What is Your Thing?

On reviving lost loves

I’ve had to revive my relationship with reading books these past few years.

It sounds ridiculous—I am a writer, I live in a house full of books. Reading has been one of my great loves since I was a child. If I am honest, books have saved my life. But, starting in 2016, I pretty much stopped reading them.

It had been on a decline for a while—whittled away by time spent online, no doubt—but the Trump presidency was the death knell. I stayed up late scrolling through political analysis articles on my phone, as if knowing exactly what type of fresh hell was taking place would somehow prevent it from happening.

Then the pandemic hit and I could not keep my attention on the page—I kept picking up my phone to gulp down more news about disease spread, PPE shortages, death, and supply chain issues.

It was nine months into the pandemic before I read a book. It was The Wedding Date, by Jasmine Gulliory—a new genre for me, but it felt like a flirty champagne cocktail in a large room filled with stern cups of coffee.

I also learned to appreciate audio books. I don’t retain as much when I listen, but sometimes that’s okay. Some books I don’t need engraved on my soul.

Most of all, I’ve come to accept that I don’t read well at night any more. Maybe this is aging, maybe the combination of political instability and global pandemic have turned my brain into Swiss cheese, but night time is no longer the right time for me to read.

Instead, I have carved out other times. On good days, I set aside twenty minutes in the morning, before I do my work, to sit and read with a cup of tea. If I can’t make the morning work, I try to read while I eat lunch.

Am I online less? Yes. Is it worth it? Yes. Maybe some loves need to adjust and evolve in order to last a lifetime.

When I think back on the past year, those moments spent sitting on the couch with a good book and the dog next to me have been some of my most pleasurable. Also, reading in the morning makes me feel rich, like I have a lovely life of leisure where I consume thoughts and ideas along with my morning tea. It’s delightful.

I suspect we all have things like this—hobbies or activities we once loved but lost touch with. Maybe it’s sports, maybe it’s some sort of game. I know people embracing pickleball, as it brings back a state of fun, activity, and competition that reminds them of youth sports. Whatever it is for you—painting or playing or having a pen pal—I encourage you to revive your lost loves. Perhaps you moved on for good reason, but you may find something you still cherish, something that makes it all feel deeply worthwhile.

The other evening, I was walking the dog when two girls sped past me on those kick scooters. They were about ten years old, hair pulled back in high ponytails, and they talked and laughed as they scooted. Suddenly I was overcome—I know how that feels. I know the feeling of wind in your face and a freedom in the speed and your buddy alongside you; it’s one of the best feelings of childhood. Suddenly, I wanted to feel it again.

I’m not saying I’m going to go get a kick scooter—but I am not saying that I’m not.

What’s your thing? Go find it again, go try it. And let me know how it goes.