I own a lot of books. They are the belongings I care most about: the physical, paper kind, because I can’t get on board with a Kindle, and rarely finish an audiobook. I want to be surrounded by the books I’ve read, am reading, and want-to-but-may-never read. Last week, I packed and unpacked my life into my Subaru and my boss’ minivan, drove twenty minutes to a new apartment, and spent hours sorting through my books, reminiscing about the various phases of literature I’ve gone through.
My dad told me throughout college to try ideas like clothes on; I did, and still do, and that is reflected in the books I own. My shelves are mostly nonfiction, but with at least 27 novels, and thematically span everything from spirituality to cultural commentaries, a dash of politics, some ecology, a few collections of poetry and other literary greats. The content of many of my books share similar points of view, and many of them don’t at all. I’m proud of the ideological diversity I’ve tried to cultivate, and for this reason refuse to get rid of any, no matter how silly or cringey some of the titles are. The books I’ve read are what have shaped me; I would not be who I am without them. (Actually, I did get rid of two books I had on the raw-food cleansing lifestyle that were food fear-mongering diet propaganda that I don’t need to see on my shelf.)
. .
It is so easy to reject versions of our younger selves, especially when we look back on those versions with the wisdom of now, and can’t help but shudder at how naive or embarrassing we were. What we believed in the past may not be what we believe now, and the opinions we held at the end of high school have hopefully shifted by now, at least a little. Usually, we are actually quite bad at predicting the future, and thus projecting that we will always think a certain way or subscribe to a set of beliefs becomes, frankly, a crap shoot. There is no reliable way to predict what is to come in our lives, and who we will be or how we will think within that context.
In sorting through my books, I did indeed cringe at some of the titles and scoff at others. “I would never buy this now;” Or, “I would never want to be associated with this author,” crossed my mind a few times. There are books I was obsessed with while reading that I now look at with a vague sort of disinterest, and at others with embarrassment. Nevertheless, I stack them right along side with the others.
Reading widely and consistently means that your views and opinions will change. I am also learning that time, on its own, means that your views and opinions change, if you allow them to. This can be scary, and the reason why I think many people affix themselves to a doctrine or worldview: it’s so alluring to be told what is right and wrong. It’s humbling to realize that what you once believed (or want to believe) is actually…not right, or that there are multiple other valid perspectives on the matter.
In certain areas of this fascinating world of social media, we are encouraged not to engage with people or ideas that don’t flow with the status quo (as our social circle defines status quo, that is). We are also encouraged (peer pressured) to define and declare our views, which often reads as a sort of moral or virtue signaling. Following someone, or reposting their work, is often conflated with signing up for their worldview. Of course, this isn’t true, but man does social media trick us into believing that. I’ve shied away from resharing quotes because I’ve been afraid that other people would think that I agreed with everything the quote author said and believed. With this sort of (il)logic, it becomes difficult to engage with different ideas, even if there is some credibility in different places. What we do know is that people are complicated, with nuanced views on almost everything, even if they’ve subscribed 100% to a particular ideological framework. Ideology, as it turns out, changes with the times, too.
Here’s what I know from reading a lot of books, that we’d also do well to remember in the social media world as well: reading someone’s book does *not* mean you agree with what they say, nor does it mean you align with their other, unrelated beliefs. And, it’s actually pretty cool to be able to read a perspective that you don’t agree with and recognize the author as a full, complex human, who, like you, is also entitled to their opinions. After all, if you were raised in their body, and had the same life experiences, you’d probably think a lot like they did, too. It makes perfect sense why they think like that, and why you think like this.
I don’t want to dogmatically adhere to any kind of belief system or idea. Engaging with a variety of perspectives, ideas, and worldviews is important to me: even when I want to write someone’s perspective off because I feel like I’m a better critical thinker and their ideas are stupid, it matters to my own sense of morality to remain open and compassionate. Let it be ok to read widely and ideologically diversely, and to extend grace to those we disagree with.
I will leave you with a few titles that have stood the test of time since I first read them:
The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer
Lost & Found by Kathryn Schulz
A Separate Peace by John Knowles
The Righteous Mind: Why Good People are Divided by Politics and Religion by Jonathan Haidt
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer
Happy reading, everyone. Let your ideas and opinions change as they naturally do.
Maggie
I like what you said about books, but I am doing the opposite and getting rid of books constantly. My books fitted with various chapters of my past lives but now I want to be free and open, literally, and figuratively, so I’m constantly divesting myself of many things. Your journey through life continues to amaze me and I want to wish you luck with your new apt. Would you mind me getting your phone number from your mom? It would be nice to text you with questions while I’m in San Diego next week.