This was just going to be a short post to say that I have, on this day, finished reading Anna Karenina (by Leo Tolstoy, not that I really need to state that), but, as it turns out, I’m not very good at writing short posts (surprise, surprise). Still, I’ll try to keep this kind of short, or at least not terribly long. (It’s less than 700 words – does that count?)
No spoilers here – just some general comments, and quotes from other sources.
I’ve been considering doing a sort of recap post about things I’ve blogged about this year. I thought about writing something to highlight various posts that have meant a lot to me, or that I felt were important, or that were just quite popular. But then I thought that that sort of post seemed kind of pointless, since my archives are easily searchable, and I’m not really sure which posts to include anyway. (And who would read a whole post about other posts?)
When I did a quick browse through before, I pulled up a few candidates perhaps worth re-blogging, perhaps worth a mention, but I think the one post that I’m most glad about writing was a simple sound.
That post didn’t have the greatest number of views, comments or likes, but, for me, it was one of the more significant things I wrote this year. In addition to all my Meditations posts, that post captures the sort of mentality I want to keep with me in the coming year. But not just for New Year – I want to carry it into tomorrow, the next day, and so forth.
I was out in the city last week to do some Christmas shopping. And by “Christmas shopping” I mean that I had to buy one gift for my workplace Secret Santa. Shouldn’t be hard, right? Well, no, not usually, except that it was really busy and crowded everywhere. Plus I don’t overly like shopping to begin with.
After browsing through a few shops, feeling my patience diminishing, I retreated into a book store. Books make good presents, right? That was my pretence for going in there, but, really, it just felt more tranquil in the book store than out there, even if there were a lot more people than usual in the book store as well.
I’m nearing the end of Anna Karenina – I’ve got less than 100 pages to go – and it saddens me so much to know that I must come to the end of this novel that has not only kept me company but comforted me and taught me various things over the last few months. I know I can always just re-read it, and I probably will one day, but there are so many other books I want to read that I’m sure it will be a very, very long time before I do.
The other day when I was reading (probably on the bus on the way to work), I paused for a moment, and looked at the book in my hands – I had the book open, but I was looking at the actual book, not the words on its pages. It brought a sad smile to my face to see how few pages remained in my right hand, while my left hand held all the chapters I’d already read. It was a bittersweet feeling.
I think I mentioned somewhere in a previous post that I wanted to write separate posts for each of the main characters (or, I suppose, for the ones I consider to be main characters) but I wasn’t sure if I would follow through with that idea. I’m still not sure if I will, but, at the very least, I wanted to write one for Levin – Konstantin Dmitrich Levin. [If you choose to read on, please note that there will be spoilers in this post.] Continue reading
You probably all know the expression “no use crying over spilt milk” or some variation of it, right? Well, whenever I hear it, I think of this one time in my childhood when I actually did cry over spilt milk – not just figuratively speaking, but literal spilt milk and literal crying.
I was quite young at the time (maybe six? maybe four?) and it would’ve been at home one day, in the kitchen. I really don’t remember the circumstances surrounding it, but I remember there was milk spilt, and for some reason I was really upset and cried.
It’s been a while since I did a Meditations post. You could be forgiven for thinking that I’d forgotten or finished with them (you could also be forgiven for forgetting about them altogether). But, no, the book still sits prominently on my desk, and I still flip through it from time to time. Various passages also flit around my mind every so often, and I try to remind myself of the things that I learnt from these writings of Marcus Aurelius.