Is there anything better than a bookstore? Truly? I mean… unless it’s got a Joe Goldberg working at the counter. And let’s be so for real, I absolutely would have dated him back in the day. I mean… he reads books. Come on.
Anyway.
I was at Barnes & Noble the other day, just milling around as I do when I want that very specific mix of quiet and dopamine. You know the one. It’s like a library… except the books aren’t free and somehow that makes it feel even more indulgent. People are usually soft-spoken, wandering, perusing each section like they’re on a tiny solo pilgrimage toward becoming a slightly better version of themselves.
And then, of course, there are the whisper-talkers.
The ones having what they think is an internal dialogue, but it’s actually… not internal. At all. Just quiet enough to make you question if you’re the problem for hearing it. Oops.
I’ve always thought a bookstore would be the ideal meet-cute. Like two people reaching for the exact same book in the self-improvement section at the exact same time.
“Oh… you come here often?”
And suddenly they’re in love, bonded over a shared interest in becoming better humans and the very romantic act of reading physical books with actual pages.
As I wandered into the philosophy section (as one does), I found myself thinking about this idea of calling yourself an “intellectual.” At what point does that become… pretentious? Not saying I am one, but also… is it really that hard these days to be someone who thinks a little deeper than surface level?
I’ve got a few degrees. Nothing flashy. No elite university name to casually drop into conversation. But I’m curious. I reflect. I like to understand things; people, patterns, meaning. And isn’t that kind of the point?
Here’s the therapist lens for a second: we are living in a world that rewards speed, certainty, and hot takes. Depth takes time. It takes sitting in the gray, asking better questions, tolerating not knowing. So yeah… if you’re someone who willingly spends your free time wandering the philosophy aisle instead of numbing out on autopilot, you’re probably doing something right.
What struck me most, though, was how many people were actually buying books.
Not scrolling summaries. Not saving posts they’ll never go back to. Buying books. Holding them. Choosing to sit with something longer than a 30-second clip.
It gave me hope.
Because maybe bookstores aren’t just about books. Maybe they’re about intention. About people quietly choosing growth. About the possibility that we’re all just walking around, trying to understand ourselves a little better… one page at a time.
And honestly? That’s kind of everything.
-LC
Vibe with Me LC 