As you go through life, what books have you collected along the way? Which ones sit on your shelf? Is this an accidental collection process or a deliberate one? An even more thought-provoking question: When you die, and someone is left with the job of cleaning out your room or office where you keep your books, what are they going to be looking at? Would they know why these are important?
A common thing for ancestry researchers to do is to look for old family Bibles. The reason is that inevitably people place precious things within them: a note, a picture, a certificate of one type or another. Sometimes the first flower provided by a spouse, or the handkerchief carried at a wedding. These things will often show up in Bibles or other religious texts. I have a few shelves dedicated to various religious studies that I have engaged with over the years, as I am sure many people do.
However, what are the other books besides the obvious ones that make up who you are? If someone were to open up to the inside cover, would you have a note there indicating why this book made it to the shelf? If you are like me, that is a no. I have one book, for example, that was a volume of a turn-of-the-20th-century history book that was given to me by a teacher who gave it to me as a token for my participation in his humanities lecture course. The book is not important, but the time period of my life and why that book sits there is important. However, I doubt anyone would know that except for me.
Another book, Culture and Agriculture by Wendell Berry, holds a place of prominence. Why? Because it was one of the most influential books, outside of religious texts, that had an impact on me. It laid the foundation for fundamental attitudes I have cultivated over the years about social movements, technological expansion, and our relationship with nature. Another book is an old English literature series that my father would read aloud to me when my sister and I were in elementary school. It was through this book that I gained an appreciation for poetry and the use of meaning and symbolism in language.
There are quite a few meaningless books that I have never read and probably never will. They collect dust only and stare at me with an accusing air as if to say, "If you only knew the secrets that I could reveal. I have been sitting here for years, waiting to change your life, and all you have to do is read." There are other books which I know are important, but I have never committed to serious study. These are my pile of great intentions, but yet-to-be-realized books. There are others that I view as books that other people recommended, but I was less than enthusiastic about. They usually make it to the bottom shelf, along with the box of discarded business cards.
If you contemplate for a moment what the books you have that you cherish say about you, it can be quite revealing. Now I have read a lot of books, but most of them would never be deemed worthy of the bookshelf. So, maybe it’s worth taking a moment to look at those books, the ones that really matter to you, and consider what stories they tell. Not just the stories within their pages, but the stories of your own life, etched into their spines and covers. Perhaps, in doing so, you might find a quiet way to share a piece of yourself, a little whisper of who you were and what you held dear, for whoever might pick them up next.
