Reading Lesson

I packed two books for my trip to Mammoth: Then Again by Diane Keaton and The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo.  Diane was depressing the ish out of me (it's hard for me to read about actors making it quickly and not knowing how lucky and fortunate they are.) so I switched over to my second book which I've read before.

The Alchemist is our latest book club pick, which I wasn't too pleased about.  I was bummed because I had to read something I've already read, but after a couple of chapters I realized that book changed on me. The last time I read it I was a young actress, green and enamored/terrified with Los Angeles and my dream. This time I'm six plus years in...I'm cynical, weary and beat DOWN so this book about the pursuit of dreams is opening my eyes in a whole new way.

I swear I never made it passed the first page's message when I originally read it. I just remember relating to the main character because he wanted to pursue his dreams...he wasn't scared of them like the others' he would meet on his travels. The end.

That's ALL I really related to. This time I'm relating to the middle of the book...the part where all the crap starts to happen...the parts where he's decided life is way easier than the pursuit of his dream so he settles for a job that pays well and will keep him comfortable.

It's funny...I was reading the book in the car and it wasn't making sense at all. At one point I turned to Jersey and said, "This book is trying to tell me something deep, but my brain just doesn't want to wrap around it right now."

Then yesterday my friend Diva D asked me if I'd like to go to an improv class with her. I declined because I had to work out and I had to grocery shop and write and clean and do laundry....

The light bulbs went off; then popped fuses and sparks flew everywhere ...(that's how HUGE my aha moment was) I figured out I'm  totally chillin in the crystal shop...and all that deep ish I just couldn't wrap my brain around was suddenly clear as rain.

Needless to say I wasn't thrilled to learn that truth. If you would have asked me before what I thought of The Alchemist I would have told you it was a beautifully sweet story about a boy going after his dream...Now I'd tell you it's a frickin nightmare cautionary tale...sent to the masses to scare the living poop out of us.

Funny how books find find books..and messages find you maybe not necessarily when you want them, or when you think you need them, but when they frickin randomly want to.


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