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.
