The Art of Becoming is a newsletter about finding value in adversity and embracing discomfort. Each week, I share an idea on how to find fulfillment and a little joy and be more resilient, wiser, and better along the way. It starts with you and me embracing discomfort.
And together, we learn how not to waste our lives.
I hope you join me.
Books made my life
When I was nine, my father called me a bibliophile. That I would rather read than eat. I think that was the only nice thing he ever said to me.
To say I devour books is like saying a shark chews with its mouth closed. It is an understatement and doesn’t come close to describing my love books.
Last year, I read around 160 books. It was a slow year.
Books saved me from a horrific childhood. They were my escape to other worlds and showed me what a good parent could be. From them, I learned that I could be a good man. That I could be a good father.
Reading books taught me how to ask the right questions. As Voltaire wrote, “Judge a man by his questions rather than his answers.” When my daughter was diagnosed with a brain tumor, my ability to ask the right questions led me to the right neurosurgeon and, eventually, the right oncologist.
They became my salvation.
Books did more than shelter me after my mother and father beat me with a barbell. Or offering me a moment of peace from the torrential downpour of cancer.
They taught me how to be me.
From reading, I learned to navigate through life’s minefields and the right say to my wife when I pissed her off.
I was 13 years old the first time my mother tired of beating me with a belt. She grabbed my barbell off the floor and started swinging. Victor Frankel saved me when he taught me suffering ceases to be suffering when I find meaning in it.
From Marcus Aurelius, I learned to stop talking about being a good man. Just be one.
And I learned from reading Lord of the Rings and Samwise Gamgee that loyalty is the gift you give your friends.
A lot of people say they read. You probably have said the same. But do you?
When my daughters were first learning to read, I would ask them questions about the book they read, but they couldn’t tell me.
Most people are like my daughters. They can say the words on the page but don’t understand or use the ideas they supposedly learned.
It is not enough to know how to read. YOU MUST BE ABLE TO UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU READ.
And that starts with understanding what books are.
Books are, as English mathematician Isaac Barrow said, “a faithful friend, a wholesome counselor, a cheerful companion, or an effectual comforter.”
And then books made the man
Life is one part dog fight and one part reward.
To get the reward, you have to fight. And sometimes, the fight will be bloody, messy, and brutal.
But that’s okay. I’m a fighter.
Fighting alone is hard, especially when the odds are against you.
Mike Tyson had legendary boxing trainer Cus D’Amato to teach him how to box and what to do when life knocked him down.
Oprah Winfrey called Maya Angelou her mentor.
I never met my mentors, not in the traditional sense.
My coaches and mentors came from books. They were men and women who struggled and suffered but somehow found a way to win. They were masters in life.
Philosophers, scientists, leaders, doctors, politicians, soldiers, and humanitarians have guided me since I was young.
I have read thousands of books (that’s because I’m older than most), and in those tattered pages, I found, as Charles Elliot said, “the most accessible and wisest of counselors.” Even if it took me years to understand and live their lessons.
And that’s okay. So long as I learned.
In Game of Thrones, George R. R. Martin wrote, “A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.”
Because I read, I’ve lived a thousand lives. I will live a thousand more.
Being influenced by history and books is not unusual. Nelson Mandela learned from Mahatma Gandhi even though they never met. Marcus Aurelius acknowledged the impact of Epictetus’ teachings on his life in Meditations.
Isaac Newton said that if he could see further, it was because he stood on the shoulders of giants.
Each time you read, you stand on the shoulders of a giant.
Reading books isn’t just about knowledge. They have a certain kind of magic. They show you are not alone and that there are others like you. “You think your pain is unprecedented in the history of the world,” said James Baldwin, “but then you read.”
You learn what makes us different, and then a quiet, unassuming little book shows you the connection between all people.
Meditations, The Lessons of History, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, and Go Tell It on the Mountain were those books.
I read stories threaded together between the worn pages of history. Word by word, letter by letter, they show my pain and heartache; my triumphs and losses are interwoven with the rest of humanity.
I learned that my lessons are the same as everyone else’s, even if my experiences are uniquely mine.
So, why do I read?
To count Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, Ryan Holiday, Marcus Aurelius, Voltaire, David Hume, and a thousand others as my peers.
I read not just to learn but for the person I aspire to be. Books help you become that person. I’ll never get there by myself, but with the help of Maya Angelou, Voltaire, Marcus Aurelius, Robert Greene, and hundreds more, I just might.
And maybe that’s why you should read too.
Read to be the person you could or should be.
Thanks for reading. Remember what Stephen King said, “Every book you pick up has its lesson or lessons, and quite often, the bad books have more to teach than the good ones.”
Find a book and make a friend, even if it’s a bad one.
Love to you and yours,
Michael