Crash Book

 

 

Crash Book is the second of my former therapist Marlene Denessen’s books that I was delighted to discover online and read. My curiosity was peaked by the title and cover image depicting a closeup of a deer head. It turns out, the book documents her healing journey after being seriously injured in a car accident involving a deer on Route 195 in Massachusetts.

Published in 2022, this book is a pretty handy resource filled with practical advice for developing a meditation practice. It contains anecdotes that humanize the experience for those of us just beginning. Marlene’s voice is straightforward, nonjudgmental, and rings with clarity. Her salt-of-the-Earth guidance is easy to understand and incorporates background information about mindfulness and wellbeing. 

For example, here is a quote from Marc Hiles of the Iona Center that is so relatable. “We are overdosed on data and underfed on the mysterious. Our brains inflate while our souls wither.” 

I need to be especially cognizant of not drowning my brain while my soul remains thirsty. This concept also brings to mind a beautiful word I learned from Susan Cain, the author of Quiet. “NUMINOUS” means mysterious, spiritual, enchanting, mystical, bewitching.

In Crash Book, Marlene talks about what she calls the “passing show” or the daily distractions that inevitably compete for our attention during meditation. She matter of factly counsels us to recognize the passing show, pay it no mind, and redirect our focus on the breath and the process of clearing our heads. She also references the Buddhist term for this inner chatter, “monkey mind” of which I am most definitely afflicted!

The Measure / The Serviceberry

The Measure by Nikki Erlick is probably going to scare the shit out of me, but I can’t resist. This book became available through CLAMS on May 5, and like a moth to a flame, I clicked borrow.  When my teacher friend Elaine talked about it a couple of years ago, I was intrigued, but I was still working and didn’t have as much time to read as I do now. 

Earlier this year, I read Here One Moment, thinking that was the book Elaine had recommended. The premise of people knowing when they will die is similar but handled in very different ways. I have dissected that book on this blog. 

Naturally, all the books I have on hold are ready at the same time, and last night I began reading The Serviceberry by Robin Wall Kimmerer, author of the more well-known Braiding Sweetgrass. Probably, I will become either totally frustrated or wholly enlightened trying to read these two books at the same time. Let’s see how this plays out.

I’m still slogging away on The Measure but last night (5/21/25) I finished The Serviceberry. The book’s subtitle says it all really: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World. It’s appropriate that I finished reading this tiny book during a time when I’m losing patience with the clown in charge of our country and the posse of idiots he has surrounded himself with as they wreak havoc on the environment and the common good.

Turns out my dual reading experiment worked out nicely as I finished The Measure today (5/22/25). The books, despite being very different, are oddly complimentary. Both brought in elements of current events and the politics of humanity. 

All Fours

I really need to become more discerning in my choices of reading material. Information overload and overwhelm is real, especially these days when I let myself ponder how few years I realistically have left I know that sounds dark, but it’s just reality. I probably shouldn’t have wasted my precious time reading All Fours by Miranda July, but once I made it halfway, I was committed to completion.

I also probably should’ve recognized the sexual connotation in the title too, but again, no, I missed that clue and was taken aback a little bit when the book lurched into full-blown soft-porn as the main character awkwardly explores her sexuality and questions her life choices. 

In case you’re thick like me, toward the end of the book you’ll be treated to this pearl of wisdom, “Everyone thinks doggy style is so vulnerable…but it’s actually the most stable position. Like a table. It’s hard to be knocked down when you’re on all fours.” So says the unnamed protagonist’s long-suffering artist friend when describing her sculpture of a green marble, headless woman on her hands and knees! And by long-suffering, I’m referencing her putting up with her annoyingly, self-indulgent 45 year old friend throughout the entire book.

I wish I could recall how this book came to be on the long list of selections I wait patiently for on Libby. Could have been the Titcomb’s newsletter or New York Times bestseller lists. If I could remember, I’d avoid future recommendations from that source.

It’s never good when you can’t wait to finish reading a book, hoping all along a tornado comes along and wipes out all the characters or they all die in a house fire. No such luck. I finally made it to the end and was left scratching my head. Somehow the irritating main character was still going, like a demented Energizer Bunny, leaving a trail of devastation and confusion in her wake.