The Immersion Library

It’s the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.

Omens. Have you ever logged into Netflix and spent more time searching for something to watch rather than actually watching something? That has been my experience with reading. So many books, how does one decide which to read? To combat this paralysis, I create methodical lists so I always have a book ready to read next. For example, I have assembled a list in alphabetical order by title of all the unread books I already own as well as the complete lists of Pulitzer Prize winners and National Book Award winners.

Yesterday, my eldest child graduated from high school, heralding his entry into the world as his own man. What will he do? Who will he be? What dreams will he follow? Will he have the courage? I knew that this morning I would start the next book on my list whose arbitrary timing would prove prophetic. The Alchemist. Omens.

In its simple language, fast pace, and short length, it packs a story which speaks to every human, in every country, in every situation. What is our Personal Legend? How do we get out of our own way to achieve it? And what does it mean for our happiness in this one pass we have at life? Every reader brings their own life and story to this story and therefore will find their own application of this parable of biblical and mythological proportions. I may read it nostalgically, like someone who finally learns the meaning of the confusion, vulnerability, and insecurity of early adulthood. My eldest may find in it inspiration and courage to take his first steps, avoid despair, and see every opportunity for choices as building blocks to his Personal Legend.

With any number of quotable excerpts, religious allegory and mythical symbols, The Alchemist will assuredly inspire. While literary devices like comparing the alchemical evolution of metals to the evolution of people and the relationship of self and the world will stimulate the most estute of minds.

For myself, the book poses an uncomfortable question. As I read obsessively, I’ve often asked myself why. Perhaps it quiets my neurotic mind in a more healthy fashion than screen addiction. But, upon deeper reflection, I think it allows me to make sense of a world and a life in which I don’t physically engage as much. As the boy learns in the story, one journeys the world in order to discover themselves; to live their best and happiest life. Do I explore the world from my room, as a sad subsitute for discovering myself? At this point, I just want my eldest to try his own way and perhaps find different results.

Omens.