I'm slow, rejoicing

At times I wonder if I cannot read. I am slow at it, and the words dissolve quite gradually, mixing in with any thoughts that might occupy my mind at a time. In this way, I try to encounter the author on his own terms, but I'm positive that many of my own thoughts impose upon the text. It's perplexing when a mind finds itself thinking in so many directions at once. The body slows down because it knows full well that so much of its energy is focused on internal matters. 

In some instances, this is helpful.

In others, it is problematic, lacking a certain discipline. 

Even still, I find that I find that I rejoice in the thoughts that connect. I'm all about making a connection.