THE SPECIAL JOYS OF SUPER-SLOW READING
Once more, super-slow reading had given me not only pleasure but perspective, and helped me in my everyday affairs.
I discovered its worth years ago, in the infamous Changi prisoner-of-war camp in Singapore. I was 19, an artillery sergeant, when the city fell to the Japanese on February 15, 1942.
Waiting with other Australian POWs to be marched off, I tried to decide what I should take in the single pack permitted. The only limit was what a weary man could carry the 17 miles to Changi. Our officer thoughtfully suggested, "Each man should find room for a book."
So I stuffed into my pack a copy of Lin Yutang's "The Importance of Living" -- a title of almost macabre appropriateness -- and began a reading habit that was to keep me sane for the next three and a half years. Previously, if I had been really interested in a book, I would race from page to page, eager to know what came next. Now, I decided, I had to become a miser with words and stretch every sentence like a poor man spending his last dollar.
A wonderful article I tripped across on the Net years ago. I'm glad it's still available. I carry it in my LifeDrive.
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