I love our local library. Some days I wish I could stay here... live here. It's like in the Sound of Music when Maria returns to the Abbey and begs to stay and become a nun so she can avoid the dilemma of being in love with Captain Von Trapp. The Reverend Mother says to her, "Our Abbey is not to be used as an escape... These walls were not built to shut out problems. You have to face them. You have to live the life you were born to live."
Of course, she is right. You must live the life you are destined to live with hope, energy, purpose, positivity, determination, perseverance, resolve, and gratitude.
And I do... most of the time; or at least I try to.
Still it seems the strong impulse to hide, to escape, to shield ourselves from the world outside is powerful at times, especially when it all just gets to be too much. When it feels like so much is being asked of us, demanded of us, and expected of us, and we just aren't sure if we have the fortitude or grace to face it on any particular day.
My Abbey on a day like that (on a day like this) is the library. A safe, comfortable and beautiful place to just sit, write, read, learn, and get completely immersed in the endless supply of books. A place where I wish I could read and write until my heart's content, with no time limits, deadlines, or bedtimes.
I know I can't live here. I can't even visit here for more than a few minutes at a time, or without a kid in tow, between all of life's commitments. Still, it's my sweet dream I dream as I sit here in silence, reading a book or writing my thoughts down and relishing a moment to shut out the noisy world for a while.
Time spent here is fast and fleeting, and it will be over soon, at least for today, when I must begrudgingly put my bookmark back in the crease of my book, gather up my son and the books he wants to check out, and face the remainder of the day, and the coming days, until I can make my next library escape.