Fifteen years ago, my father-in-law helped me build a big bookshelf. Over the years, it accumulated a lot of books. This past summer, we moved the bookshelf so that we could replace the flooring. This piece of furniture has been lying on its side in the basement since June. I wanted to refinish it and give it a fresh coat of sealer before putting books back on the shelf. As a result of this bookshelf being out of commission, there are small piles of books in every corner of the house.
I finally got the bookshelf up to snuff and back against the wall. This empty bookshelf overwhelmed me with a sense of joy. It was almost euphoric. There is a vast potential that fills an empty bookshelf. I can’t wait to put books back on the shelves but I know that, once it is full, the joyous potential will be gone. I love books but right now I am enjoying these empty shelves.
My life is an empty bookshelf.