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For a self-proclaimed bibliophile, I barely read any books in 2020. I would get excited about books I purchased, start them, and then stop reading after only one chapter. My mind just wasn’t in right place to read more (or do much of anything, if I’m honest).

Here’s how I managed to fall in love with reading again, and how to read more books.

For a very long time, it was very important to me that others knew I had good taste, that the books I was reading made me seem smart, that the music I was listening to made me seem cool, that the food I was eating made me seem cultured.

And then I went travelling.

In a recent blog post called “Here Are All the Things I Haven’t Accomplished this Year in Self-Isolation”, I reflected on all the yoga I didn’t do. All the canning, the crafts, the reading and the writing I thought I’d tackle and then just… didn’t. The one thing I did do consistently… other than watch TV, eat two-bite brownies, and watch IG reels of cute dogs? Make limoncello. That’s right, I learned how to make limoncello at home.

Do you remember, back in March, when we all thought this would last two weeks?

The snow was melting in Winnipeg, I had a new boyfriend, I was almost overwhelmed with freelancing work, I was going to the gym regularly and loving it.

“Two weeks without seeing my family and friends, two weeks without going to restaurants, two weeks without going to the gym?” I panicked.

Oh, how innocent and naive I was. How blissfully, ignorantly unaware.

On April 12th, 2010, I sat on my bed in my sunny flat in downtown Osaka, Japan, and I wrote this post. It’s only a few lines long, the photos are edited…

This is how your heart breaks: slowly and deliberately, and then all at once. A story about falling in and out of love.