My Silent Companions

Books are my sanctuary, my silent companions. Surrounded by them, I find calm, safety, and a comforting sense of my own smallness. It's in this space that I feel like a speck of dust amidst vast galaxies of knowledge.

Daily, I carve out moments to simply exist among my books. This is my meditation, my grounding ritual. While some view Tsundoku as a vice, I embrace it unapologetically. I acquire books knowing full well I may never read them all, yet their mere presence nourishes my being.

In my book-lined refuge, I close my eyes for a few precious minutes each day. I emerge feeling diminished, humbled. My bookshelves are master craftsmen, skillfully chiseling away at my ego.

This practice keeps me perpetually hungry for knowledge and delightfully foolish in my pursuits.

No wonder, book shelves of various sizes are scattered throughout my home. They're on side tables, near my work desk, in the library room, and even in my recording space. Real books and kindles are my constant companions, wherever I go.