Books? What books?

So I have a few books. Maybe close to 400 of them. Not that I like to read so much, I mean I do but I'll maybe only read 4-5 in any given year. But i just love the actual books. As things. I like the thought that I'm holding some one's hard work and creative energy. Almost like I'm keeping it safe from demise. Somehow the fact that there are millions of other copies haven't factored into my psychosis. But really what i liked beyond the actual book was the hunt for them.

So at one point I thought I'd start collecting first edition books by storming garage sales here and there. I quickly accumulated my holdings and filled book cases to sagging shelved capacity, and bought even more.

So the thought was that i would sell them online and make a little profit to feed my passion for finding the books. However, I loathed the agonizing task of listing them for sale. I quickly realized that most of my time was going to be data entry and shipping and not hunting. It totally killed the buzz. But not the desire.

So today whilst killing a little time as the daughter did her last behind the wheel I walked into an antique store. I mentioned my experience as an obsessed book hoarder and my self imposed exile from my hobby. And they said, "why don't you rent a few shelves here so you can sell some and be able to buy more."

Angels sang, book worms turned. I pressed them and said that I had thought about antique stores but thought that only old decorative pieces would be appropriate. They said no they sell alot of books and all kinds. And so I think I'm back to garage sailing. Unfortunately the season is nearly past, but estate sales aren't so bad either. In fact in some respects better since you get the treasured books and not just the cast offs.

It's funny as I was talking to a friend last night I came up with a nice little existential saying that went like this, "Once you start down a path that connects with your inner soul, your feet will find the rest of the path" Never mind that inner soul is redundant, the point is that i allowed myself to dream for a second and my feet found the next step down a path. Just like magic. But maybe the lesson is that I engaged people while I was there, I harassed the customers and clerks bridging elevator like personal solitude and beginning unsolicited conversations. Without this interaction i never would have gained this insight.

More valuable maybe was another observation. An existential saying I like is that you should not worry about the path only the next step. But so often that kind of leaves me often with a 'now what' experience and not really any revelation or onward and upward opportunities. What I learned is that simply wandering into a path isn't enough. That merely is evidence of desire, it does not necessarily lead to the next step. You need to begin the journey sure, so it is critical that you step forward. So wandering into a path isn't enough to find the next steps, then what is? This is what i learned today: you must also engage in the surroundings. You can't simply stand still and look around, you must experience and engage. Critical component. I think I just became smarter.