“We weary of everything, except understanding.” -Fernando Pessoa

At the beginning of the year I set a goal of reading 26 books. I figured I should ease my way back into reading after literally years without reading more than one book per year. I had been wrapped up in so many other things, and have written before about how reading is not only logistically demanding (it takes time and focus), it is emotionally and intellectually demanding. And I just did not want to feel or think at that level.

Well, it’s not even the end of the first quarter of the year, and I’ve already read my 26. I’ve veered more toward non-fiction, but I will incorporate more fiction with time. I will probably have a word or two to say about the things I have read in the coming days.

I have not yet wearied of this great reading experiment, but there are so many other wearisome things. “Running after a squirrel”, as one colleague put it, in one part of life. Helplessly watching other people’s mighty struggles against losing battles. Even sleep is a bit wearisome.