Stories about Stuff: Unread Books

I love books.  I’ve culled and edited my collection throughout the years, but I have a hard time getting rid of books that have meant something to me.  This love of books - not just the act of reading, but the deliberate having and holding of books - started when I was a child.  My own children’s shelves now contain bunches of books that I saved from my younger years. I have populated the rest of the house with quite a few editions related to art education, a decent but not terribly impressive collection of yoga books, and many novels that gripped me in my twenties.

I had my son when I was 30, and from that point forward my appetite for reading disappeared.  As a kid, I was once what my son eventually became - the voracious reader who had to at times be encouraged to put the book down, up late at night with a flashlight under the covers.  But birthing and raising this reading phenom (he read all seven Harry Potter books in ten days the summer before first grade) killed my love of reading.

It started with labor and delivery.  In short, I started labor pains at around noon on a Wednesday, realized I was in labor by around suppertime, and had a regular five-minute cycles of contractions before midnight.  Around that time we went to the hospital, but despite the veteran nurse’s initial assumption that he’d have arrived by morning, he had not.  I had terrible back labor and lost focus.  One epidural and an abyss of hours later, he arrived at around supper time on Thursday.  I had not slept at all in the previous 24-hour stretch - and sleep would be at a minimum for much of the first year and a half of his sweet life.

This curious and amazing child slept in three hour stretches each night, interrupted by cries that could only be silenced by nursing.  Before a well-intentioned reader suggests the many methods and books available, please remember that this child is now fifteen years old and thriving.  As my pediatrician pointed out when I arrived, bedraggled and sleep-deprived, at each welcome well-visit, he would get enough sleep.  I would have to determine my breaking point and devise a way through the nights (and days) until I reached that moment of action.

We had tried once to let him cry it out.  He screamed until he vomited.  Sometime around fifteen months old, I was ready to try a method outlined in a book by a doctor.  I can’t recall the book, I just know that I flipped past the hundreds of pages of research and justification for the simple, one-page how-to.  That night, after a few tests of our will, he succumbed.  

He still rose from the bed screaming until he was three, woke up repeatedly after bedtime whenever we were traveling, and from ages three to four had night terrors, but I between all of that was able to get some uninterrupted sleep for the first time in what felt like forever.  Sleep deprivation is a form of tourture, that much is known.  But until you experience it, you have no idea how much it clouds your thinking.  

Shortly after my son had stabilized sleep-wise, my daughter was born.  I don’t know if she slept better than he did or if my expectations were just very low.  But regardless, for the last decade and a half, any time I sit down at bedtime to read, I immediately fall asleep.  I haven’t tried lately, but typically even if I try to sit down midday and read at length, I fall asleep.

I’ve never lost my love of books - the smell and sound of the pages, the bindings that beckon the all that lies within.  I even occasionally buy books, shamefully knowing that they’ll likely never be cracked.  Talking about books and what one is reading can be a genuine way to make connections and foster great conversation.  It can also be an attempt to establish a sense of intellectual elitism.  I feel fortunate to have had a great foundation in reading throughout all of my schooling.  I can only hope to find the mindspace to return to this habit that was such a huge part of making me who and how I am.

I have been collecting the books that I intend to read beneath my bedside table - keeping them close, but largely hidden.  Today I decided to put them out on the tabletop where they cannot be ignored.  I was a little embarrassed by the number that had been stashed and forgotten.  

I briefly made some headway back toward a reading habit when I was gifted Michelle Obama’s autobiography by a friend who is truly well-read.  I laughed and cried through the first third of the book, before I started back to teaching at the College and became swamped with work.  Thankfully I’m a page-bender so I know just where to pick back up.

