So I’m wondering…does there come an age in our lives where we become too old to truly enjoy reading??
Maybe I’m being a bit dramatic…maybe I’m still not fully adjusted to being old…(40 is hard for me…let’s just get the elephant in the room that is my age out of the way)…but honestly…I’m wondering lately if I’m going through a really long slump…or if reading just isn’t as enjoyable as one ages.
I think perhaps it comes down to what type of reader one is. Since childhood reading for me has always been an escape…but it’s been a lot more than that too. It’s been a means of exploring dreams and hopes, possibilities and futures. Love, school. career, travel, adventure, marriage and family etc. Reading for me not only provided entertainment and an escape from a sometimes not so pleasant reality…but it also provided a way for me to see what possibilities and opportunities awaited me “out there.” It fed my imagination and allowed me the chance to live and experience all manner of things and in doing so…perhaps discover a little bit more of who I was and what I wanted out of life.
I’ve realized lately though, that my reading experience is very different. Most of the time, I now catch myself relating to characters or sympathizing with them…but I no longer find myself dreaming with them or inspired by them to dream on my own.
Have I reached the point in my life where I feel like my own future is set? My possibilities no longer limitless? My dreams reduced to just that…dreams…?
What do you guys think…does reading and the pleasure derived from reading change as one ages and goes through different life stages? Do we enjoy it less…or do we simply need to find a way to enjoy it differently? Or is it a matter of allowing ourselves to dream of endless possibilities regardless of age?