Lottie, Sam, and John walked into a bookstore...

The end has come!

Yesterday was the last day of final exams, and I think a friend of mine put it best when he said, "I think I'm going to make T-shirts that say: 'I survived Fall semester 2012'." While this might not have been my most academically difficult semester, it was definitely the busiest and (I think) the most challenging as I learned and grew in so many different ways. Juggling a part-time job, senior-level coursework, 12 hour clinical rotations in Indianapolis, and a social life was more draining than I realized, and I pulled into my driveway last night thinking that a break was long overdue. 

Our school gives us three and a half weeks for Christmas holiday, and I fully intend on optimizing every minute. Most of my friends spent their first morning of vacation sleeping in. That's actually a pretty reasonable thing to do...sometimes I long for normalcy. In case this hasn't already been established, I am not what most people consider normal or rational. Most people like afternoons. Or evenings. Or Fridays. Times when it is socially acceptable to be an alert and functioning human being. I like Mondays. And mornings. I have an irrational love for mornings. I'm usually perfectly happy to be awake at 6:30. And yes, that is AM. 

I also love reading. For fun. And books. Books are fantastic.

Yeah...like I said. Not normal.

So, on my first day of vacation, I set my alarm for 7:15 (it is the first day of holiday after all, I'll let myself sleep in a little bit) and did what any self-respecting book geek with an active library card and three weeks of free time would do - I went treasure hunting in the local libraries surrounding my hometown. After gleefully prowling the aisles of three separate systems, I was not disappointed as my efforts unearthed a heaping mountain of gold. I always savor the expression on a librarian's face when I plop a stack of books on the counter and hold out my card with an almost manic grin. They might not all get read in the time I have before spring semester, especially with all the other things I've planned, but a valiant effort will be made.

Near the end of my book-hunting, my dad and I stumbled across this dusty, second-hand bookshop tucked away in one of the many street-side storefront niches that give small towns their charm and character. My heart skipped along in a joyful beat when I stepped through the door. The entire room was literally filled from floor to ceiling with books. All kinds of books - falling to pieces, fresh off the printer, well-known and accepted, obscure and unfamiliar, classics, flops, history, fiction, biographies, textbooks.

If I had opened the door to find a room full of diamonds, I would have been less ecstatic.

Why is that? What is it about books that captures the heart and tugs at the mind?
Imagine this: imagine that you had the opportunity, for a short moment, to abandon yourself and live vicariously through the thoughts, experiences, and senses of another person. Imagine that there was a way for that person's feelings, emotions, ideas, and concepts of the world to be snugly packaged in a compact form and transmitted to your brain in such a way that you understood what life looks like to them. That is what words are. That is what a book does.
Books are about communication and connection. That is what makes them so valuable. Even if a certain book never earns any awards or becomes a national best-seller, it is still important because someone somewhere took the time to write those words and put pen to paper. They are valuable because they're someone's thoughts in physical form. How powerful! Books provide people with an intimate connection, one mind to another in this human experience. Not only can that connection happen between individuals within the same generation, but it can cross generations, decades, centuries! A book that I hold in my hand is a tangible link to the past - I can be close to a person that I've never met before, who might not even live while I'm living!

Part of the reason I was so captivated by the used bookstore was because I am grateful that someone was making the effort to preserve all of those words. All those thousands of words on thousands of pages written by people across the globe during different times, maybe in different languages, all pulling us together in a common unity.
Perhaps this is all a bit romanticized, but just think - that is how I see the world. And now that you've read what I've written, you have experienced that vision and have shared with me in a small part of my life.

What an incredibly beautiful concept.

"A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies, said Jojen. The man who never reads lives only one."

~George R.R. Martin