I still remember that day. In front of me lay a book, quietly waiting as if inviting me to open its first page. I didn’t know why, but I started reading. One page. Then the next. Until, without realizing it, I had finished the entire book.
That day, I finally understood—reading a book is like embarking on a journey. It feels like wandering through another world, discovering vistas I had never imagined before.
Each new understanding I stumbled upon felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, gazing at an endless horizon. And, to me, those views were far more beautiful than anything I had ever seen in real life.
Reading is the simplest way to slip into someone else's mind.
Quietly, we understand their perspective, learn how they see the world, and in turn, enrich our own way of thinking.
To me, a book is the gateway to someone’s thoughts. If we want to know what’s inside, we don’t need to open their head. Just read their work, and suddenly, we’re already standing in the middle of their mind.
But reading a book is different from skimming through a short article. A book gives you everything—deep knowledge, details that never get skipped. And somehow, its understanding stays with you for a long time. Like a small light, slowly illuminating the path ahead.
Every time there’s a pause, even just a second, from the pile of work waiting for me, I always steal a moment to open it. That book, always there, patiently waiting like a loyal friend.
Today is no different. Among the clutter that hasn’t been tidied up, and the sweat still clinging to my skin, I find myself turning its pages again. And as always, I feel completely at ease. Somehow, reading always knows how to calm the mind.
Reading is another way to travel, and also a form of relaxation.
