That (which) I am Reading
I've been wanting to share some of my latest intellectual influences. But before delving into what I’m reading, I first want to acknowledge the miracle that I am reading once again.
From the time I graduated college up until two years ago, I suffered a shameful inner conflict over the notion that I didn’t read enough.
As a child, I scarfed down books like popcorn. I read my first novel, The Secret Garden, independently, at the age of seven. I looked forward to weekend trips to the bookstore, which, as my younger readers may need a reminder, is how everyone attained their literature in the 1990’s.
But somewhere along the way, I lost that drive. Running from chronic trauma turned a once straight-A bookworm into a dropout who only began college four years after obtaining her GED, the time between having been spent searching desperately for meaning, belonging, and identity, first in radical, anti-capitalist, vegan, anarchist groups, then in mantra-chanting, incense-burning new-age cults. Once my formal education was finally resumed under the reluctant recognition that the “real world” would otherwise carry on without me, required reading became a task to reluctantly chug through. Active engagement in class discussions, combined with notable writing and test-taking skills, masked my inattentiveness outside of the classroom and compensated for the inability to sit still and focus on something I was not creating myself. Smartphones and social media exacerbated my then-undiagnosed, perhaps trauma-induced ADHD, and over years I lost countless hours to Facebook that could have been spent far more meaningfully. My childhood conviction that it was practically a given I would become an author someday slipped further from my grasp as I lived with the quiet shame of having lost my literacy. What kind of writer does not read?
By the time my ADHD was finally diagnosed and treated - in my 30’s - my impulsivity had created a very busy life. What do you get when you combine creativity, time-blindness, intelligence, curiosity, poor relational decision-making, and a wide range of interests? You get a life you can never keep up with. Hence, it wasn’t time to read yet. Never mind the fact that I didn’t have (or want) children. I had plants to water, Airbnb guests to chat with, clients to get back to, emails to stare at dreadfully, rabbit holes to research (via YouTube, podcasts, and Wikipedia), relationships to fret over, laundry to fold, habits to attempt to break, a desk and drawers to declutter - anything but books to read. Besides, I already spent so many hours a day sitting still, and the mere thought of spending even more time sitting made my body feel heavy and achy. While the licensure renewal requirements of my field demanded that I participate in continuing education - which I did, in person; this works better for me - and while I continued to grow my learning via aforementioned self-study, as well as personal and professional experience - I remained persistently, quietly, gnawed upon by the shameful sense that something was missing and I was to blame.
So how did I break this cycle? Three factors played significant roles: the diagnosis and treatment of my ADHD; the isolation of the covid pandemic pressuring me to find stimulation in the inner world; and the recognition and embracing of my kinesthetic, auditory learning style. In other words, I accepted the relative ease with which I learned from podcasts and videos, and surrendered my desire to rekindle a love of reading to the willingness to fulfill it primarily via audiobooks while I gardened or tidied. In sum, my personal recipe for reading is: Ritalin, Audible, and a global pandemic.
Now, a year and a half after the start of the latter, I recognize I have fundamentally changed: I am a voracious reader once again, with 64 titles in my Audible library and even - lo and behold! - two tangible books on my nightstand. And wouldn’t you know: my renewed literacy has, as I had hoped, refined my skills as a writer, broadened my active vocabulary, and deepened my capacity to concentrate on and organize complex ideas. I finally purchased that fancy software designed for complex manuscripts, and I dare say, a book of my own is, at some pace or another, on its way.
Only with this story anchoring necessary humility and gratitude for the fact that I read at all do I feel prepared to speak to what I am reading and how it has evolved my thought processes.
