I just read an essay by Steve Edwards titled On the Experience of Entering a Bookstore in Your Forties (vs. Your Twenties). It’s about how our meaning of books change as we get older. While I didn’t ponder the question “Who do I want to be?” when going to the bookstore, now that I’m thirty and realizing that my life will change, my question when going to the bookstore is “Do I have time to read all of these books?” I always find more than one book while browsing the shelves at Barnes & Noble, and I know there are probably more waiting to be opened and read that I haven’t found yet.
Then I go home, find the list of books that I’ve been meaning to buy off Amazon, and that same question enters my head.
Do I have time to read all of these books?
Then I get scared that I won’t reach my goal of reading 15 books a year (making that up) and go do something else. I don’t want to fail.
Maybe I need a new approach to my hobby of reading–one that doesn’t make me scared about how old I am, and all of the books I’ll be missing out on. And perhaps not look at it as a task I have to do, but WANT to do.
Do you treat your hobbies as obligations? Something that HAS to get done rather than doing it for fun?