Book Hoarding 2

         So I had the epiphany.  I accepted that I am a book hoarder.  I’ve now moved again, for the third time in two years, and this was likely the epiphany’s impetus.  Previously I had already shrunk my library considerably, but as mentioned, it had always grown back like a wart or a starfish’s leg.   

         How many books, I now ask, does one person need?  I have to be careful to not be a hypocrite here, because in all likelihood my library will grow again (though hopefully not to such monstrous proportions).  There are certain books it makes sense for me to have, and I’m sure I’ll always have a good sized collection.  But, let’s face it, I do not need shelves upon shelves of books I bought at thrift stores and charity sales because I might want to read them someday. 

         I read always and I do go through books aplenty.  I’m no speed reader, but constant practice makes you faster at anything.  I work and I work on my writing and there’s only so much time for reading.  Long past are the days I would call in sick to work and spend all day in bed reading a book.  Realistically, how many books do I read a year?  My guess is around 25, maybe 30, but I could be way off; I don’t waste my time counting things.  So if I kept 100 odd books (which I did), that’s a few years covered right there (and I do re-read things I’m fond of; you never really get something the first time).  So is there really a necessity for owning several hundred books?

         I cut down more drastically than ever in my recent divestment.  It was like I was seeing things with a new eye, fresh perspective, a fresh realism.  So many of those books I just did not need.  Or the likelihood of my ever needing the book again is balanced against the sheer bulk of material objects owned and how they weigh on my life.  And it’s not just books.  That happens to be the area where I have compulsive shopping habits (okay, full disclosure: I also hoard tea, but being a consumable, it doesn’t pile up the same way).  There were a lot of things I was keeping for “sentimental value,” stuff from my childhood.  Well I hope the Goodwill appreciated my paper dolls, beloved stuffed animals and 1980s Archie comics.  Sentimental value and nice memories may be valid, but if you care about these things your life becomes saturated with material objects; you live surrounded by unnecessaries, wrapped in pieces of the past.  If you own a house and are planted, then it’s fine to live immersed in your objects if that’s what you like.  But when, like me, you’re moving three times in two years, it might be time to make some changes in your accumulation habits.