Dear special reader,
I just celebrated my birthday, so I enjoyed a number of social outings with friends and family. I know people who place a lot of emphasis on celebrating birthdays with panache and those who are completely ambivalent about it, and rather typical of me I land somewhere in the middle. I do not require lavish gifts or parties, but I’m not going to turn down either if they are offered. What I truly appreciate is shared time — hanging out with close friends and relatives, partaking of a delicious meal, laughing together, and going to new places or events with fun company.
The older you get the more you notice the time economy and that everyone is on a budget.1 So, when I can arrange to meet up with pals or family I do my best to give it priority. These are the memories that sustain us when we are constantly engaged on multiple fronts or when we are beleaguered by life. Even a concise catch-up in a café between engagements can add a joyful uplift to an otherwise frantic day.
Yet we have work and commutes, children and pets, obligations and responsibilities, and in between all that we have the nagging sense that we must pay more attention to our ‘wellness’ by carving out time for meditation/movement/hobbies/reading/improvement.
No wonder people are stressed: there’s a pervading anxiety that none of us are doing things ‘right’ and we have myriad ways to watch / listen to people who are delighted to instruct us about their convoluted schedules and systems and how you can adopt it too so you can have it all! (Please download the app or pay for their masterclass first.)
Dear reader, you are fine as you are. Take solace in your uniqueness and pay attention to what is coming in to console or aid you when you’re struggling. And look up at the sky and get out as much as you can. Some of us can multiply our problems by thinking about them too much (I have been guilty of this so many times).
There is no perfect life or having it all. We must meet our primary needs first and after that we have to prioritise. Sometimes we must ride out a period in which we will miss out on a lot. Good friends will understand and be patient. We have all been in this situation before. Plus, we have the benefits of technology, and being able to leave text/voice/video messages.
I sometimes refer to this as the ‘Maura podcast’ to my friends. They do their chores while I catch them up on my life and obsessions.
Recently I have started to listen to my voice messages after I send them. There is something useful to hearing myself articulate my spontaneous thoughts. It is like peering behind the veil of my consciousness. Occasionally, it is akin to the experience I obtain from writing, where I figure out an important personal insight through the act of having to organise my thoughts via typing. When speaking I make more random associations and sudden connections which is subtly different from composing and shaping a written narrative. Plus, I talk about different subjects to various friends. And more importantly, my friends can hear my tone, chuckles and snippy asides. I didn’t take to voice messaging at first, but once I started I noticed its value.
I suspect that because I’m talking to a targeted person and I can be authentic and specific because our shared history and connection is foremost in my mind. When I try to replicate this ‘for me’ —i.e. recording ideas for a project or trying to get a piece of fiction off the ground—it is not as easy. Perhaps I need to imagine different Maura personas for these recording sessions, so I can tap into the correct mode and speak directly to the part of me that requires the dialogue.
A useful experiment or a greased slope to self-obsession and narcissism? I may have to take the risk…
My urgent Spring impulse to purge my wardrobe continued last week, resulting in me tackling cleaning jobs I’d been putting off, tidying and reorganising items, until it finally settled upon the prospect of reducing my book collection.
There’s a special agony that descends upon a devoted reader when she surveys her books and graphic novels with the intention of giving some of them away. I would prefer to whittle down a dozen closets of clothing rather than contemplate this action. I’ve done it before, but last weekend, as I considered the size of my house and my shelving space, I realised I must adopt a stone-hearted approach.
Tsundoku, is a handy Japanese noun for the action of buying books/journals with the intention of reading them but instead having them languish unread in piles or stuffed in bookshelves. Anyone who loves books knows this phenomenon. We pick up the volume, admiring its heft, and the promise it offers. We purchase it with optimism and a steadfast denial of the other books jostling in the reading queue. Yet, unless it is relevant to our immediate lives it eventually becomes buried or obscured by its competitors.
Then there’s bibliomania, which describes the compulsion to collect literature. The difference is that bibliomania is not easily controlled and can devolve into book hoarding with a damaging result. While I certainly suffer from Tsundoku at times I’m not susceptible to hoarding. I lurk in the follows of social media accounts where people occupy small dwellings or houseboats, and I admire their ability to live with two sets of dishes and an incredibly efficient storage system. While it might sound morbid, when I’m attempting to pare back my possessions I remind myself that one day I will die and it’s likely that much of what I own might end up being thrown into a dump.
That is not to diminish the solace of beautiful objects that bring happiness to your daily life. What’s important to me is that they are seen or used regularly and enjoyed. I’m not a minimalist at heart. I admire wild maximalism when it’s full of exuberant flash but assembled with a curator’s precision.
Then, there are ‘collectors’, who specialise in a specific category of book or comic, and work with an eventual ambition to donate their collection to a library or archive. In this way the private individual is working towards the public good during their lifetime. Their love will be transmitted to the future. They often seek out rarities or curiosities. That hobby can remind us of the constant creative urge in humans.
It is not enough to exist in this world, we crave an expression of beauty also.
Readers are bibliophiles, we love the glamour of books; they can conjure entertainment, offer insights and convey information. We build beautiful associations with the special books in our lives. Even as I faced my difficult task, I accepted there were off-limit books, ones I would not part with for sentimental reasons or because I adored the unique worlds they conjured in my mind. In general, I do not discard books on history, science, biography, or mythology, or anything I consider ‘reference’. For instance, I put a huge volume of famous quotations—purchased about twenty-five years ago—on the discard pile. Then I considered the current problem of confirming accurate quotes on the Internet, and returned it to the ‘keep’ pile. Books are not always authoritative, but in the past there was a bit more rigour put into accreditation.
I managed a lethal cutback through the application of a ruthless determination followed by a swift donation. Like with my recent clothes purge, I did not allow myself time for remorse. I cleared out the tomes and drove them away from my house in one day. I deafened my ears to their wailing.
I released them to other collectors and book lovers, recognising that those books had been purchased to please an ideal: the person with unlimited time, enormous shelving space, comfy book nooks and few distractions.
Instead, I will focus on reading and savouring what I already own, and in the future temper my bibliophilia with a more pragmatic approach.
A philosophy that will be tested when I next cross the threshold of a book shop...
I’ve discussed the importance of friends before, and of the value of shared company, so I won’t re-tread this territory.
Good girl! Haha. You know you and I have a lot in common. I purge I have to do the donation right away or else, here comes the remorse! Lol. And I think I have the Tsundoku illness-- I even buy TBR books on kindle thru Amazon because of BookBub daily and their 1.99 books but 2 a day and maybe like 30% of them read. It's starting to add up, lol. I am not so much a bibliophile as I was an English major and kind of had the symptoms because they were forced onto me by that major-- even if I adored it.
As usual, love your writing and your style and love finding things I relate to! This was a great substack letter and also, happy birthday 🎂 glad you got to spend the time with family and friends-- that's what I appreciate most as well. I do try to get in all that self care as well but I also try to take the time for awe.
Have a great rest of your week! Xoxo. ❤️😊🌹
I'd listen to the Maura podcast! As for books, I jettisoned nearly all of mine when I left Edinburgh. Now I have six boxes containing only the most precious ones, waiting for a time when I have my own walls. Kindle is not the same, but I love it nonetheless. I have to remind myself that carrying thousands of books with me everywhere I go is something I could have only dreamed of! Magic! Hope you had a wonderful birthday 💜