I Think I'm Reading Too Much
I don’t think I read more than the average person, at least not in the kind of shocking way that would cause your dinner guests to project forced surprise into an uncomfortable exclamation along the lines of, “Oh my gosh that is so impressive! How do you find the time?!” But I do enjoy the occasional novel, the occasional sad tale, the coming-of-age stories that somehow never feel repetitive in my mind, and the latest well-cited non-fiction about some obscure topic that is so wonderfully contrived it’s hard not to enjoy.
But, I think it’s possible I’m reading too much. This new irrational and pretentious fear began shortly after I read a book called Pipe Dreams: The Urgent Global Quest to Transform The Toilet by Chelsea Wald. The title is self-explanatory, and I finished reading it in three sittings, willingly and eagerly enveloping myself in the world of feces, which was an interesting choice. I felt an odd sense of panic wash over me upon completing the book, a feeling that I could later consistently attribute to many other post-readings.
The book was about 350 pages, not including its extensive bibliography (if I had to guess, it’s currently far from my reach and I’m not in the business of bestirring myself right now). Not a very long read, and an approachable one, surprisingly. It merely took a handful of days to increase my knowledge of what happens to our shit when we flush it down the toilet tenfold. I could now tell you that a San Francisco-based company (obviously) was purchasing Stanford students’ sewage by the pound to eventually be repurposed for growing a garden in an old Honda dealership. I’ll leave it at that.
Three sittings were all it took to simply know more than I previously did on a topic that I hardly realized was being studied in such granular detail. And I know what you’re thinking. Yeah, that’s called reading you dumbass. And you would be correct! Generally, that’s how this whole thing called learning works. And I enjoy the learnings, I really do. But every time I finish a book I am launched into the mindset that I should just know more. Not only should I know more, but there is just so much to know. It began to bother me that I was walking through life completely oblivious to all the details of various topics that I seemingly readily had access to. They were sitting ten blocks away from me or could be delivered straight to my door in a matter of days. How foolish of me to not have a firm understanding of the wash closet until the year 2021!
But, I’m not just talking about arcane topics like Chelsea Wald’s lovely lavatory piece. There are so many hypotheses and analyses that likely appear obvious to most, but not to me at all. I realized I wanted all of the information, which is greedy, and irrational, and very, very, dumb. I have taken on a strong desire to be able to conduct myself on the basis of reading as much as I possibly can so that I am able to make decisions small and large with a strong foundation to inform them. I know — horrible.
The issue (although this isn’t really a real issue) is just a tad paradoxical. I believe I may be reading too much because it often leaves me stressed and overwhelmed by just how much information is out there. Often times I feel quite dumb, not only in the literal sense but also for forcing this odd expectation upon myself. The expectation has nothing to do with wanting to be smarter. I’m not currently predicting that The Corner Bookstore will solely launch my IQ into outer space by the end of the year. I don’t see myself becoming an expert on, quite literally, anything. But I wish I had a minimum understanding of all the big stuff. This desire usually beats the dumb stress and keeps the circular process going. I am now reading more than when I first began this newsletter. I worry that I should be reading in a particular order. I become concerned that certain topics are time-sensitive, and must be looked into as soon as possible. I feel rushed and a little incompetent, but I also feel slightly more fulfilled, enjoying it during those moments when you get lost in it all and read without care and awareness for time. Is there a word for that?