My family and I love going to Barnes and Noble whenever we stop at the Mall of America.

For the first several years of their lives, whenever we'd enter the doors of that prime Rotunda location, the kids and I would make a beeline to the train table situated all the way to the back.

It felt a natural path, a re-routing of the natural path I used to take whenever I'd enter the Borders bookstore that no longer exists by my own parent's house.

At Borders, I'd make a beeline for the tech books. I remember peeking at every single one, from A+ certification manuals to Web Pages That Suck (a book that I checked out from the library half a dozen times). To me, there might as well have been no other sections in the store.

As I get older, I'm finding myself questioning these paths that I take. The well-worn path worked great for an era of my life, but sometimes, it's fun to venture onto something new.

My kids are older now, but they still run into Barnes and Noble with the same gusto they've had for years. The difference is that they're old enough to run ahead of me.

This means I can take my time, which I use to slowly scan over all the books displayed in stacks on tables in the aisle.

A few weeks ago, I noticed a book called What My Mother and I Don't Talk About. It's a collection of essays from 15 different writers about their relationships with their mothers.

This style of book perfectly meshes with my preferred approach of reading: instead of one theme carried across 300 pages, each chapter is its own contained, complete thought. It really felt like I was burning through my Instapaper queue.

And of course, the stories told in these essays were tragic, beautiful, and every feeling in between.

It's hard not to read these stories and reflect on my relationship with my own mother. At a minimum, I am grateful that I don't have an especially painful or abusive relationship like several expressed. Maybe someday, I'll pen my own essay and share it with my mom before she passes.

But until then, I'll have to bask in the wisdom shared in this book.

Some of the highlights:

I really enjoyed Kiese Laymon's "While These Things / Feel American To Me", with this timely evaluation of life in this country:

The problem in this country is not that we fail to "get along" with people, parties, and politics with which we disagree. The problem is that we are horrific at justly loving the people, places, and politics we purport to love.

As someone grappling with letting go of my own traumas, this quote from Brandon Taylor's "All About My Mother" is a helpful observation:

It's strange, really, that to grasp that which has hurt you, you must trust it not to hurt you when you let it inhabit you.

And finally, two observations from the final essay in the book, Leslie Jamison's "I Met Fear On The Hill". First, on love:

This pride comes from the same internal place as the delusion I spent much of my young adulthood believing: that it is better to be the one desired more, rather than the one doing more desiring. As if love were a contest; as if desire were fixed, or absolute; as if either position could insulate you from being harmed or causing harm; as if being in control could insulate you from anything.

And finally, on the importance of telling your truth:

We get so used to the stories we tell about ourselves. This is why we sometimes need to find ourselves in the stories of others.

I highly recommend reading this book, and then if you're lucky enough, go give your mom a hug.

System of a Down holds a very special place in my heart.

I was in seventh grade when Toxicity was released. I remember sitting in church on Good Friday a few months later and hearing the story of Jesus' execution on the cross. When my pastor, who was reading from the scriptures, got to the part where he shouts, "Father, why have you forsaken me?", my sister and I looked at each other and shared a knowing realization: "oh man, that's from the bible?"

I've been drawn to System mostly because of the instrumentals. Lyrics have not traditionally captured my attention when listening to music.

It took me a few years to discover that all the members of the band were Armenian-Americans. Until reading this book, I didn't give Armenia much thought. The last time I recall giving much consideration to the Middle East in general was in tenth grade world history class. I couldn't have picked out Armenia on a map if you had asked me.

Serj Tankian (the lead singer of System) recently released his memoir, and the title adeptly appends "of sorts" to that noun.

Yes, there are plenty of great stories in this book about Serj's experience with System of a Down, but I'd argue more than 25% of the book serves as a history lesson about Armenia for ignorant Westerners like me.

Even though I'm not much of a lyrics guy, it's hard to miss the humanitarian messages when they're shouted at you by Serj.

Like in "P.L.U.C.K.", from their debut self-titled album¹:

Revolution, the only solution,
The armed response of an entire nation,
Revolution, the only solution,
We've taken all your shit, now it's time for restitution.

Or "Cigaro" from Mezmerize²:

We're the regulators that de-regulate
We're the animators that de-animate
We're the propagators of all genocide
Burning through the world's resources
Then we turn and hide

Reading this book made so many of these songs come to life in a new way for me, especially reading of the horrible atrocities committed by the Turkish government. Serj really opens up about some deep, painful generational trauma that explains his drive for justice.

I also loved his reflection on what System means to him today. The closing chapter of the book talks about the 2023 Sad, Sick World show in Las Vegas. He went into the show feeling like System was nothing more than a cover band at this point, but came out of it feeling joy.³ I sure hope I can see them perform live one day.

If you're a System fan like me, I could not recommend this book any more highly. If it weren't for the fact that it's currently 6:15am, I would be blasting them in my house right now.

We All Want Impossible Things is a novel which follows the journey of a woman whose best friend is in hospice, living out her final days after fighting a tough battle with cancer.

I started this book a couple months ago and got up to about 70% of the way through before putting it aside.

I'm pretty sure I let it sit because I didn't want to see how it ended. Obviously the death was going to come, but I wasn't quite ready to take on someone else's outlet for grief.

That is, until this past week, when I was in search of something to help me process my own grief.

Last week, I learned that a really good friend of mine died unexpectedly from a heart attack, which set me up for one of the worst mental health stretches I've experienced in recent months.

The last 30% of the book provided some much needed catharsis and meaning. Although the main character's experience wasn't directly similar to mine, it gave me some well considered insights into what love and friendship is all about.

If you're also grieving, I highly recommend this book.

As I mentioned in my post about ditching my iPhone, I'm trying to get back into reading books.

One of the hardest parts about getting back into reading is to adjust my mindset about how I read books.

For the last couple decades, I was extremely selective about the books I read. I wouldn't pick up a book unless I was positive that I'd make it through without abandoning it early.

After all, dedicating time to a few hundred pages was a significant investment! I'm a busy man, after all.¹

A couple weeks back, my family walked up to the library together. Usually, it's a time where my wife gets to meander down the aisles, picking out books for herself and the kids, while the rest of us play with the puppets and dinosaurs they've got set up in the kids area.

This time, I decided to walk through the new release section and see if anything caught my eye.The distinctive pink cover of this book caught it right away.

I was slightly embarrassed as I sat down on the couches and started reading a book about a movie geared toward teenaged girls. I didn't realize that fifteen minutes had gone by when my family was asking if I was ready to leave.

I finished the book up yesterday and recommend it if you are into behind-the-scenes stories of how media gets made. The author interviewed all the actors from the movie, including those who only had one or two lines.

I was particularly compelled by the story of Rajiv Surendra, the actor who played Kevin G. He talked about how much effort it took to cultivate the confidence that his character exudes, and how he often channels that character in real life when he needs a boost.

Self confidence is an area I'm actively working on, so I appreciated being able to pull a little inspiration from a book I picked up on a whim from the library.

I'm sure none of this is new information to you all. Libraries have books, books are useful for transmitting new ideas, yadda yadda. Give me a break, I'm trying here!

I'm also working my way through A Hacker's Mind by Bruce Schneier based off a recommendation from my pal Arun.

Not sure if you all knew this, but reading books can be pretty dope.

(My buddy Paul recommended a few graphic novels that I'll reserve from the library next, but I'm still looking for a solid fiction series to get behind, so holler if you have any suggestions! )