Re-Read It

There is nothing like picking up a new book and breathing it in. Literally. On the rare occasion I buy a new book, I will take a long sniff before even cracking the cover. The papery scent holds a hint of what is to come. You should try it sometime; it's very orgasmic, very soul filling. Truly, there is nothing like the promise of a new book.

That said, I haven't started a new book in months--not to mean that I have not been reading. There are a select handful of worn books that I have read one, two, three hundred times.  Books that I turn to when bored, nervous, or content. Books I have read and reread so much and so often that I don't usually bother to begin at the beginning. Sometimes water-stained, sometimes yellowed, sometimes tattered, but always beautiful, these books are dear friends who have inspired me again and again at different stages in life.

Especially now in the face of new challenge, I find myself seeking comfort in old friends. Maniac Magee encourages me to see beyond black and white, The Watsons help me believe in miracles, Guy Montag shows me what's important. Like my best friends, they inspire me to reflect on my own values and remind me that the simplest moments--a trip to Chicago, dinner with a welcoming family, an evening walk--can gain and carry so much meaning through the years.