I have this problem. I live in a two-room studio and have over a dozen towers of books nearly three feet high and shelves lining the walls. The too if my fridge has three stacks of books. Some have fallen behind the fridge. My desk’s too has an alcove made of books. I go to the library twice a week and buy five or six books for a dollar each. My daughter says I have a problem. I have over a hundred books I haven't read. I can't stop. And I don't want to. I love having all these stories and the abundance of knowledge just waiting for me.
Love books, especially old books that have that smell about them. Hilarious that I ordered a copy of The Subtle Art of Not Giving a … then here it pops up again in your piece. That book sure seems meant to find me.
Thanks for lighting up my inbox with a little laughter and inspiration.
I will never fault someone for having an abundance of books, read or unread. I'd be more concerned if your apartment were bereft of them!
I can't begin to describe the number of times a book has serendipitously helped shape a pivotal moment in my life. Just having books around, to flip through for inspiration or guidance, gives us a direct line of transmission from the universe. I, too, find myself buying books faster than I can read them -- but the possibility held within them, as you so eloquently state, is priceless.
(This idea of transmissions, waiting for us to hear them, is an idea from Rick Rubin, which I'm enamored with -- and learned because I happened to pick up his book, The Creative Act, in the airport a few months ago. In another case of coincidence, serendipity, fate, or omen, my newsletter tomorrow is directly inspired by that book.)
There is nothing as rich in terms of life experience as a book. So, living amidst them is better than being surrounded with gold. I feel your malady/gift too. My regret is not having read enough when I was working too much in Finance in my twenties. Now I know I'll never read all the major books I want, but I'll enjoy whatever I can whenever I can.
I'm toward the opposite end of the spectrum in that I want to purge all the books we don't read and never will. I recently re-homed 2 books that my dad got me as a gift in high school. They were signed by the author. I enjoyed the books and I love my dad and I treasure that memory, but I know I'm not going to read them again, so off they go to enrich someone else's life.
However, my husband is on your end of the spectrum.
After 12 years together, I've learned to just give up trying to drag him over to my side. We've been having a legendary argument for many years over a book he has on his shelf called "Chineasy". He got it in a Tim Ferris subscription box back when everyone was doing subscription boxes. It's a fun guide to learning written Chinese script.
My husband has no interest in learning foreign languages. None. He never has used the book and never will. I see it as a grand tragedy that this beautiful, valuable book sits on our shelf unused when it could be passed on to someone who will use it and love it. But that's his hill he has chosen to die on. We both work from home and have incredibly easy lives, so in an absence of real struggle, we create our own.
In our latest argument about the book, I raised the white flag. I have decided he will be buried with that book. The two of them were inseparable in this life and so shall they be in the next.
Thanks Pam! Your end of the spectrum is definitely the thoughtful one - big fan of the idea of books having a second life through enriching others.
The Chineasy argument is hilarious, as is your plan to bury your husband with it. Made me laugh out loud in a hotel room.
On a side note - the idea that you mentioned toward the end, that in the absence of real struggle we create our own, is quite insightful and something I've been thinking about a lot lately. Thanks for the thoughtful comment as always!
Googling “what sucks about [job title]?” may genuinely be some of the best career searching advice I’ve ever heard.
Right? Need to integrate that into career services curriculum.
I have this problem. I live in a two-room studio and have over a dozen towers of books nearly three feet high and shelves lining the walls. The too if my fridge has three stacks of books. Some have fallen behind the fridge. My desk’s too has an alcove made of books. I go to the library twice a week and buy five or six books for a dollar each. My daughter says I have a problem. I have over a hundred books I haven't read. I can't stop. And I don't want to. I love having all these stories and the abundance of knowledge just waiting for me.
Amen!
Love books, especially old books that have that smell about them. Hilarious that I ordered a copy of The Subtle Art of Not Giving a … then here it pops up again in your piece. That book sure seems meant to find me.
Thanks for lighting up my inbox with a little laughter and inspiration.
Nice! It's an excellent book. Hope you find some useful nuggets in there.
I will never fault someone for having an abundance of books, read or unread. I'd be more concerned if your apartment were bereft of them!
I can't begin to describe the number of times a book has serendipitously helped shape a pivotal moment in my life. Just having books around, to flip through for inspiration or guidance, gives us a direct line of transmission from the universe. I, too, find myself buying books faster than I can read them -- but the possibility held within them, as you so eloquently state, is priceless.
(This idea of transmissions, waiting for us to hear them, is an idea from Rick Rubin, which I'm enamored with -- and learned because I happened to pick up his book, The Creative Act, in the airport a few months ago. In another case of coincidence, serendipity, fate, or omen, my newsletter tomorrow is directly inspired by that book.)
Ah, I love the idea of transmissions. Hadn't encountered it before. Very relevant!
There is nothing as rich in terms of life experience as a book. So, living amidst them is better than being surrounded with gold. I feel your malady/gift too. My regret is not having read enough when I was working too much in Finance in my twenties. Now I know I'll never read all the major books I want, but I'll enjoy whatever I can whenever I can.
Well said!
Well-written as always!
I'm toward the opposite end of the spectrum in that I want to purge all the books we don't read and never will. I recently re-homed 2 books that my dad got me as a gift in high school. They were signed by the author. I enjoyed the books and I love my dad and I treasure that memory, but I know I'm not going to read them again, so off they go to enrich someone else's life.
However, my husband is on your end of the spectrum.
After 12 years together, I've learned to just give up trying to drag him over to my side. We've been having a legendary argument for many years over a book he has on his shelf called "Chineasy". He got it in a Tim Ferris subscription box back when everyone was doing subscription boxes. It's a fun guide to learning written Chinese script.
My husband has no interest in learning foreign languages. None. He never has used the book and never will. I see it as a grand tragedy that this beautiful, valuable book sits on our shelf unused when it could be passed on to someone who will use it and love it. But that's his hill he has chosen to die on. We both work from home and have incredibly easy lives, so in an absence of real struggle, we create our own.
In our latest argument about the book, I raised the white flag. I have decided he will be buried with that book. The two of them were inseparable in this life and so shall they be in the next.
Thanks Pam! Your end of the spectrum is definitely the thoughtful one - big fan of the idea of books having a second life through enriching others.
The Chineasy argument is hilarious, as is your plan to bury your husband with it. Made me laugh out loud in a hotel room.
On a side note - the idea that you mentioned toward the end, that in the absence of real struggle we create our own, is quite insightful and something I've been thinking about a lot lately. Thanks for the thoughtful comment as always!
This turned out so well man. *chef's kiss*