In recent months, I started taking steps towards developing a sustainable self care routine. One, where no matter the circumstance provided the same results in establishing internal peace. By learning more about the concept of minimalism and drawing inspirations from others living it out, I’ve been able to cull and refine skills, habits, materials, and relationships that matter most to me. Tailoring what learned and creating a space that authentically reflects me and not the expectations of others.
Upon taking inventory of my pasts hobbies, reading, my most treasured activity, seem to be the one that took a back seat. That feeling of slowly falling into a story, creating the world, and getting acquainted with the characters is painfully missed.
I’ve noticed over the years that in an attempt to ‘fit in’ I tried a variety of social activities that frankly left me feeling more drained than recharged. Not saying that some weren’t memorable and/or enjoyable, only reflecting that I’ve sacrificed solitude in the attitude of people pleasing for far too long.
Reminiscing, It was something I enjoyed seeing my father do. Looking so engrossed and entranced in the pages evoked my curiosity and this desire to be just as focused.
When my sister and I finally obtained our driver’s license, we’d spend our weekends at the library; roaming and making sure to pick a few books from each section. As years gone by, its become difficult to maintain our library love affair. Our schedules conflicted and other priorities took precedence. Adulting!
Since embarking in my journey towards a more minimal and intentional life, this library love affair is resurfacing and signs of a strong relationship is reforming.
I didn’t realize how much reading and spending time at the library was a crucial source to my wellbeing. When I was younger, I would hide my books or devise an elaborate story of my weekend plans; in reality it would be spent studying or reading. I would be asked “what’s your hobby?” by peers and my answer would reading and singing. To my dismay my classmates would tell me reading is not a hobby and that it had to be fun. So,in my naive mind, unless others found what you love fun it couldn’t be a hobby.
I’ve allowed myself to live with that mindset for too long and I believe its the same for many. For me that was fun and as to this day reading still brings me joy.
I’m delighted that there are others who feel the same way and boast about their joy proudly on social media. Shout out to the booktubers, bookstagrammers, and bookblrs out there.
I was so excited last year with all the book recommendations from watching book reviews that I overestimated my ability to read them all and underestimated the rigor of my work and school schedule. It led to overwhelm and this unnecessary anxiety for not catching up and reaching my challenge on Goodreads.
This year I’ve chosen to decrease my reading challenge on Goodreads from 50 to 30. Deciding to be more mindful and intentional of my choices and focusing on quality, depth, and diversity in my reading choices.
Reading is one of the most impactful contributors to my growth and success and I’m elated that I can joyfully reclaim it as a hobby.
Without libraries what do we have? We have no past and no future. -Ray Bradbury
How about you? What hobby brings you joy? and whast steps are taking to reclaim it?