Why I love Libraries

Some of my earliest, happiest memories are tied to libraries. I remember the quiet thrill of walking out with a stack of books balanced in my arms—six, and only six, because that was the rule. Choosing them felt important, almost ceremonial. Those books represented possibility, escape, and the simple joy of getting to decide for myself what I wanted to read next.

I also love libraries because they are community spaces. I enjoy visiting local libraries when I travel—it’s always a learning experience, and if you’re interested in architecture, there are often beautiful and unexpected places to discover.

Visiting the Georgetown, Colorado library one mid-December was especially memorable. The entire town was closed after its Christmas celebration—everyone clearly tired and ready for a pause. What was open was the library. Inside, it felt like the heart of the town: people using the Wi-Fi, chatting quietly, and my friend and I browsing a book sale. It was a beautiful old building, and the librarian was eager to share the town’s history. I haven’t yet met a librarian who isn’t.

Red Cloud, Nebraska offered another reminder of how much you can learn about a place through its library. I visited another beautiful old structure and was welcomed by a friendly librarian from whom I learned about Carnegie libraries, and how this particular town was determined not to take Andrew Carnegie’s money, choosing instead to build their own. It’s a town with heart—and, unexpectedly, a great wine bar. Haunted, but very modern.

If you’re fortunate enough to live in Los Angeles, libraries there also offer free community language lessons—you could even learn French.

What libraries offer today goes far beyond books. Children’s story hours. Free Wi-Fi and quiet places to work. Remarkable collections for research and learning. They’ve evolved alongside the communities they serve, meeting people where they are and offering resources that remain both practical and deeply human.

I walked into my local library a few months ago and was surprised to find the old card catalogs still in use. They had been repurposed and filled with seed packets that visitors could “check out” and plant.

Library offerings continue to evolve, but their purpose has not. They remain places that serve their communities by providing access to information and education, along with spaces to study, gather, and engage in quiet reflection.

In many ways, libraries feel especially relevant during the Renewal Years. They’re places that invite curiosity without pressure and learning without expectation. You can wander, explore, return things that no longer interest you, and try something new—quietly, on your own terms. That feels aligned with this stage of life, where growth isn’t about accumulation or achievement, but about discernment. Libraries remind me that renewal doesn’t require reinvention. It simply asks us to stay open, engaged, and willing to keep learning.

I plan to spend quite a bit of time in my local libraries during this phase of my life, rediscovering the simple joy of browsing bookshelves to see what catches my eye. Maybe I’ll sign up for a book club, become a volunteer, or simply settle into a comfortable chair with a book and no distractions.