In our little home of only about 1200 square feet, we've managed to accumulate a collection of books that makes me really happy. I lovingly call our small place the forest loft, because it's cozy, and I’m a sucker for a good name. But it’s not that romantic of a home, and with five people sharing it, there's not a lot of room for stuff. We've had to be really selective and get rid of anything we don't need. That process has helped me grow as a person as I’ve had to get to the root of things: what do we love, what do we find beautiful, and what truly serves our family?
We’ve found books, good books, are something we’re not willing to easily part with. They are so much more than the little space they take up, they are portals into other worlds, opportunities to see the past and the future differently; they serve as windows to knowledge, imagination, and personal growth.
To make space for the many that we’ve held on to, Matthias designed floating shelves in the boys' room, and we had a custom bookshelf made for our main living area. We also have baskets of books in every room and a very happy collection on our fireplace hearth.
It seems the first time anyone sees that specifically they ask me if the boys mess them up or move them around all the time. Yeah, sometimes they do, especially Auden. But the boys are used to my collection of books and don’t think they’re that interesting compared to the many cool books that we have just for them.
Most of the time, when the hearth collection is shuffled about, it's me, Kate, and our friends who end up moving them around. I love how the collection on the fireplace never looks the same from one day to the next.
I love that you never know what you'll find in that basket under our train table that we use as a coffee table, because the books are being taken out, read, and moved around our home every day.
I want my boys to grow up with freedom and ease around books. I’d love for their memories of our home to include many moments of sitting alone or together, digging in, getting lost in story. I desire for them to have a childhood rich in storytelling.
What’s that quote? “If you want someone to know the truth, tell them. If you want someone to love the truth, tell them a story.”
I grew up in a home with a large library. I remember taking the organized books off their shelves and looking at them on the floor. I wouldn’t take a book off and return it. I’d take more, and more, and more, until the shelves were empty and the floor disappeared beneath the piles.
If my mom was ever upset about this, she didn’t express it. I do remember spending time re-shelving, but I don’t remember feeling like I was in trouble for using our books, even if I was disorganized and greedy in the way I went through them.
I never felt restrained around the books. They were ours, to adventure into, to enjoy, to learn from, to care for.
I felt some ownership of them. I believe this is where my love of books was born. And that love of physical books has never left me, even though I’ve gone through seasons where I listen to many more books than I hold in my hands and read.
If I could read and do dishes, I would. But I can’t.
I can listen though. I can listen and enter into the authors world. I can build visions of my future when I read inspirational and encouraging author-mentors. Or I can leave my forest loft and enter someone else’s reality in fiction.
I can leave here, without leaving. And I always come back a little bit better, a little bit changed. That’s the thing about reading good writing and prioritizing living books. You don’t get to the end of them the same person. The right words or story leave a little mark, a little touch on the inside of you, and you’re changed, even so subtly.
some photos including our hearth book collection. the books are moved in the winter into our windowsills so we can use the fireplace.