Honey Bee Reading

“Intellectual training is an end in itself, and not a mere preparations for a trade or a profession.” -Samuel Butcher

A couple of months ago, I found myself thinking.

Dangerous, I know.

What was I thinking of? How the Star Wars prequel movies are a tragedy. I wanted to watch the movies and read the novelizations, and then, of all things, write an essay about the prequels being a tragedy.

I don’t think I’ve written an essay in 10 years, and the last proper writing assignment was about hair care and style in the 1920s when I was in Cosmetology school. This last writing assignment were more or less written like notes for the oral presentation.

Now, it isn’t like I haven’t touched a pen or keyboard since then. Those who know me personally will affirm that I’ve always loved stories, and that I have a strong desire to create. It was the dream for years to become that successful, published author known and beloved all over the world. But every once in a while, I feel an itch to write something different. Something… non-fiction.

You see, while I would consider myself a joyful person, there is also a side of me that is solemn and reflective. I often have days, or weeks, where I’ll ponder a question, pull it apart and put it back together, trying to look for answers from every angle. In fact, I spent 2024 pondering one question for an entire year! I put countless hours into the question, which at times brought me peace, at times made me cry, and at times filled my soul with a type of terror I’ve never known before. I had to look at myself: where I came from, what I value the most, and where I wanted to head in the future. This question ripped my very essence into pieces and I carefully had to stitch myself back together, piece by piece, to create a new me.

I loved this process so much that it is now my New Years intention to ask a new revolutionary question every year.

Another favorite pastime of mine is doing jigsaw puzzles. I love taking time to look at the details of each puzzle piece, and using that knowledge to slowly create the overall picture. This person’s feet, this dark corner, this wheel spoke, slowly turns into a carriage. As the road extends, I build up a door, and window, and a sign. And, oh? There’s a tree behind the newly finished candle shop, that extends into the fluffy clouds of the sky! This is the thinking process I have that tempted me to write the essay about the tragedy of Anakin Skywalker. To find those little puzzle piece details, those moments that carefully interlock together, that sent poor little Ani to become the feared Darth Vader.

So, like any rational person who loves to read and write, I bought a book about writing essays. Specifically, I bought a book about writing personal essays, because clearly the world revolves around me and how Star Wars has personally affected my life.

The book I ended up buying is Crafting the Personal Essay by Dinty W. Moore. In chapter 6, the author has us read the essay Leisure by Agnes Reppler. Now it was quite dated and dense. But we’re talking about me, the reader, who decided that I could handle The Count of Monte Christo in 6th grade. According to the reading comprehension test that my school required me to take when I finished a book, I actually understood a lot more than I thought at the time. So an essay a few pages long? Child’s play!

Agnes muses about the importance of leisure for the self, and for community and culture. This immediately spoke to me, as the sense of self and the sense of community have become core values of mine. But it wasn’t until she quoted the quote that opens this blog that it truly clicked for me. Certainly, I’ve done my duty to formal education. I’ve had 2 years of preschool, and completed all my primary grades. For secondary education, I attempted college twice, and I pursued a trade which I happily still work in.

And yet, I find much more joy and rest when I use my leisure time reading a book, or doing a puzzle, or sewing, or planning my farm on Stardew Valley, or anything that gently exercises the brain. Yet, I still reach out to my phone to scroll miles of social media, barely interacting with what I see, chasing a dopamine high, and then expect to leave that activity feeling refreshed. I’m a working donkey, chasing the carrot dangling in front of me. And yet when I finally bite the carrot it’s still not enough, because dammit, there’s more carrot left, and I feel like I worked my ass off to get that one unsatisfying bite. When my master finally releases me from my task I return to my stable to sleep in unjoyful exhaustion, having carved endless rows through the soil I don’t even glance at, and still frustrated I didn’t get the whole carrot.

Because, the truth of it is, leisure is only satisfying and refreshing when we actually engage with it. Leisure isn’t being a donkey, mindlessly carving rows into the soil as you chase a carrot in front of you. Leisure is becoming the gardener, staying in the moment of planting your seed and tenderly nourishing it to it’s full potential. Even the most casual leisure activities, such as a short walk, can boost your mood and encourage your growth as a person. I want to commit to deeply connecting with myself and community.

So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be waiting by my front door, waiting for thriftbooks.com to deliver my Star Wars novelizations, so that I can finally start to work on the essay I want to write in my leisure time.