“Becoming” sits in a stack with three other titles that I’ve started but not finished.  Also in this short stack is “Unglued” by Lysa TerKeurst.  This book was gifted to me by my step-son’s 3rd grade teacher.  The book is written by the director of a Christian Ministry, and while Mrs. Johnson knew that I do not identify as Christian, the subtitle: “making wise choices in the midst of raw emotion” clearly spoke to some of my greatest challenges.  I’m easily able to gather the wisdom without being sidetracked by the biblical references.  Besides, I think the Bible has some fine content, I just don’t appreciate how it’s been used to discriminate and shame.  That’s not the intent of “Unglued”, and I look forward to the lessons it offers.

The next book is one that I’ve read from many times but never in its entirety: Howard Thurman’s Meditations from the Heart.  Thurman was a spiritual advisor to Martin Luther King, Jr., so frankly, I’m not worthy, but his writing is really beautiful and practical.  I want to soak up this selection of his writing from start to finish.  

The last book in this group is Anne Lamott’s “Grace Eventually: Thoughts on Faith”.  I like Anne Lamott’s humor and raw honesty, and faith can be elusive for me.  I made headway on this book last summer when my partner and I were in the mountains for a week.  He gets up at 6am and goes to bed at 9 or 10, and my body runs best sleeping from midnight to 8am.  That week, unburdened by responsibility, I got back into my regular circadian rhythms and read each night with ease.

Clearly the promise of faith restored or renewed, of spirituality, has been impetus enough to draw me to at least start reading a few times.  My tower of to-reads is more varied in subject and source.  There are twelve selections in this stack, and I’ll share their relevance in order based on the perimeter of the cover, from biggest to smallest:

“A Manual of Chinese Herbal Medicine” by Warner J.W. Fan, MD
I believe this came from a trusted friend who was deaccessioning it from her personal library.  I’ve been receiving acupuncture for various reasons and from various practitioners for over fifteen years, most recently from Colby Christy, who is a very advanced practitioner, teaching for many years at an institute in Baltimore.  He’s a wealth of knowledge and very patient with his explanations, but I’ve found much context and meaning through other energetic pursuits including yin yoga, and I’d like to be more well-versed.

“Inside the Miracle: Enduring Suffering, Approaching Wholeness” by Mark Nepo
I took a weekend workshop with Mark Nepo through the Sophia Institute in 2016, and it was amazing.  I’d read and re-read short portions of his “Book of Awakening” - particularly the essay that appears early in the book about “seeing the soul as a little fish” countless times through the years, alone at night and in class after class.  I purchased two of his books, maybe three, at that workshop.  I ended up giving two away, but this one stayed.  “Enduring suffering, approaching wholeness” - yes please.

“The Day It Finally Happens: Alien Contact, Dinosaur Parks, Immortal Humans and Other Impossible Phenomena”  by Mike Pearl
I heard an interview with Mike Pearl on NPR, in which he explains that he wrote the book in part to help with his own general anxiety about existential threats, researching and following through on the what-ifs.  Pat pointed out (because he reads constantly) that a global pandemic is one potential disaster explored in the book, although it is presented as a part of the obsession with the possibility of a Zombie apocalypse.  One of the only upsides of COVID that I can see is that so far, no brain-eating has resulted.

“Dark Matter and the Dinosaurs” by Lisa Randall
Amazon’s summary states: “In ‘Dark Matter and the Dinosaurs’, Professor Lisa Randall, one of today's most influential theoretical physicists, takes readers on an intellectual adventure through the history of the cosmos, showing how events in the farthest reaches of the Universe created the conditions for life—and death—on our planet.”  Despite not being very sciency at any point in my life, I heard her interviewed on NPR and ordered.  Of all of the books in the stack, at 375 pages and with nearly 20 pages of suggested supplementary reading, I’m willing to nominate this one for “most likely to still be in the “to-read” pile in a year’s time.

“The Defiant Child: A Parent’s Guide to Oppositional Defiant Disorder” by Dr. Douglas A. Riley
While we do not have an official ODD diagnosis in our family, this book has been recommended as a way to work through behavior challenges and support growth - for both the parent and the child.  I wish a one-page how-to existed for this one, but something tells me this is less about doing and more about understanding.  

