Feeding my Book Obsession

When the average person thinks of extravagance, what comes to mind is probably spending money on junk food, jewelry, or even cars. Things that aren’t necessarily needs. But for me, the one thing that I can buy at the drop of a hat, no questions asked, is books!

I've always had a thing for good literature. At first glance, it might seem noble. I mean, I have a library filled with self-developmental books, books that will help shape me into a reasonably intelligent member of society.

And initially, it was this same mindset that made me drop 3000 naira out of the 5000 naira I had brought to the market to buy food stuff. I ended up leaving the market that day with two cups of rice and a book.

That night, I went hungry since I made an impulsive purchase instead of cooking the jollof rice that day. I thought to myself, at least I will be wiser after reading the book.

As I retired to bed that night, clutching my book close to my chest, with a loudly rumbling stomach, I finally decided to ask myself the long overdue question. Did I really need the knowledge that badly? What was the essence of feeding my mind when my body was just as hungry?

After that incident, I began to take inventory of my books. I realized I had amassed a lot of them. Most of which, in all honesty, I hadn’t read past the first ten pages. Why was I kidding myself?

I realized that my book buying was becoming a real problem. There is this happy feeling that rushes through my body whenever I come across a book, especially one with pretty colors. They would always call out to me, and like a puppet to its master, I would succumb and answer the call.

But the truth was that, over time, the cost of these books started to tell on my finances. I could no longer afford certain things. Slowly, anxiety started to mix in with the joy I felt previously when looking at my book stack. The books that I was once excited to finish one day now became a reminder of yet another task to add to my to-do list.

I was literally funding a new form of anxiety. I was forced to review my bad habit. The intention that led to the downward spiral in the first place was pure and harmless. But over time, the relevance of the intention blurred out and was replaced by the outcome of it.

I like to think I am a well-balanced minimalist and that minimalism was applied across all areas of my life. But when it comes to books, minimalism is forgotten so quickly. I used to think that one should never put a limit to the amount of knowledge that one can learn.

But on second thought, minimalism doesn’t necessarily have to limit my reading in any way. Besides, my problem was different. I was becoming a book hoarder, and I was reading said books. So I made the decision to stop buying new ones, and to focus on the ones I have now.

I’m slowing making my way through them, page by page, book by book. Hopefully I’ll be done with them all before the last quarter of the year.

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Thanks for reading!🤗

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