Bookstores are my getaway; a place I go to feel fully myself.
It’s a sanctuary, it’s quiet, it smells good.
I don’t have to talk to anybody, and there’s plenty of information, entertainment, stories, advice to manage whatever I can’t manage.
I am a self-help aisle kind of girl, I always have been, and I predict that I always will be – even years before I decided to become a therapist, years before I could embrace self or soul awareness, I knew I loved the feel of those aisles, I knew it felt like me.
To this day I can go to a book store for hours, sit on the floor and look through old books that helped me way back when, while simultaneously searching for something new, a new author, idea, or aha.
I often worry that all the bookstores will go away. I love and appreciate Amazon like the rest of the world, but I know its convenience makes the small (and even big) bookstore somewhat obsolete.
The library has its obvious perks (no $$ involved, well actually I tend to accrue a lot of late fees, so there is some $$ involved), but when I find a book I love, I need to own it.
I write in it, underline it, fold the pages, make notes. I have a full-on conversation with the book as I move through it.
I got a Kindle a few years ago; everyone told me how much I would love it. It didn’t work for me, so I gave it back to my mom. The technology is amazing, and who knows, I may go back to it, but I prefer holding my books and putting them on my shelves.
Mostly because I love to look at them, and remember – remember what I was going through when I bought it, remember the way it made me feel, remember who gave it to me as a gift (and who I have since given it to).
Books fill my office with a sense of history and growth, a way that I chart my adult years. They remind me that I have another book living inside of me, and my dream is that it’s something elegant and meaningful like Gift from the Sea, something that is as relevant today as the year it was written.
But until then, I continue to be inspired by the books that are already out there, to walk the aisles with a sense of gratitude and belonging, and appreciate the different paths and different ways to teach lessons, to share a story, to live a life.