”
This line won’t let me go. OUR EXCESSES ARE THE BEST CLUES WE HAVE TO OUR OWN POVERTY.
Books. Magazines. Journals. Words. Words. More words.
Right now I have the latest from Parnassus’s first edition book club, Erika Mark’s new release, The Mermaid Collector, five magazines that I’ve bought this week and two that came in the mail today, all stacked on my kitchen table.
There’s also my nightstand. My office. The kitchen counter space over beside my husband’s laptop. All filled with my excesses.
The clue to my poverty. My best way of concealing it from myself.
It’s right there–my poverty–the key to my kingdom. Right on the tip of my tongue. It’s like that dream you had last night, the one you know happened, but just can’t remember.
What are your excesses? Any clues to your poverty? (Any clues to mine???)