At this moment, my must-read top pick is…
Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, by Oliver Burkeman. Burkeman’s approach to time turns on its head all that we pompous, death-denying Americans believe we know about it and instead tears at the implicit fabric comprising our relationship with time itself. This book is a wake-up call, not only to the reality of our mortality, but to that of other limitations as well, while reminding us that those very limitations are what render our choices meaningful. It illuminates the otherwise obscure, mystifyingly counterintuitive irony of how unbearably uncomfortable it is to direct our precious attention toward that which we claim to desire and value. It implores us to claim this sovereign life that is our birthright, and live it as we so choose. In the process, we commit to some things, let go of others, and be here now. His elocution on his own audiobook is striking and drives the messages home, though I’m sure it’s an equally good read in print.
Other top picks:
Burkeman aside, the two thinkers who have most powerfully influenced my thought process over the past two years are Jonathan Haidt and Jordan Peterson, both psychologists. Haidt studies morality and social behavior, while Peterson is equal parts clinician and philosopher.
Haidt’s The Righteous Mind is an enlightening read for anyone seeking to better understand why others think differently from them on hot button moral issues, primarily politics and religion. This work is necessary to overcome political polarization, reconnect with empathy, and become a more effective communicator across moral divides. In The Coddling of the American Mind, Haidt and co-author Greg Lukianoff examine how “good intentions and bad ideas” in parenting and education are hindering today’s youth from developing the character, courage, and intellect to succeed. In The Happiness Hypothesis Haidt presents equally solid, well-researched yet digestible literature for anyone wanting to understand their own capacity for psychological health in practical terms.
Jordan Peterson’s bad rap in the woke community should not deter those who are capable of thinking for themselves. It is tragic that some stubborn, self-righteous bullies have chosen to misrepresent the perspective of one of the most brilliant and spiritually essential thinkers of our era, deterring people from hearing much-needed universal wisdom. Peterson is a deep well who communicates through a mixture of radical honesty, tough love, and archetypal symbolism. I encourage anyone with a mind open to guidance to start with his 12 Rules for Life.
I am currently reading The Better Angels of Our Nature by Steven Pinker, a much different light on history than any I was previously accustomed to. This thick tome forces me to open my eyes to the incredible amount of human ingenuity that has come before me to create a world that is — contrary to popular opinion — far more safe, clean, free, and abundant than that enjoyed by almost any previous generation.
Two books on gender have helped me understand the past few years’ exponential surge in rapid onset gender dysphoria among adolescent girls who had no history of gender dysphoria prior to its recent trending social contagion. This is a phenomenon that deserves its own consideration separate from the norm found across times and cultures: a fraction of a percentage of boys consistently report feeling like girls from a young age; this remains stable throughout their development; and many of them go on to become transsexual women. Stable, early-onset gender dysphoria in girls is historically even rarer than that found in boys. There are a number of factors contributing to current trends, as well as long term impacts, that deserve careful consideration from the adults responsible for the upbringing, education, mental health, and medical care of adolescents. I recommend The End of Gender by Deborah Soh and Irreversible Damage by Abigail Shrier.
Other highly influential reads:
How to Have Impossible Conversations - Peter Boghossian and James Lindsay
The Joy of Movement - Kelly McGonigal
The Confidence Game - Maria Konnikova
Freakonomics - Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner
Current reads, if I can get through them:
Cosmic Queries - Neil deGrasse Tyson
Notes from the Underground - Fyodor Dostoevsky
Beyond Order - Jordan Peterson
Apocalypse Never - Michael Shellenberger
Runners-up of the past two years:
Karamo - Karamo Brown
ADHD 2.0 - Edward M. Hallowell and John J. Ratey
Goodbye, Things - Fumio Sasaki and Eriko Sugita
Wish list/future reads:
A Hunter-Gatherer’s Guide to the Twenty-First Century by Heather Heying and Bret Weinstein, coming out this September
A Conflict of Visions by Thomas Sowell
Please Stop Helping Us - Jason L. Riley
Why We’re Polarized - Ezra Klein
Born a Crime - Trevor Noah
Trust - Pete Buttigieg
Sapiens - Yuval Noah Harari
Mating in Captivity - Esther Perel
