Letting go in order to make space
I am a book person. And I cannot remember when this has not been true for me. One of my early memories is sitting on the floor in my grandmother’s cool, dark hallway and paging through old books I pulled from a bookshelf.
My work has always provided a reason for reading and collecting books - as an academic first, and then later as coach, coach educator, and designer of leadership development experiences. Anyone who has ever been to my office – or virtually visited via Zoom – knows that my walls are linked with bookshelves full of books.
My book collection is a reflection of important parts of my identity. Look at what’s on my shelves, and you will know what I am interested in: creativity and imagination, positive psychology, spirituality, learning design, leadership in complexity and flux, leadership development, neuroscience, communication, conversation, futures thinking, wisdom, poetry, and more.
Given this connection between aspects of my identity and my book collection it is not a surprise that any need to let go of some books is a bit heart-wrenching. These are not just objects. They are reflections of parts of who I am and where I’ve been.
Throughout the course of my life I have had to let go of books several times – when we moved, when I stepped away from academia to pursue a different career, or simply when we run out of space. Recently I wrestled with the question of intentionally letting go of a whole section of my book collection. As a coach educator and designer of leadership learning experiences I have gathered an extensive collective of books (and other materials) specifically to inform this work. They helped ensure that our programs were grounded in “best current research and thinking” – an ever-shifting ground, of course, which necessitated the purchase of more books!
It has become clear to me that I am ready to let go of the “coach educator” part of my identity. Outside of a few specialized areas my connection to this part of my identity has to a large extent dissolved. Which then led to the question of what to do with all the many books that I own specifically because of that part of my identity. What is the point of holding on to them? Might others get more value from them?
After much thinking (and soul searching!) I finally selected a few boxes worth of books that are directly tied to my coach educator identity and offered them to some colleagues and friends. It is freeing to notice the space this move opened up – not just physically, but also internally. For one thing, it helped me see with fresh appreciation the (still many!) books I chose to keep. In the opened up space other interests are now moving more into the foreground, becoming more prominent.
As I continue to “live into” the new space and the letting go of a key part of my identity of the last few years, I am comforted by the last lines the poem Life While-You-Wait by poet Wislawa Szymborska (she is one of those who are now taking up more of the open space left behind by the books that moved to a new home). The poem explores the idea of life as “performance without rehearsal”, and ends with these lines:
“And whatever I do
will become forever what I’ve done.”
