Anne of Green Gables

Last week, I got to pull a new series book from my book jar. If you follow me on Instagram, you know all about the book jar and its bounty. But to give you, my faithful blog readers, some background: I own so many books (110, last I counted) that I decided to put all their titles into a jar to pull from when I was ready for a new book. (Notice, I said “ready”, not “when I finished a book” because we all know you can finish a book and not be ready for another one for a while. Book Hangover, am I right?!) It’s a very exciting time when I get to pull a new book, especially a series, since I’m researching for my book these days (Twitter has much of my book happenings). Anywho, the book I pulled, and the one I wanted to talk about, was Anne of Green Gables.
The people I recommend it for aren’t kids by the way (though I totally think they should read the whole series beginning with book one at age fourteen, just a suggestion), I think overworked adults should read it. And that’s what this blog post is about.

I know, I know, you’re sitting there thinking, “But I’m overworked, that doesn’t imply I have time to read.” You’re right, you probably don’t have much time other than maybe a chapter here and there, but riddle me this! When you do have the time, would you rather read a 320 page novel about an imaginative girl, or a 1,200 page book about two families during a Russian war? (Not that I’m speaking from personal experience or anything although Tolstoy’s War and Peace is next on my research list, I will accept all forms of good vibes, thank you.) The one with the imaginative girl, right? Especially if you’re overworked, something fun and lighthearted is good for the soul. BE GOOD TO YOUR SOUL! Read Anne of Green Gables.

That’s the end of this blog post.

Haha, just kidding. But seriously, read a book about a girl who gets into trouble for smacking a boy over the head with her school slate, then says things like “‘Dear old world, I’m happy to be alive in you.’” Don’t you wanna feel that way? Who cares about telling your friends, “Oh yes, even though I work my butt off everyday I’m reading a dense novel written when the s’s were typed as f’s.” Suffering, shouldn’t be a goal or a competition. I’d be much more envious of the happy, contented person, than the busy, overworked one. Allow yourself to imagine as Anne does. Name the tree in your front yard, reminisce about your own schoolyard grudges, imagine. Cultivate your creative mind as you once did when you were a child. And cultivate it properly, no spooky things that will come to haunt you late at night (Trust. Me.). You don’t even have to share. Not at all, not nearly as much as Anne does. You can just play pretend inside yourself. Imagine great, wonderful things. They can be mundane, or fantastic. Allow yourself to think outside of your laundry list of to-do’s, or work, or whatever else it is that takes up precious head space. Your happy place exists in your mind, for you. Imagine what it looks like and allow it to exist.

Pablo Picasso once wrote, “We are all artists as children, the problem is to remain an artist as we grow up.” Don’t lose that artist. That artist is your inner child. Allow yourself to play.

Play, actually, is vital to humans. We play more than any other animal on the planet. Play allows us to figure out who we are and what we like. While as adults we may have a good grasp on these things, play is still important. There’s this fantastic book about play written by Stuart Brown, in which he says, “The truth is that play seems to be one of the most advanced methods nature has invented to allow a complex brain to create itself.” So there.

It’s ok to play. And it’s ok to feel like you’re playing. This could mean yoga, or fishing, or reading a children’s book that makes you fall in love with the main character’s imagination such as Anne of Green Gables. Anything you sincerely enjoy, you just have to allow yourself to enjoy it.

I have a feeling this post will be a sister to a post on Brown’s Play, so stay tuned.

Thanks for reading,


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s