I finally read Tuesdays with Morrie
"Death ends a life, not a relationship"
You know, lately some friends have been telling me they're having a tough time finishing the books they're reading. A lot of them kinda feel like it's their fault. And sure, sometimes maybe they are the problem — queue to playing *it’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me*— but other times, maybe what you need is just an easy read. Some books are like a warm hug, you know? They’re easier to read, they’re more comforting too. But other books, they’re just plain hard work. And sometimes, it’s all about the timing — some books are easier to read when the timing is right, and you’re *meant* to read them.
Sometimes it takes me months to read a book, and sometimes I finish two books in a few days. Last week was one of those weeks. I finished the Pathless Path, by Paul Millerd and Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom. The Pathless Path deserves its own post, so today we’re going to talk about Morrie.
The first time I heard about Tuesdays with Morrie was over a decade and a half ago. My best friend Reemaz, in Saudi, told me how she read this one, and Five People You Meet in Heaven — and how I should read them too. I’d mentally made a note, but as with some things, it slipped away.
Then, two years ago, a friend I’d been working on a project with recommended our whole team read it. Again, I made a note, and even looked for the book. I think I was traveling at the time, but maybe I wasn’t. I can’t quite remember. You can have all the recommendations in the world, but when the time’s not right, it’s not right.
I don’t remember when, but I remember walking into Kinokuniya, one of my favorite places in the world, last year. Kinokuniya always evokes joy. It’s my happy place. I got this book as a present for myself, along with a few other reads. I was ecstatic. And, while I’ve glanced at Tuesdays with Morrie and thought about reading it many times (and even picked it up once), I never actually got around to reading it.
You see, I have this habit of picking up books I want to read and keeping them for future reading. I’m very fond of my personal book collection, at home, and so whenever I want to read something, I simply walk up to my book shelves and browse my own collection. It always feels like a treat. This effort has taken years of effort. It’s something I’m so grateful for. Books are my happy place, so to have this safe, happy haven at home is important to me.
Back to reading this book, I started reading it after seeing a tweet that had an excerpt from it. I’ve lately been following my intuition with my interests and routine, and so I was intuitively guided to pick this book up and read it. I can’t believe it took me this long to read it. I love it so much. Gosh, I finished it in one reading. Couldn’t put it down (not even in the midst of baking and what not). Maybe it’s the phase of life I’m in, maybe it’s my heart and spirit, or maybe its the gentle, loving way Morrie and Mitch connect— Morrie’s wisdom came to me just when I needed it. There are so many bits I love, and cherish about this book. Hell, I’ve got 17 sticky notes, to bits of the book I’ve enjoyed!
If I wanted to share all the bits I loved, I’d practically re-share the whole book here. Please do read it, it’s an easy, short read. But it’s one of those, that changes you. You finish reading it and it feels like the world’s going on, but everything has changed. Because you’ve changed. I’m left with so many thoughts as I’ve returned it back to its shelf. On dying, on softness, on strength, on giving, on love, on friendships and what matters, on being alert and responsive to the things that interest us, on compassion, on being kind to yourself, and most importantly on living. Giving is living.
To live each day, asking ourselves will we die today? And, to be comfortable with the fact, that we can. To love freely, and to give freely. That we’ll be remembered by the love we give. That we live past our death, when we’re remembered, and through the love we gave in our lifetime. That chasing material growth and wins is a road to unhappiness. To say the words and show the affection we’re holding back. To forgive ourselves, and others. But most importantly ourselves. That death need not be morbid, and that your spirit can be alive and strong, even if your body isn’t. And the one sentence that I keep thinking about. Giving is living. Giving is living. Giving is living.
How fitting that I’d written this last week, but I’m publishing on a Tuesday.
We’re Tuesday people.