I sometimes wonder about what makes the difference between people who like to read and those who don’t.
A non-reader once told me that reading is a waste of his time; he would rather go outside and explore the world, to experience things first-hand.
People like that are of course entitled to their opinion, but I am convinced they miss something. Readers also go outside. They also experience the world outside them. But when they go into a book, they explore more than just the words on a page (at least that’s how it works for me). A reader explores the world that the author of the book has laid out. A reader follows the lines on the map that makes the story, sees the colours and shapes that are pointed out, or creates his/her own colours and shapes where there is need. Reading makes a person live new lives, experience feelings in a new way perhaps, explore familiar worlds in a new way, and unfamiliar worlds from a comfy armchair.
I don’t know how you feel about this, dear reader, but reading, exploring the inside of other worlds through the words of an author, has changed and enhanced my perception of the world around us. That world suddenly has new shapes, colours, angles and meanings. It even shows me new challenges, and it divulges new knowledge, or puts old knowledge in a new light.
Perhaps non-readers do not need that, do not want nor seek that. To each their own. For me however, reading has become a vital part of living.