For years I piled five to twenty books on my nightstand, only to ignore the next aspirational read to add yet another book to the pile. Until recently, I have tended to toggle between high-quality fiction, political or historical nonfiction (often biographies), and beach reads (mostly mysteries and science fiction). Spiritual or self-help books, I read only as part of spiritual practice or when I write and teach them. This “system” moved me through a lot of content, yet, I was always judging myself:
I should be reading new spiritual stuff continuously.
IÂ should be reading more nonfiction.
IÂ shouldn’t read as much beach.
Now, the solution to shoulding on myself isn’t always changing myself, but in this instance, I opted to switch to a new “system” (if someone who has a nightstand that looks like this could be said to have a system):
These days I alternate between
1 chapter spiritual
1 chapter political or historical nonfiction
1 chapter fiction (could be either high-quality or beach)
This method, which I’ve been using for about a month, lets me enjoy and see progress in multiple books at once while largely suspending judgment of myself for what I’m focussing on at any given time.
So currently on the nightstand are:
Spiritual: Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda (1946). This book is almost as ubiquitous as the Gideon Bible once was, yet I never once cracked it. Now I have trouble putting it down as I toggle. When one of my gurus (Patrick Harbula) mentioned it recently, I decided it was time. It was; he had a fascinating life.
The problem with fiction is that when I’m into it, I have much more trouble putting down the book after one chapter. I want to see what comes next. And, of course, that’s the whole point of the beach reads. Housekeeping is no beach read, yet I always want to turn the page. That’s the best combination, of course, “high-quality” and beach-like page-turner feel. Tom Lake by Ann Patchett, which I just finished, was like that. Had a lot of trouble keeping to my system while I was reading that.
Sigh, I think I just need to forgive myself for the beach reads. If Ken, the misogynist/feminist icon, can do it, so can I: