The Joy of Books
I thought it might be nice to have a bit of levity and focus occasionally on the things I’m finding cheering and joyful, rather than lots of resources and things for you to be *doing*. As today is World Book Day, what better thing to kick off with than books!
One of my happy places: Daunt Books in Marylebone, London
Photo by Alexandra Kirr on Unsplash
Some of my earliest memories are of books and they have been a constant source of comfort, hilarity, tears and happiness throughout my life. I remember tracing the words on the back of my now very battered copy of The Tales of Narnia that featured the first three stories, for some reason trying to make them into a song (yeah, I’m really not sure why either …); I remember the thrill of the Book Fair magazine we’d get weeks in advance to pre-order our selections and being beside myself the day it finally came to school. I remember my best friend bringing me this great new book about a boy wizard she’d just read and staying up until 3am to finish it and her laughing at me the next day; I remember being in the depths of severe depression in 2011 and re-reading my beloved Little Women and being filled with a faint glimmer of hope that things would be alright again one day.
Escaping into other worlds and other peoples lives, no matter how sad, difficult or scary has always filled me with joy. When I was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome in 2016 it was in some ways comforting. I could make no sense of the fact that for over a year I had been unable to read properly. I initially put it down to the high dose of morphine I was on but that continued to make less sense as time went on. Why could I read no more than a page before words would swim before my eyes and I’d fall asleep? Why could I not remember what that page had even said the next day? For someone who would devour books at an incredible rate before, it was one of the most frustrating experiences I had when the CFS developed, and left me feeling weirdly untethered – like I wasn’t the same Shanna anymore. I know this is something so many of us go through when chronic illness feels like it’s eroding all the things that make us, us.
It’s only been in the last year that I’ve seen a real improvement. I still can’t read at the same pace as before – my concentration just isn’t what it was. I am more practiced at recognising when I have a prime opportunity to cram a few pages in though, so I know when to seize it! It’s useless me trying to if I’m already feeling tired – I’ll be asleep in minutes – so it’s not quite the same relaxing bedtime routine that I used to enjoy but I take what I can get with immense pleasure and gratitude. I bought a lot of books during lockdown last year (who am I kidding – I always buy lots of books …) and was gifted with a fantastically varied selection for Christmas and my birthday by loved ones. These are just some of the ones I have finished so far and a peek at the TBR stack on my bedside table!
