The World is a Library

Feeling quite relaxed on a Friday night, at the end of an uneventful work week. I've been doing a lot of journalling, writing with my collection of fountain pens. Last week I wrote about trains of thoughts that could lead to a wreck, if unchecked. Writing, especially journalling, exposes these thoughts and gives you an opportunity to see them objectively.

All actions stem from thoughts. I've mentioned before that actions are nothing more than the gross manifestation of thoughts. Actions lead to more thoughts which lead to more actions in a chain of action and reaction. 

My blog reveals a lot of my thoughts and my way of thinking. It occurred to me the other day that the books we own are also a reflection of our thoughts. Every book that I possess is a particular subject matter that I have thought about or is interested in. A book is a conversation with its author; every printed sentence that I've read had manifested itself as a thought in my brain.  

In my library, I also have a lot of books which I bought for reference, and many more which I intend to read at some point in the future. But every book, even unread ones are living thoughts in my mind: some represent ideas, which had been strengthened or refuted by the many authors whom I had consulted; others represent intentions to explore further. 

So is it any surprise that I own so many books in my library? If you enter my apartment and look at all the shelves of books, you are virtually walking into my brain. These books in my personal library are the physical manifestation of my thoughts and interests. It is the original metaverse of ideas.

Owning a library of books, in a way is to enable one to 'think' physically.  It is my random access memory: pulling out a book from the shelves is to access a piece of information or idea; flipping though its pages and reading a sentence her and there is an act of interrogation, of examination of a certain subject matter. And if it is a work of fiction, an evocation of a feeling, like a memory of past events.

Which is why I am reluctant to just go with e-books, which would solve a lot of my space problems. Books are not just storage of contents, they are physical levers for moving the thinking dials in my head. You are able to hold a bundle of ideas in your hand and the tactile engagement that comes with reading a physical book, squeezes out the juice from your grey matter.

Thinking does not have to be a purely mental affair. You can walk with a book, caress its pages and see ideas interplay and interact on paper with your eyes. You embrace the ideas expressed with the totality of your body and mind. 

When I invite someone to peruse my library of books, I am allowing someone to look into my brain and see all the activities that are happening there. Nothing could be more intimate than that. 

I am happy to be surrounded by books: there are everywhere--on my bed as my sleeping companions, under my bed in boxes to protect them from the dust and sun, and here on my desk, there in tall stacks on the floor. Have I read them all? No, of course not. They are my thoughts, my desires, my intentions. Those I've read are now part of my existence, inhabiting both my physical and mental spaces.

I wrote an article more than a decade ago, how people are so interesting because they are like interactive books. Life is beautiful and exciting because the world itself is a vast living library. And no, I haven't read all the books out there. But you can bet, I'll never stop perusing its shelves.