I love physical books—the tactile feel of the paper and weight of their hard or soft covers. I have a ‘backlog’ of them waiting to be read. I’ve got entertainment cabinet spaces dedicated to the ones I’d like to crack open next. I looked at them yesterday and though, “Soon. Soon… I hope.”
The problem is, I’ve been reading less. The time between finishing my current ones and starting the new is widening. I’ve only loosely maintained my morning reading and writing ritual for the past month or two; often skipping it entirely.
On a good morning, I’d bring a beanbag lounge ‘chair’ onto the side deck facing the warm, rising sun, plop down into it, and then pause for a moment to appreciate the blackbirds hopping around the grass, listening for the vibration of worms underground.
There, I’d bring the day’s book of choice with me and a red gel pen for drawing tiny little arrows in the margins that point towards particularly thought-provoking insights, stories, or quotes (my new, unobtrusive version of ‘highlighting’). I’d typically sit and read until I got to the end of the next chapter or until I got bored; sometimes switching to a second book for a few more minutes before heading back inside for work.
I haven’t been making much progress though, so I’ve seen the same book covers on the counter looking at me with pleading spines, begging to be opened again, while the ones in the cabinet are wondering when I’ll finally be ‘done’ with these so that I can move onto them. Low sleep and higher stress have definitely been a key routine killer, but that’s a whole topic for another day. What came to me this morning was a self-taught reminder that variability matters.
I generally like or, at least, appreciate the non-fiction books I had started months back, THINKING, FAST AND SLOW and INSIDE MERCEDES F1; the latter not being a high-effort read compared to the former. However, somewhere along the way I had lost the sense of wonder and intrigue that would typically compel me to move forward; covering ten to twenty pages per day.
Rummaging around the entertainment cabinet for AAA batteries broke me out of the monotony. There, below the brown little wicker basket holding an assortment of mixed-sized batteries, were my books-in-queue. Some of these I had previously started too, but paused to change things up, and so I wondered, why not do this again?
I’m not lying when I say I felt a wave of gleeful joy rise up my arm as my fingers grasped the hulking paperbacked body of TRIBE OF MENTORS to pull it back out. I had apparently read a third of it before retiring it to the shelf; knowing one day I’d return to its interviews again. Today was that day.
I’m not “done” with the other two books I had started; I’m taking a break. I’m stepping away for a while until I feel the desire to return for their insights and stories; they’ll still be there—books like these don’t melt or get deleted from inactivity.
How happy of a morning this had been now! Something fresh to read! Something new to ponder! Something to motivate sleeping earlier, so I can wake up with an eagerness to read more!
Let’s just ignore how I did not actually end up reading any of the ‘new’ book because I ended up pausing one-page into it to write this post hahaha. Instead, just know that tomorrow I’ll be looking forward to reading again.
