Reading always seemed a luxurious activity to me. Even when I was reading a used copy of a book with faded pages.

After many years of having too little time to read, I now understand just how much of a luxury reading is. Through much of the history of the written word, reading was an activity of the leisure class. Even now, when there are more readers in the world than ever before, many of those who can read do not have the time or space or enough focus remaining after their workday to read. Perhaps they never had the chance to develop an interest in reading. Or have never had access to good books.

To be able to dedicate time to something I truly love, with no concern as I do it for capitalist productivity—that is a luxury.