Not "What" But "How" You Read

Hi.
I'm James and I'm a Bibliophile.

It's one thing to love books. It's another to love what's in them.

So when someone says, "I love books," it might be good to ask "what do you mean?" They might not even know until you ask them.

At a friends house not too long ago, I spied an ancient set of Robert Burns poetic works on a bookshelf. With permission I thumbed through the tomes, commenting on this or that poem, reading a couple out loud in my best Scottish brogue. My friend stared at me for a moment then said, "take 'em." Quickly pulling the set down and moving other books around so that his wife would not know they were gone, we snuck the books out to my car. He admitted the only reason they were on the shelf was for decoration. They knew nothing of Robert Burns or his poetry (gasp!). So I gladly took the books.

Collecting books over the years, I must admit that only a few on my shelves are for decoration. But they are not just any books--they are books I'd actually read--and plan to some day. Regardless, we have a small library (yes, many are referenced).

My goal has been to place myself within a cloud of people who influenced and shaped cultures. Great Thinkers. "But what if one person say "this" and another says "that" on a matter? What if they disagree?" Good question. What if I disagree with the author? As a friend of mine says, "read people that make you mad." Well, ok. I've done that for years. But what have I learned? Is it good to have so much to read? I admit: I often pass a book and ask, "do I really need that one?"

About the same time Jesus walked the earth, Seneca (a Roman Senator) wrote a note to a friend in Sicily regarding reading. He penned:

"Be careful, however, lest this reading of many authors and books of every sort may tend to make you discursive and unsteady. You must linger among a limited number of master thinkers, and digest their works, if you would derive ideas which shall win firm hold in your mind. . . 

. . . Food does no good and is not assimilated into the body if it leaves the stomach as soon as it is eaten; nothing hinders a cure so much as frequent change of medicine; no wound will heal when one salve is tried after another; a plant which is often moved can never grow strong.

There is nothing so efficacious that it can be helpful while it is being shifted about. And in reading of many books is distraction.

Accordingly, since you cannot read all the books which you may possess, it is enough to possess only as many books as you can read . . . .

. . . Each day acquire something that will fortify you against poverty, against death, indeed against other misfortunes as well; and after you have run over many thoughts, select one to be thoroughly digested that day." 

(Seneca, Moral Letters 2 "On Discursiveness In Reading")

A few days ago, I was already thinking of how I wanted to narrow my reading focus. I mean, the pile of books on my bed-side table is again growing a pile of good intentions, but really . . . I'm no butterfly to go flitting around the flowers. Every day I listen to a five minute thought on the way to work, then I read two more short thoughts and set my mind to one of the three all day long (today, Seneca won). I want to learn from that one thing.

Never stop reading. Just don't be distracted by so many "voices" that your mind can't focus on your one thing. Read to learn. Read to be challenged. Read to grow. Think of reading is like a buffet--you can't have everything. I mean, you could but what good does it do you?

Let one thing you read be meaningful enough to fortify you.