The other day as I was hating my life, suffocating under the invisible weight of the 8 page paper I had to pump out in one night, I found myself in a quiet little corner of the library. Instead of being a place of fewer distractions however, it proved to not be the best place to focus. Besides the always entertaining pastime of people-watching, I found myself being begged, taunted, and enticed by all the leather spines on the shelves.
In the grind of school, I’ve forgotten how much I enjoy being a scholar. How much I love the smell of old books, the classical music plugged into my ears, the pen tucked behind my ear, the weight in my arms as they’re laden with more books than I ever intended to pick up. I love the muted silence of the long crowded shelves, a haphazard masterpiece of color and texture and words, yearning to share their piece of the world’s mysteries.
I love that even in the hushed quiet isolation, you feel connected—connected to a world of other students, of professors, of writers, of historians, of characters, of geniuses, of nobodies, of somebodies, and of tradition where time holds still and you stand united in the pursuit of learning.
What happened to learning for learning’s sake? What happened to opening a book of my choice, on the topic of my choice and just reading to read, to expand my knowledge, to understand something new? When did I allow learning to merely become skimming the surface, cramming knowledge for a test that will soon be forgotten, or biding my time and counting down the days till I’m through?
I want to love learning again. I need to love learning again. I want to LEARN...not just go to school.