The love of stories has been deeply rooted for as long as I can remember. I received books as gifts for birthdays and Christmases and I remember seeing them swallow up the small space of the nightstand next to my father’s side of the bed. My mother often read to us, but one particularly strong memory is of her reading The Secret Garden to us when we were young in preparation for a wonderful treat: seeing the stage production as a family with my beloved grandmother. Later when we were older, we didn’t have television in the summer so I had to find something to pass the time on rainy summer days, and books were a great way to do that.I don’t remember reading much for fun during high school and college (as many people don’t). When traveling I would pick up a random book here or there and read on the beach or some airport. Reading was a hobby, but sporadic and completely random. I didn’t keep track of what I read and I certainly had no direction or purpose for it. But my love of reading was truly reignited when I moved to a new town not knowing a soul. A few weeks after moving, my husband and I had our first child. Now it makes no sense that I would start reading again within months of becoming a mother for the first time (you mothers can understand my thoughts here), but another discovery was quick to come: for those of us extroverts, motherhood for me could be exceptionally lonely.
Oh, please do not misunderstand me. I’ve known my whole life I wanted to be a mother. I love to hold them, cuddle them, snuggle and play with them. I loved teaching them new things (yes, I became a teacher because of it). During high school and college I taught dance classes to all ages at three different dance studios and babysat for any family that would hire me. When my husband and I got married, I couldn’t wait to stay at home with my kids. But, as I mentioned before, we moved to a new place and motherhood is wonderful and amazing and fun. And exhausting and worrisome and nerve-wracking. I am in charge of this little soul who is truly now mine. I was elated! I am doing what I was born to do!! But I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it.
I am thankful that I found a moms group that supported women in just our situation: veteran moms teaming up with new moms to help navigate the joys, trials and concerns of motherhood. From that group, I began to hear that other women we’re missing some of their old hobbies, one of which was reading. So, I decided to stick my neck out and ask if anyone would like to join a short-term book club. I was so thankful there were quite a few interested and I decided to launch our group. Be sure to check back, I’ll be telling you how I started my group!
There are many different ways to create your own Comfort Table, but I have found that one of the best ways is for you to start it yourself. I know, I know, some of you are already getting anxious and nervous and sweaty because you aren’t like me and you hate being the initiator. I get that. I can hear a particular friend of mine yelling at me right now, ” That is SO not something I could do! I hate initiating that kind of thing!” BUT, consider what you might gain. It might just be the thing you have been desiring for a very long time. It might just become one of the best parts of your story.
Have you ever created a group of people that you enjoy being around? If you haven’t yet, what would you like to be the focus of your group (i.e. books, dinner club, jewelry making, writing, etc.)?