On reading.

Not because I don’t read, and not because nothing has mattered to me. It’s that I’ve never once found something worth reading by going looking for it on a list. The book, the verse, the line someone quotes at exactly the right moment — it tends to arrive on its own, usually when I wasn’t looking for it at all, usually when I needed it more than I knew.

I don’t think that’s mysticism. I think it’s just what happens when you’re actually paying attention to your own life instead of running down someone else’s syllabus. If you’re on this path, something will come find you. It always has for me.

So no list. If you ever want to know what I’ve actually been reading lately, ask me directly — that’s a conversation I’d rather have than a page I’d rather write.