Remember last week, when I showed you this picture of my bookshelf at work?
Well, I think that represents about 10% of the actual number of books we I own. My wife, Leah is reading a minimalist book right now (on the Libby app) which has prompted some conversations about being more thoughtful curators for our home.
I’m here for it. Let’s get rid of some toys, clothes, art stuff, and all of the old baby stuff. (Sorry, James, it’s time to grow up)
And then, as we’re in the middle of this exciting home edit, Leah spots a pile of my books…
Leah: “you wanna go through these and get rid of whatever you don’t need?”
Kyle: “don’t worry about those, I need all of them.”
Well, that kicked off a series of discussions over the next 24 hours.
At first, I really leaned into the whole KonMari thing and each time she held up a book and said, you haven’t touched this in years, I smiled and said, “it brings me joy.”
Then she would hold up a book I’ve never even read at all and I smiled and said, “it brings me joy.”
You can imagine how long it takes for the conversation tone to change.
As I kept responding with” joy” and kept digging my heels further in, I had this question hit me:
Why are you so attached to these things?
I had to stop answering “joy” long enough to consider why I really couldn’t let go of a book I had never even read. (sidenote, if you’ve never heard of the antilibrary, you should check it out)
Turns out, they do bring me joy AND these books (both the read and especially the unread) represent more—a dream.
They are symbolic of a professional path I hope to someday embark on when the time is right. I use them now in my job regularly and I use them in this newsletter as well but they also represent this future version of myself I aspire to.
I imagine myself someday surrounded by books, searching for just the right story to highlight the importance of a particular question.
Finally, I said it out loud—”they’re my dream.”
At that stage, I really felt like I had struck my core reason for keeping every book I’ve ever owned. And I’m also feeling really proud of myself—look at me, I asked a question and went deeper than my surface level answer of “joy.” (which I still think is a viable answer on it’s own, but that’s a topic for another time)
At this point, Leah has resigned herself to the idea of being stuck with books because nobody wants to be a dreamkiller.
I’m feeling great about my answer until I have a separate conversation with someone about my dream and my research process and he says, “yeah, I get why you want lots of books in your life, but why do you need them to be physical books—wouldn’t it be more efficient for the research process if you did all of this digitally?”
Digitally?
More efficient?
I mean, yeah, I hear you…. But….
Ugh. Now I’ve got to go back and adjust the question, “why am I so attached to the physical book research process?”
Now we’re getting into murky waters because I have several answers.
There’s a lot of research around the value of analog notetaking.
This is how Ryan Holiday writes his books.
Oh shoot. How much of this is because I admire someone so much that I feel like I need to do something the exact same way he does it? And also, so what, is that so bad?
So now, I’ve spent a week reflecting on why I’m so attached to physical books 😂
The biggest win here is the process. During that first conversation with Leah I could feel myself starting to get defensive and my tone began to change. That’s not how I want to talk with someone, especially not Leah. When that question popped up and I became reflective instead of defensive, the conversation shifted and my tone changed.
In moments where we feel strongly about something, it’s worth asking ourselves why we’re so attached. Maybe the idea is right and it’s worth being firmly attached to, maybe it’s not.
The exercise is what’s important—our ability to question the things we hold most closely.
So where did we land after all of this reflecting?
Well, I get a whole lot of joy each time I look over and see those books, so for now, I’m gonna let it ride 📚
Keep Asking,
Kyle
This is one thing that's great about moving countries is that it encourages you to think more deeply about why I need something. I have tried to embrace the "bringing joy" concept as it does help to identify those things in my life that are unconsciously weighing me down. I can relate with the book collecting. I used to collect so many books and loved displaying them and being able to quickly pull one off the shelf for myself or for someone else. It can be a great conversation piece and also represents our values and also signal to people certain messages about ourselves. I like the way you saw these as as aspirational of a larger dream. I've since embraced more of the digital realm, but it's more challenging for me to "pick up" a book when it's in digital format.
I like glimpse of how you navigate this with a partner who may see these things with varying degrees of happiness.
Are you part of a book club?