Looking at the library from the comfort of your car, it’s a mix of old and new, concrete, glass and cedar wood. Impressive you think, but question who had the great idea of using cedar wood in Ireland. Reminding yourself you have to cross that concrete bridge to its entrance. Anxiety starts to build within you. Telling yourself to ‘Walk quickly across the middle and don’t look down.’ Remembering the building suspended overhead you gasp – ‘Don’t look up either, listen for creaks and if you hear any, RUN!
You walk to the door but it doesn’t open automatically. You see the push pad and touch its coolness as you press. Thinking, what a good idea – not having a two-tiered system. A hum of noise hits your ears. ‘Is this not a library? Is full silence not a requirement? Where is the reception? Should it not be near the door?’ Questions invade you. The smell of paper hits you just then. You breathe in its very essence, hints of vanilla, smoky, earth. There’s a name for it; something to do with the bible, you try and remember as you think of the trees. ‘Ah yes, the smell of wood, pulp? ‘Bibliosmia?’ You questioned yourself, ‘Am I a bibliophile? Perhaps I am,’ you answered.
Turning left you are reminded of silence as you notice the sensory room, calmness overcomes you as you see guardians alongside children that surround the room. A lady is teaching sign language as her mouth sounds out the words communicating simultaneously. ‘SimCom,’ that’s the name for that. ‘Stop using abbreviations,’ you tell yourself. ‘Not when you know the word, it’s not fair on people who don’t know, aren’t you always screaming at the news when they do it, both abbreviations and acronyms, not forgetting ‘text’ speak, use the proper words, have consideration for others, ‘simultaneous communication’ that is the proper term.’ The nerves that were forgotten for two minutes while you were arguing with yourself suddenly returned. You scold yourself for being so nervous when the little children can face learning a different way of communication.
The class was a way to meet new people. A chance to play with beautiful words, turning them upside down and inside out all under the guidance of a best-selling author. ‘Get on with it’ you tell yourself as you see the reception desk and approach with gusto.
Directed in kindness, you make your way down the hall. Your fingers on one hand fiddle with the pen and your thumb on the other glides along the journal you carry. You stop suddenly and check to see where you put your car keys. Two steps further, the question of the parking ticket sounds in your brain. The phone, ‘put it on silent’ you tell yourself with your inner loud voice as you fumble with the switch on its side. The usual ritual on every outing you take.
A wall of glass marked ‘Creative Space’ greets you, you’re breathing almost stops with panic. You mutter under your breath, ‘Nerves are good.’ You turn right, then left through a door and left immediately through another. There she waits. Your new acquaintance, the best-selling author. Only you and her within the warm room as she greets you with a friendly smile. Fear melts away.
