I love books and in my mind I always think that I could read all day every day… but in actual reality I find myself choosing to do other things rather than read. But I find myself really longing for time with books, sitting in libraries, browsing book shops… cuddled up on the couch.

I think that really it might be that I like the idea of books and reading more than doing it. It sometimes turns out to be a disappointment… a not so great book,... distractions when reading, I’m not sure entirely but the magic seems to not be as great when I’m actually reading as I envisage in mind…

It might be that motherhood has changed my relationship with reading; I’m often too tired, I’m often too busy, there’s not enough time to really get stuck into a book, i.e. long periods of reading time, too many adult things to do, not enough time to find good, interesting, captivating books….

Anyhow, I wondered if your experience is similar at all? An old friend once said there is the “quidity” of books..the feel, the essence etc… might it be something to do with this?... something metaphysical or something symbolic about them?

Topics: science, paper, words, psychology, reading, books, literature, philosophy, libraries