Let me ask you a question. When’s the last time you read something?
You’re probably thinking wow, what a stupid question! Aren’t I reading this right now?
So then, let me ask you this. When’s the last time you read a book just because. Not because it was assigned for a class, not because your parents made you read it for self improvement, not because you really needed your license because you’re sick of transiting two hours to volunteer projects, no. When’s the last time you sat down without having to, made a cup of tea, and read for the sake of reading?
For some of you, that could be as recent as last night. And for others, you may not even remember that last time you picked out a book you love, got comfortable, and let yourself escape into another world.
I feel like as we grow, we start to make less and less time for the things we love. Reading used to be my life. I would go through books like Belle in Beauty and the Beast, always asking for more, more books, more stories, and I was absolutely dead set on reading every book in my elementary’s library. So when did that change? And why?
You don’t really notice it until you really think about it, and it really hits you in the face. How could something I used to love so much have become merely a chore?
I wasn’t okay with that. I wasn’t okay with watching an essential part of my identity be washed away because I stopped loving it and starting viewing it as a job.
So I started to read again. It started gradually. I would read the occasional book here and there, visit a bookstore every once in a while and pick out a book that I wanted, read on long transit rides to volunteer projects, and it was then when I started to really remember why I loved reading so much.
Without sounding terribly cliche, reading honestly does transport you to a different world. It provides an escape. In the world of books, no-one cares about that horrifyingly awkward thing you did the other day (you know what I’m talking about), or that homework you’re procrastinating on, or the fact that you still haven’t practiced your instrument (which you swore you would do, come on now, go practice!). Your problems seem to disappear, even if only momentarily.
And it’s incredible to be able to lose yourself in a story. The power of reading, of stories, of well chosen words has never failed to absolutely amaze me. It’s crazy to me that 26 letters, arranged in a million different ways, are the reason that I’m bawling my eyes out (don’t act like you haven’t done it), or I’m staying up all night, hanging onto every word, desperate to know what happens next.
And beyond losing yourself in a book, reading helps you to find yourself. You’ll discover things about yourself that you never knew, that you never knew you needed to know. Every journey and adventure that you go on in a book is but a journey to learn more about yourself. And I think that’s incredible.
I think books are one of the most powerful forces in the world. Compare it to music, or to art all you want, but at the end of the day, I think that books, and words, hold the most powerful pull over our thoughts, and our emotions, and our souls.
So let me ask you again. When’s the last time you sat down and read a book purely for the sake of reading a book? And regardless of what your answer was before, I hope that now, you’ll go and change your answer. Change it to right now.
