Make-Over Your Bookshelf, Make-Over Your Mind!
I’m a big fan of working with symbols; I love using them to communicate with and even manipulate the subconscious mind. With the right set up and suggestions, symbolism can be used as a sort of graphical user-interface for your mental processes. Cool, huh?
Ever since my bookshelves started babbling at me, we (my bookshelves and I) have been pondering ways to best use the “my bookshelf, my mind” metaphor as a mind-tweak.
First, I suggested using the books to research medication that might make the bookshelves stop babbling.
But the bookshelves were not amused, and turns out I don’t have the right books for that anyway.
So instead, they suggested I delve deeper into the metaphor, to see how accurate it was.
Bookshelves do make a marvelous metaphor for the human mind.
Books are containers of information, instruction, memory, emotion, cultural values, world views. Bookshelves are ways of organizing and displaying those containers of information.
The state of my books does seem to reflect the state of my mind. My books and thoughts seem to land wherever, in a half-thought out form of semi-organization that is worse than none. Mixed in with the books are a whole lot of “I didn’t know where else to put it” stuff (like the cereal-box prizes from ChickenRun -hey, they’re REALLY cute) and an impressive collection of dust bunnies (not so cute. They have fangs).
In short? My bookshelves are as scattered and unfocused as my thoughts.
But there is hope: by organizing the shelves with “intent”, and focusing on the book/mind metaphor while I work, my mind can get an organizational makeover along with the bookshelves.
Trust me, it works. I’ve done things like this before. Remind me to tell you sometime about the 2 weeks in the early eighties when my brain re-ordered itself according to DOS directory structure. It was freaky. Seriously.
Here’s how it goes:
Books are re-ordered not just in ways that make sense for books, but for thoughts.
Books that remind me of my world view, and why I think the way I do, need a special section that is easily and naturally reviewed, but not in the way.
Old favorite (but maybe outgrown) tomes can have their own little out of the way section, where they can remind me of my roots, but wont get in the way of current needs.
I can even target specific trouble areas — for instance, I have a lot of difficulty tossing out old ideas, long-dead projects, the flotsam and jetsam of a creative and sometimes abortive mind.
My bookshelves reflect this, filled with tomes that no longer reflect what I’m working on, much less what I’m interested in. By clearing out those books with intent, I can clear my mind of the project corpses, and give them a proper burial, with respect.
The books associated with projects that I might someday resurrect should go into boxes; neatly labeled, but put away. Those that I won’t get back to can be gotten rid of, but donated or sold in a way that honors their memory, and the time investment I had in them.
If I’m really struggling, maybe writing down what each of these books symbolizes, and tucking it into the pages might help, honoring the personal investment I once put into them. If they were sold or donated with those notes in place, it would make me feel as though I’d passed on a bit of that investment, along with the book.
My public and self-image can be reworked this way, too.
Bookshelves in the common spaces reveal what I want others to know about me, my public face to the world. They should reflect my image, the image I want to present, but they need to be real, in regards to who I am, too.
Likewise, the under my bed should be my private secrets and treasures- not necessarily shameful ones, but things that are sacred to me, that don’t need to be exposed. Some (like my favorite bad horror novels) are guilty pleasures.
The ones in my studio should be organized not only according to which ones I use most, but which ones I *should* be using more… reminding me to focus on anatomy, perspective, and technique, rather than just subject matter/inspiration, or reminding me of styles I admire but have yet to work into my methods.
By doing this with conscious intent, by thinking about what I’m doing on the level of practical organization, appearance, and the effects on my mind… I use the symbolism of the bookshelves to manipulate my mental organization, self image, and how I manage my public appearance.
Hopefully I’ll wind up with organized and impressive bookshelves, but a bit of extra cash from half.com sales, and most importantly, a better, clearer sense of self.
And hey, maybe my bookshelves will stop their incessant rambling, too!
MindTWEAK: Approach The World With Intent.
(Intent that strikes deep. intent that speaks to the soul.
Intent that changes the world. Intent that shuts up the voices in your head.)






