Navigating academia, research, and the wider world

  Time Travel and Alternate Realities   I have superpowers. My practice of reading has developed my abilities to time travel and to inhabit alternate realities on a daily basis.   Some nights, I read for hours and on others, I dip in for just a few minutes. Sometimes, one-eyed reading leads to re-reading with a vague sense of deja vu the following night.   This habit of mine has brought me on adventures with the Famous Five, right onto the prairie with Laura Ingalls Wilder and Across the Barricades with Kevin and Sadie.   I know What Katie Did and what she did next.   As a teenager, I travelled with Bilbo and Frodo and I inhabited the dark corridors of Gormenghast with its gothic language and array of slippery characters. Later on, I was On the Road and with the Subterraneans and Dharma Bums. I watched out over Bohane with Sweet Baba Jay, and I, too, sat with Siddhartha by the river.   I lived through War and Peace , pitied Raskolnikov, and feared the cat in the Mast

  Why do you read?    When I was asked by a friend recently what books I’d take to a desert island, I hadn’t a clue how to answer ... I immediately began listing my favourite books, the ones I’d be willing to read again and again, until I started thinking what else (other than entertainment) I would need if I were marooned.     Looking for answers, I asked my partner - who has a serious book addiction - why he reads. It’s something that apparently keeps him up at night, but he’s never found an answer. That doesn’t stop him from reading and accumulating books - when we moved in together a good 80% of what he brought to our first house was books, they’ve multiplied over the years stacked on windowsills blocking out sunshine, stuffed under the bed, and in boxes in the attic. And he’s no idea why he reads.     I was more surprised to find that I couldn’t answer the question either. It was harder to answer than what books I’d bring to that island, but also felt closely related. I know lots

  One overcast Saturday afternoon, I received a rather random request via text to respond immediately with three books that I would take with me to a desert island.  I naively thought this request was to receive suggestions of 5-star books to pass the time during lockdown.   The suspicious side of me should have known that the text-sending-psychologist was plotting a more meaningful and thought-provoking engagement.   In my haste to reply, I selected my three favourite books that I had read in the last number of years and quickly tapped back a response: (1) where the crawdad’s sing; (2) Mornings in Jenin; and (3) America’s First Daughter. I put my phone away and didn’t think much more of it until a quick-witted response came asking for my reasoning.   My rationale was that these were stories of grit, overcoming difficulties, or being the first person to do something, which might provide a little motivation or inspiration while on a desert island.   The real reason was, they are reall

Desert Island books It was my birthday in March and my husband bought me a book case for the living room. I had been talking about getting a book case for some time. If there is one thing the past year has given me (and many of us) it's plenty of time to contemplate the big and small questions in life.  One of the quandaries that keeps returning to me in different ways is the question of  how to live best.  By this I mean, in this short time on earth, how should I spend my time and energy. This simple (not easy) question has taken me down many, many avenues - how should I eat, work, sleep, exercise, purchase, connect spiritually, seek pleasure, nurture my relationships? What in my life needs more nourishment and what needs to move to the metaphorical scrapheap? Or literal scrap heap? Or charity shop? There is a great pleasure in packing up all the material things accumulated hastily and thoughtlessly and removing them from one's living space. The trick is not to fill up the spa