One of my colleagues, having both finished an advanced degree and recovering from breaking her knee has been struggling a bit to find level ground.
I have watched, knowing that this will be me. Well, the degree bit and hopefully not the knee bit.
This weekend she is to read a novel. We got to talking about books. If you have met me in real life, you know I am a reader. By reader I mean that I have a built in bookshelf that covers 90 square feet in my dinning room. It’s full. There are stacks of books by my bed and we won’t talk about the digital books on my iPad. I have books from my childhood, books I loved as an adult, books from courses, books I haven’t read yet.
I had planned to bring my friend three books from my shelf. I thought that was enough to be getting on with. But it’s hard. You peruse through the shelves and you see all these books that you want to share.
This morning I came in with 7 books. Using post it notes, I annotated what I loved about them. I included a card, asking her to pick what she likes or feels like (hence the post its), return them when she is ready.
Books journey with me. I can often tell you when I read them. Sometimes where I read them. It doesn’t feel like I’m giving her books. It feels like I am giving her friends and spaces and times in my life.
I’m looking forward to seeing what she likes.