5 Minutes On Why I Love Reading Books

    One of my earliest memories is begging my Dad to teach me to read. . .or at least the moments leading up to being able to read;  elation and a profound sense of accomplishment overwhelmed me.  Awed by the impact books and written materials made on my young heart and mind, I gorged on these at every opportunity.  To this day I still feel that sense of elation when quiet moments afford me the opportunity to read.  These days I also feel that I was MADE to read books, like it's something I must do in order to live.  Currently my life circumstances miserly mete out mini moments for this need of mine.  Occasionally, unable to bear it any more,  I will set aside all but the MOST urgent minutia and read for hours on end; usually I feel guilty afterward, though I am filled up by the "stolen" book-reading time.  Generally when I read, time sprints past me unnoticed.  I laugh, I cry, I am frustrated. . .I emote with the ebb and flow of the story/information.  Reading books make me feel alive.  I don't understand the mechanics of it, but watching tv, movies, plays, or other media does not affect me the same way.  I think I READ somewhere that this is because reading is an active pursuit, while watching is passive.  I think I agree with that, except when it comes to me watching a sporting event, like March Madness or the Super Bowl :-).  Learning to read is one of the greatest gifts I was ever given.  


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