Giving up the "help"

About a month ago, I reluctantly accepted a book from my mom named "The Help" by Kathryn Stockett. I use the word "reluctantly" because I usually dread when Mom shares a book with me. Not because I don't enjoy the book, but because Mom will usually ask me (over and over) if I started it or what I think of it, when I haven't even had a minute to open it.  It usually finds its way to my "Nightstand of Novels" where it waits in line with all the others.

I talked to you about this nightstand a while ago, remember? Back in August, when I came to terms with the fact that I wasn't going to complete any of my summer reading.  Nothing has changed with my nightstand since that post, except my stack of books has grown by three or four, creating even more pressure to find time in this chaotic life to read. I really do enjoy reading, but I just have had a hard time finding time to do it.

Then, it happened.

That "Ah-ha!" moment.

All while dusting my nightstand of novels. 

You see, it appears that many of the books on my nightstand are "Self-Help" books. You know the type . . . .books about finding happiness, books about finding yourself, books about accepting yourself, books about being positive, books about having peace, finding peace, keeping peace. All of it. You name it, I have it. Just sitting there. Collecting dust.

It's not as if I haven't tried to read. I've picked up so many of these "help" books from time to time and read a page or two, maybe even a chapter or two. But I usually get lost somewhere between the lines and back it goes, to the bottom of the stack, until it's next up in rotation. I usually tell myself, "Oh, I'm just not ready to find that 'peace' in my life right now. Maybe later."

All of  sudden it hit me. You may remember that PG is out of town on business this week, so I'm solo on the home front with the girlies. It's been a fantastic week with them . . . focused and organized, productive and peaceful (no worries, remember?). Tuesday evening, I visited that nightstand to dust it off, when my eye caught the stack. Right on top was a book about coming to terms with not being perfect. Underneath it, "The Help".

All of a sudden . . . 

Ah-Ha!!!!

Maybe I need "The Help" . . . but not all of the "help".

Get it?

Maybe I'm not doing so bad, afterall. Maybe it's time to move all those self-help books to the book shelf, and clear up the nightstand for some good ol'fashion novels. Not the kind that are trying to change me. Not the kind that are trying to improve me. Perhaps I don't need to change. I mean, I'm happy. Really. Do I need to read a book about making myself "HAPPIER"? If I get any happier . . . I'm going to be even more annoying than I already am.

Maybe that's why I haven't been reading this year . . . because my selection of reading has turned into a therapists waiting room. Perhaps, just perhaps, I give myself a break for a little and stop trying to IMPROVE myself. (Back to that whole "embracing" myself.) Maybe just EMBRACE . . . .  and stop reading about how to do it.

So, Tuesday evening, I moved the "help" books, and opened up "The Help".

The book is incredible.

I can't put it down. I'm at page 243 . . . and found myself waking up at 3AM today wanting to read some more. Can you believe it? Thanks, Mom. You were right . . . I am enjoying it so very much.

I am happy.

And I didn't need a "self-help" book to get me there. 

Any ah-ha moment in your days recently? Share it in the comments . . . I'd love to know.