“Mothers and Others: The Evolutionary Origins of Mutual Understanding” by Sarah Blaffer Hrdy
This is another one that is probably a little over my head, but as a mother and someone who is deeply concerned about how we are raising children and supporting or undermining each other as a society, I’m going to do my best to tackle this one.

“Body Moves: The Psychology of Exercise” by James Gavin, PhD
I found this book in the foyer of my building at the College before the end of the fall term.  It looked as if someone had emptied their office and left all of the contents behind.  I waited for over a week before asking my boss if he thought I could sift through the piles and take what looked interesting.  He gave me the green light.  This book was written in 1988 and smells a little like mildew, but I like the idea of diving deeper into exercise science, even if the content is a little outdated.

“Tales from the Manor: Tales of Charleston from Residents of Joseph Floyd Manor” by Jae Smith, Summer Anderson and Bennett Jones
Most folks who live in and have access to travel by car throughout Charleston know Joseph Floyd Manor - though perhaps not by name.  It’s the tall apartment building on Mount Pleasant street, butted up against mile 219 along I-26.  The Charleston County Housing and Redevelopment Authority has its offices in the building, but much of the space is apartments that are offered largely to elderly residents.  I had the great privilege of getting to know several of these residents over the course of two years, and their perspective on life and the local area were truly fascinating.  Historians tell a particular story, usually one that is based on the experience and intentions of those in power.  This book is based on an OM radio podcast of the same name.

“Eating Animals” by Jonathan Safran Foer
My partner read this book ages ago.  I haven’t read much about diet and food production in many years - really since Michael Pollan broke onto the scene.  Also I like the green and white cover and play with the font to show letters that are furry, leafy, and rooted. Delightful.  I’m a sucker for good packaging.

“The Ocean at the End of the Lane” by Neil Gaiman
I love Neil Gaiman and came across this short novel on sale at the Barnes and Noble while waiting for my son to find ways to spend a gift card his grandparents sent him.

“Conversations Before the End of Time” by Suzi Gablik
Suzi Gablik came to talk at my college during the spring term that I took a six-week special topics course in site-specific art.  The book is a collection of “dialogues on art, life, and spiritual renewal” with a variety of folks well-versed in those subjects.  I don’t remember much of it but it seems pretty relevant.  I guess technically I could put it in the pile with other books that I’ve started, but it’s been 25-years so I’m considering it a fresh start from the beginning.

“Full Moon” by Jim Butcher
This is the second book in a series called “The Dresden Files”  My son enjoyed the series, finding it entertaining without requiring too much thought.  Honestly, this is probably the kind of book I should’ve been reading through the years, rather than trying to read more dense and heavy topics after exhausting days overfilled with responsibility to family and work.  The first one was pretty fun, so I’m excited to read the second, if for no other reason than to have something else to chat about with my kid.

It might seem strange to share books that I haven’t read, but I’m not documenting them as a means of recommending them.  I don’t ever really write as a how-to or what-to but rather as a way of sharing my thinking.  I think a lot, and I’m always interested in what and how others are thinking.  Through the SAS (Stories about Stuff) series, I’ve been looking at items that I (don’t) see around my living space and asking myself to reconsider them, to wonder why they are here and what purpose they serve.

These books are a reminder for me to stay open to learning, to remember what interests me beyond the tangible and the familiar, and to make space - to organize and ration my energy so that I might find room to take in what these books have to offer.  If I’m taking in too much and/or giving out too much, I shut down as soon as I sit still.  This is not how I want to live, not how I want to wrestle my way through my life.  I want to read with intention as I move and breathe, turning pages in a grounding and responding flow.  In and out.  Reflect and express.  Take and give.

Update: Since writing this a week ago, I have finished “Becoming” but added a new book called “Under Pressure: Confronting the Epidemic of Stress and Anxiety in Girls” by Lisa Damour.  Maybe this is just my style?