Recently I’ve been getting back into reading blogs. It’s something I’ve always done on and off, but tapping into what the kids are calling the ‘indie web’ has uncovered a lot of personal blogs that were (are!) a lot like mine. They are wonderful insights in a small part of a persons life. They meander. They have no clear topic or focus. They are part diary, part journal, part dumping ground.
I am subscribing to RSS feeds left, right, and centre. I am adding in interesting websites, some old favourites, some new discoveries. I am being mindful and making sure I don’t over subscribe and so dull the pleasure of a quick skim. It is a joy to return to this format of consumption.
It’s also noticeable, to me at least, that this has neatly coincided with my move away from most social media.
Part of my Digital Detox efforts, which are wholly focused on the volume of digital data directly under my control, also had me assessing things like screen time, social media use and, as I’ve hinted at a couple of times recently, I have silently slipped away from Facebook, Threads, and Instagram, as much as I can.
Yes, I am now more active on BlueSky but that feels like a more natural fit and has the benefit of being much less big bad evil corporation. I also don’t scroll it endlessly and have, again, been very careful with curation of who and what I follow on there.
I am enjoying reading blogs again and that has parlayed nicely into something that has been a life long passion for me.
I read books
They are about to bulldoze the town library (they’ve built a replacement already so all is not lost!) that I used to visit once a week with my Dad. I can still remember the smell of the place, and as Dad wandered off to the large rows of shelves to pick his next three books for the week, I’d turn and scamper down the stairs to the children’s area… but I’ve told you all this before.
That love of books has remained with me and while some years I’ve read more than others, it’s something I’ve fallen back into more and more these past few months.
Yes, stepping away from social media has obviously helped; the avoidance of doom-scrolling is noticeable in my sleep improving as I no longer lie awake scrolling aimlessly for the next stupid video that is about a stupid thing that I don’t actually care about.
It is more than that though and for me it becomes about value, and being far more mindful about what I spend my time on. Like you there are plenty of things to do each and every day, and being an avid list maker (thanks Mum) it becomes a double edged sword as much able to cut you if you don’t get the thing checked off the list as it is if you forget to put it on their in the first place.
So when I am choosing NOT to do something, I am finding that I am less willing to spend time on it if there is no real payback.
I am more than happy to admit that this is all largely because I’m getting older, and it’s something I’ve been pondering for a while now, with the distinct danger of falling into the habit of deeming things ‘for the kids’ more and more (I don’t like that line of thinking, just as I equally don’t like viewing The Brit Awards and realising I’m not entirely sure who everyone is…).
And at this point I now neatly turn back to reading blogs because this wonderful quote popped up this morning.
Reading books in one’s youth is like looking at the moon through a crevice; reading books in middle age is like looking at the moon in one’s courtyard; and reading books in old age is like looking at the moon on an open terrace. This is because the depth of benefits of reading varies in proportion to the depth of one’s own experience.
— Chang Ch’ao (h/t Futility Closet)
Yes.
Without a doubt this holds true, and as the novels I choose are also deepening and broadening in taste, so I find the absorption, the loss of oneself to a good book is deeper than ever.
I am a reader and in some respects a writer, so my love of the written word, whether delivered as prose, poem, or lyric, is deep.
I write all of this largely to make sure that people know that I am a reader. I am proud to be a reader, proud of my preference of the written word over the short form video, proud to have the ability (and yes, the privilege afforded to me) to read for long periods of time without interruption – although that is most usually in bed and whilst doom-scrolling in bed is bad, staying up to finish a gripping story until 1 am is just fine (don’t ask me, I don’t make the rules) – and firmly believe text is king.
As ever when I write up such thoughts, the timeliness may appear somewhat bandwagon-esque, and whilst the coincidental nature of finding the quote above not long after finishing reading my 14th book of the year so far (and no, I have no targets) and being struck by that number, and then making the immediate and obvious correlation of NOT being on social media so often, I can only assure you (dear reader!) that not only did that quote appear today, but the myriad of thoughts on this topic were already popping around my head because of the arrival yesterday of issue 378 of the ever wonderful Dense Discovery newsletter which opened thus:
Reading is dead. Attention spans are toast. We are, collectively, heading toward a post-literate wasteland of reels and soundbites – our once-curious brains reduced to dopamine-seeking mush. At least, that’s the general vibe online.
In the newsletter opening, Kai goes on to highlight and discuss a wonderful article by Adam Mastroianni that, as ever, outlines thoughts that have been gathering in my own brain for a while now, although with much more clarity and thought than I have mustered. As the author of the article suggests:
Everyone, even people without liberal arts degrees, knows the difference between the cheap pleasures and the deep pleasures. No one pats themselves on the back for spending an hour watching mukbang videos, no one touts their screen-time like they’re setting a high score, and no one feels proud that their hand instinctively starts groping for their phone whenever there’s a lull in conversation.
And there it is, the very reason I have moved more to reading books, or even blogs, of falling back in love with the written word, with screens of text waiting for me to consume them. I still look at stupid videos but as some point in the past few months something has changed. Maybe it’s the state of the world and it’s constant barrage on social media that pushed me away, maybe it’s my own digital detox and in taking more thought as to what I publish and consume. Or maybe it’s just coincidence, a cycle that will change again in the future (twas ever thus).
It’s akin to the lean-back versus the lean-in consumption models (~), it’s that depth of pleasure, of value, and I couldn’t agree more with the article: Text is King.
It’s also why I’ve remained a blogger for so long, I realise, as much for vanity as for the fact that I too can use words, I can type them on this screen here and when I publish them you will read them on your screen there.
And it’s why I will remain a reader, why I’ll take my son to the library and let him roam free to discover his own likes and dislikes when he’s a bit older, because even when looking at the moon through a crevice, it’s still a wondrous sight to behold.
