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Hello friends,
The day began with a simple statement on my list of chores for the week.
“Sort books.”
That sounds easy enough to do—unless you’re a bibliophile or a hoarder. I don’t mind the bibliophile label. I’ve been collecting books since I was old enough to hold one.
Stacks of Little Golden Books lived in the nooks of my headboard with dolls and yellow vinyl records. I have one book left from that early collection.
My Mother’s hands, freshly manicured, turned the pages as I held onto every word fascinated by the letters and spaces I had yet to understand. As I learned to read, I sat for hours reading and rereading those stories, rhymes, and magical tales.
But hoarder? Not me. When I started pulling books from where they perched since we moved to this house nearly twenty years ago, lost titles and tons of dust emerged.
Giving books a new home is not alien to me. Books about child-rearing left long ago as did my children. I unloaded diet books and cookbooks when I decided neither was my core strength.
The challenge I faced now meant letting go of a profession, my life’s work for over thirty years. The titles trace my path from teaching language, literature, and writing to fiesty thirteen-year-olds to training teachers and administrators.
When I began working with organizations, I studied education and business systems, processes, continuous improvement, and leadership. Over a hundred books littered the floors and shelves as I relived moments.
Tucked away on the shelves, I also found books from my childhood, a second-grade catechism and one of my first readers, high school Latin and German texts, and required summer reading books. Lost in the mix, I uncovered my grandmother’s Catholic catechism with her name and the date, 1907.
My Mother kept the book, How You Were Born hidden on the top shelf of a closet. I finally snuck it down to read without getting caught. That was an education!
Some of these oldies will go, others will remain. I can’t say for sure, yet. The sentimental memories do not easily let go.
The bibliophile me found a new spot on the shelves for the most treasured books. My recovering hoarder self created piles to discard, resell, or donate to schools and charities.
The books that shaped and continue to inspire me remain for me to revisit. My collection of picture books expands while I study how to write for children (besides, I like them). Photography and writing craft books take center stage.
The inflow of books never ceases. Something new to learn, understand, or enjoy always waits for me because . . .
“…the feel of the coarse pages under my fingertips delights my consciousness, the sudden sprinkling of syllables, the black-and-white letters in various patterns, coalescing to find their way directly to my heart. It’s magic.”
—Zibby Owen
Feeling down? Need inspiration? Want to escape this world? Books can help. When my sister passed, it took me 20 books and 11 months to find what matters.
I learned two words specific to book hoarders. In Japanese, if you hoard books but don’t read them, you’re a tsundoku. If you’re collecting has crossed over to the more obsessive level, Wikipedia has another word, bibliomania.
I scoured my music archives for a few bookish tunes from the past: “The Book of Love” by the Monotones, “Paperback Writer” by the Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel’s “Bookends,” a brief but haunting melody, and a discovery, “The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel.
“I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.”
― Jorge Luis Borges
Find a little wonder this week sitting in a garden full of flowers with your favorite book.
With gratitude,
Kathryn
PS: Don’t ask about my Kindle!
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Bibliophile or hoarder?
Hello fellow bibliophile! I’m a huge book lover and have seen books come and go from my life. The move to Finland saw me release many of my beloved books into the world for others to enjoy. I now find myself collecting more... 🤔😃✨