Sunday, August 5, 2012

Intimate



I have a dear friend that lent me a book that is dear to her, WHEN WOMEN WERE BIRDS, by Terry Tempest Williams. This is the first TTW book I've read, as I am not one to enjoy reading about nature, much as I love experience it, I do not like reading about it. Sorry. This friend insisted I would enjoy this particular book, and so I read it.

Loved it.

Still didn't like the parts where she describes nature.

Loved the parts where she forayed into her own psyche, and even more interestingly, into the mysteries of her mother that died and bequeathed all her journals to her. They were blank. All of them. Her mother made a point of telling Terry she was leaving her her journals, but not a single one had writing in them. The rest of the book is Terry's attempt to come to terms with that and understand what the journals were and weren't. Fascinating.

What is also fascinating, is that my friend marked in the book lines that really struck her - passages, thoughts, ideas, perspectives. I got to know my friend in a way I hadn't before, and we've known each other for twelve years.

When we understand what matters to our loved ones, we understand them better. Thanks, Terry Tempest Williams, for helping me do just that.

2 comments:

terry said...

LOVE it!

fullsoulahead.com said...

I heard about this book. I wonder about that mother and her intentions. I hope they were good.