I got rid of 100+ books this week. My shelves are still too full and overflowing, but little by little I’m emptying some of them and making room.
I don’t know what I’m making room for only that I know for anything to surface there has to be space for energy to move.
Some books I hadn’t read and some I had.
Some I no longer wanted to read because my interest waned as I have grown, changed, and seen through things since acquiring…. the subject no longer resonates…. the pages no longer speak…. the author doesn’t jive.
As I looked through my shelves, I realized that I bought several of the same “theme” of books and they all said basically the same thing. I curated those down.
I realized some books held nostalgia through different phases of awakening, some of those are worth keeping (for now) but are going into a holding area in the attic. If I move within a specified time and have a larger “library’esque” room for books they will come with me, if not, their temporary abode will also turn into an exit as I don’t want “too much” stuff in the attic.
I found myself rummaging through books of poetry and things like “how to keep a family cow,” that I find much more intriguing these days than some titles of esoterica and self-help.
I’m slowly going to keep sorting through the sea of books one by one and decide, would I invite this writer to my table for coffee? Would I let them in my house if they were standing before me beyond the pages?
Books are like that, it’s sort of like letting someone into our energy field and if something feels off, it must go. If you really want to read it, then start reading it so that you can discard of it faster…or maybe fall in love and put it in the forever mine pile.
There’s something comforting about books, they feel like old friends, yet can easily turn into enemies…. or a party that you desperately want to sneak out of…. strangers keep showing up, the numbers grow too vast.
But when there is no room on the shelf, our minds, too, become crowded.
If you want to learn who you are, sort through the books you buy and see how they usually break into categories. The categories are indicators for what interests you, what lights you up, and what pulls you into comfy chairs in corners where the days go by without time.
Who deserves a place on the shelf?
Who deserves to enter our mind?
Who deserves to take up our time?
And I don’t mean deserving in that whoever those writers are don’t “deserve” to be read, but who writes what is meant for your eyes to see, who speaks to your energy, who is destined to have a seat at your table, influence on your journey….or is just taking up space, filler for the mantle, décor for the console.
I need to clean out so many more books, why is that we get so attached?
In a time where digital clutter is also top of mind, we must remember the physical world, not let it just become the background.
I think it’s harder to get rid of books these days because they actually hold more value than ever before. The digital age stores them inside a cloud, a machine that can turn them off at any moment. The difference in smell between new and old books, the sound of a turning page, the falling asleep just before making it to the end, the tactile nature of activated senses more enlivened with a tangible – real – physical book. This is a new kind of gold, currency. This is why maybe we should hang on to them, now, more than ever.
Information waiting for a future generation to discover in attics and boxes…. coming up for air from the digital age where humans got lost inside screens…. I imagine the excitement of a future where real books are a rare treasure and brave hearts sneak them out of places that are forbidden and rediscover flashlights under bedcovers for diving into forgotten stories.
It’s sad to think about but also intriguing.
Even now, I love finding old books in vintage stores…. the way people expressed through words was different…. there was real life inside the pages, not something that could ever be AI generated.
That’s the books I like, the ones that feel alive.
But there must always be some room left on the shelf…. even a tiny space made…. something open…. cleared away…. this is the doorway, the invitation, for something new to find way to you.
So, I still have more to clear off the shelves. I discovered lost books I never got around to reading that have shifted the reading list entirely…. once stuck in a corner collecting cobwebs, now back in tow for exploration.
What are your reading?
What’s reading you?
What sits on the shelf in waiting…purgatory for the day you return to rescue it from the line it’s been sitting in for so long it feels entombed?
What books do you hide away that you fear others would judge you for, special ones that sit inside boxes instead of shelves….which ones get stacked up by the bed or turn into temporary tables on the floor?
Which ones call to you to read but you continue to ignore?
Can you sit with the empty space or do you want to fill it up instantly, are you running some kind of invisible race? Is there a book that is really inspiring you today?
Is there room on your shelf for more? Or are you full with a do not disturb on the door?
I don’t know about you but I can’t read a book on a screen. This digital age will not replace my bookshelves with icons to click and fake sounds of pages turning. I won’t buy books that are written by AI…I want to feel a soul in the words….I want to dive into something that can’t be burned…..or deleted….censored…or repeated.
~ Angela
I relate to this. When we moved into our house in 2017, we had 18 boxes (the same size) containing all of our possessions, 9 were books and that was after a cull. I have reduced again since because I just keep buying books 🤣. I must say, those in recent culls were Johns 😇
Funny, I am not into getting rid of books. I have a book buying problem. I am buying faster than I can read them but I fully intend to read them. Sometimes, I buy books just to have because I foresee that they will be pulled from publishing or even be banned. Tragedy and Hope by Caroll Quigley comes to mind. These days I like to read at least a book or two a month. I try to alternate by subject. From Gnosticism to a book on health, to a book on boxing history to lighten things up or other historical books. I can't get into fiction, though I do have and intend to read. Fiction just doesn't interest me these days unless it's on a TV screen.
I woke up this morning thinking I need to add a new bookshelf and hoping I see one being given away at someone's library. Both of my current bookshelves were passed down and full to the brim.