Surrounded By Books
Photo by Radu Marcusu on Unsplash
I am surrounded by written words. I consistently find my bookshelves overflowing and I have to find new nooks and crannies to stash my treasures. Friends have told me I can trade my books in at used book stores, but a sense of betrayal keeps me from doing so. Books are magical creatures, and I can’t just trade them in for something new.
I know I have too many, but it is a guilty pleasure I allow myself. I’ve always dreamed of having a library in my home. Floor to ceiling shelves, a ladder on tracks that wheels me around to different sections, new worlds. I feel even more guilty that I haven’t read all these books, and many… MANY have bookmarks in them midway through. The place I abandoned them for a different story, a fresh topic, a new adventure.
I keep them around because they make me feel happy, secure somehow. They are organized on shelves and in various rooms by topic, like a real library. Part of the process of rearranging my house is rearranging where the books live.
If one were to pay attention, they could witness the various phases of my life based on the arrangement of books in my home. Spiritual discovery, interest in memoirs, westerns from my childhood, how to be a better leader, healing through herbal medicine, short stories to help me understand how to write them, instructional books on writing, and so on. When I am interested in something I can become obsessed for months; reading, learning, reaching for answers to questions I don’t know I have.
So, though it may not be practical and I don’t read as much as I feel like I should, I’ll keep my trove of books around, scattered all about the house. Life is about the simple pleasures after all.