Breaking Bread with the Dead
and other things on my mind
Last night at 8pm, I casually picked up this book Breaking Bread with the Dead by Alan Jacobs, thinking it would be a good bedtime reading. I ended up staying awake, gulping it down in 5 hours, and savored it to the very last crumbs of Acknowledgements (or did it swallow me whole, we’ll never know).
That it was terrifyingly good is an understatement - it’s simply a book of essays or thought collections on the importance of reading (in general, but especially) classics, how to read (to a certain extent), and how to think (if we ever do). Did it shower me with new facts? Not really. It reaffirmed my already-existing, deep-rooted belief that reading was good, but it propagated my thoughts into areas I wasn’t familiar with, and made even a stronger case of what and how to read - while keeping it entertaining and engaging.
Each sentence in this book is densely packed with wisdom and graced with a type of warmth I had not experienced in a while. All throughout its 158 pages, Jacobs not only made a compelling case to invest in reading classics, but also inspired me to think while reading (surprise! but yes, more often than not, I often find myself reading mindlessly). And what better way to read and think, than to write? So here I am, back on my Substack after yet another hiatus.
For the past few months (two and a half to be accurate), I have been in a jolly mood because of various reasons:
I was over with my emotional distraught of a hang up (not a break up). Unshackled, untethered, unfettered. Feels so damn good.
I started to see momentum in my daytime job, and grasped a little bit of the meaning behind my contribution. At the same time, re-learning how to appreciate and enjoy my life outside of work, through working out, drinking coffee, reading good books, and hanging out with friends.
On hanging out with friends - I have been in good company (my friends & my colleagues). I’ve always been, but the connections feel deeper somehow - could be simply due to the fact that I am getting old and lonely :)
Running into scenarios where I felt validated doing what I love - reading and writing. I always had the urge to spend more time to cultivate this hobby, partially in hopes that it will become more than just a pastime, but it became a lot clearer this year, that I am happier when I attend to this need
I continue to struggle with what to write, since many years ago. When I first started, I hinged on what I consumed - mainly the books I read. And now as I continue to do so, I want my initial thoughts to produce offshoots and branches beyond the first order reactions (say, in the case of a book review, what the book was about & what I think/felt), and weave them further into the expansive fabric that hold together social/economic/cultural narratives (or in other words, my ever changing worldview). I know it’s a big undertaking. I also note that there are many giants in this space ahead of me (we all recognize that there is a firehose of commentaries and analysis, that we don’t need more content and information, but less). But what harm could an additional substack cause? The base case scenario here is that these words are self-serving, it will do me good. Hopefully, it will save me from the algorithm-driven echo chamber (or to borrow a term from the book “theater of concurrence”) that tricks my brain into thinking that what I see (what people do and belief and like) is also my default settings (mimetic theory) and that this is reflective/representative (and sometimes predictive if the algorithm is really really good) of my interests and originality, instead of it being simply prescriptive.
Another question mark I briefly carried in me, but swatted it like a fly on the wall, was whether there is even a need to share and make my own writing public (if I am happy if my words serve me well and keeps me happy and sane). But I think I made my peace in that being public and having an audience other than myself gives me a sense of accountability, and if I’m lucky these words do its magic and spark something in the minds of the readers. Other ramifications that this entails, I could bear with.
Anyways, this is a period of self-reflection and jolly Christmas. I am also back “home” in Chiangmai with my family, indulging in good food, great coffee, lazy afternoons I can doze off with a book by the pool, frequently interrupted by my nephews’ laughters and shrieks in the living area. All is well with my soul.
PS - I also turned 27 a few days ago, and it’s not bad at all. Just in case anybody was wondering - so far so good.