I’ve decided to start reading one of the hundreds of books I actually own, instead of always running to the library. Novel idea I know, but after packing up more boxes of books that anything else I own (even china, which is another vice) I thought it was time for me to read them. I decided to grab The Bell Jar and head to bed. As an English major I’ve of course heard of Plath, but never read her. It was not at all the time period that I expected, but I LOVE IT!!! There is a similar sense of waywardness that reminds me a lot of Salinger, but the female perspective makes it far more relateable. I instantly felt I understood her plight.
There was one paragraph that stood out to me. Although I’m settled in my life now, I completely related to it as a 20 something and there are parts that still ring true in my heart:
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
I read it over and over, at peace that someone else out there understood my heart. When I finished school I had so many opportunites before me and in fear of missing out on one, I attempted to grab all. Instead of them all dying though, I’d try one for a bit and then think the one on the other branch looked so much better, etc… Life is full of so many choices and I need to learn to be content in the ones I make. Now, that I’m “eating my fig,” I need to reach out to the other closest to me and closest to my heart and not fret about the ones on the higher, presently unattainable branches. This I guess is an addendum to my last post.