I write and speak often about my love of books. As I was commenting to my coworkers on our drive back from the Seattle area a couple of days ago, I don’t trust myself to go inside a Barnes & Noble, largely because if the inclination strikes I can very quickly and very easily leave with a vastly lighter wallet (or bank account) and a pile of books of only passing and momentary interest. Having recognized this as a major problem, I try to avoid the temptation whenever possible. This is not to pick on Barnes & Noble, because it is a potential issue in any bookstore (even Powell’s, beloved as it is by Portlanders), but rather an expression of my own particular personality.

For as long as I can remember, both reading and expressing my thoughts have come fairly effortlessly. I started reading when I was about three years old or so, and read the daily newspaper before I entered elementary school. Likewise, from childhood I was a talkative and fairly well informed person who had little problem saying or writing my thoughts. I remember writing an essay about my love for the planet Pluto at the age of 8 or so after hearing the local pastor at the time speculate on ruling planets in the world to come, and so already at that age I was responding to the messages of pastors and writing essays for fun. I wish I could have warned myself at that tender age that I was already heading down a dangerous path completely unaware of the repercussions of being so eager to respond and so drawn to express my thoughts and opinions. Unfortunately, I was not informed, and it was merely thought that I was cute and precocious for being so alert and responsive at such a young age, something that became a lot less cute to authority figures in my teenage years and young adulthood.

I read books the way that I eat food, devouring them voraciously, tearing them apart and leaving nothing behind but scraps and a few bones to mark my feast. But not only do I feast on parchment the way that wolves feast on sheep, but I find books to be greatly nourishing, which is why I work hard to be careful on what I spend my time reading. What I read is like food, and the thoughts and ideas and attitudes of a text enter inside of me, to be wrestled with, challenged, or accepted. Whatever my response to it, it has an effect and an influence on me, just as is the case with the food I eat. Some books digest well, some books not so well, and some are so toxic that I am as allergic to them as I am to mangoes.

I should note as well that though as a voracious reader who has acquired mountains of books in the course of my life so far (and now that I get books for free, I do not see there being any ceasing to this process so long as I draw breath and have enough vision to read, which if lacking would merely transfer my interest to learning braile or to listening to books on tape, as my hunger for books and the acquisition of knowledge would not change simply because I was unable to read the words on a page. Likewise, I feel it is necessary to note that books are not the only way that one acquires knowledge and ideas and concepts, which can happen through conversations, music, movies, television, the internet, and any other means of acquiring information about the outside world through our senses. Basically, everything that we sense or experience can be the source of ideas and thoughts and rumination, and becomes the food for our mind.

This has obvious implications. For one, given that we feed off of our sense data and our experiences, it behooves us to make sure that what we taste and try is good and not evil. Any experiments or experiences will enter into us, into our memories, and even if we fight against the corruption of the evil that we experience, it will leave its mark on us as sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. This presents us with the responsibility to choose what we feed on wisely, a task that requires a great deal of skill and nuance and practice. As we grow in self-knowledge, we will know our own ability to tolerate and accept certain words and images and which ones will trouble us greatly. We may choose, in the interests of self-improvement, to face that which troubles us by showing a mirror on our flawed natures and causing us to reflect on them, and choose not to indulge in those aspects of popular culture (junk food for the brain) that trouble us by giving us nightmares or provoking lust, and our choices in those grounds ought not to be the source of criticism, as we should know ourselves and our own strengths and weaknesses best (aside from God and Jesus Christ, of course).

Therefore, we must view books and entertainment and learning as a matter both of taste and of ethics. In understanding our strengths and weaknesses, we must know if we desire something too strongly and must keep that habit in check, as I do when I try to avoid impulse purchases at the bookstore, knowing it will be a serious drain if that pleasure is indulged in. Even those things which are good can easily be desired too strongly to be safe, and those of us who know ourselves well may understand that there will be moments when for various reasons we will indluge in that which is not strictly safe given our circumtances. Wisdom comes with time and a fair bit of painful experience.

Likewise, the expression of our thoughts and feelings is also a considerably delicate matter. Being honest and authentic with ourselves and with others while remaining sensitive of their own feelings and situation is a matter that we all struggle with often. Those of us who feel more intensely or have more opinions and thoughts to express and the desire to express those more strongly have a great responsibility to make sure that we do not oppress or overwhelm others with those expressions of thought and feeling. While this is a challenging task, it is a worthwhile one.