What's mine is yours is ours

I've never been someone who prizes possessions very much, but books and CDs have always been different.

When I lived on my own, many an enjoyable evening was spent at the local bookshop, browsing the religion section, or the cookery section or the comedy section or, if I was very tired, the kids' section!

Usually I bought a book and took it home.

Holidays always involved the purchase of something to read as I explored bookshops away from home. I liked the feel of books, the smell of books, the promise of something new that I hadn't yet read.

And then I moved house. And then I moved house again. And again. And again.
And I packed up all the books I'd never read, or never finished, or hadn't read since the last time I moved house and moved them too.

Last time we moved, I decided that I'd had enough. My new theory that I'm testing is that there's no point having a book on my shelf that I don't refer to at least once a year.

At least that's the theory.

My bookshelves at home are still full, but I've noticed that my tiny inner-city house is just across the park from the local library, and now that's where most of my enormous book collection lives. And it's the best place for it, really.

I've always loved libraries, but I guess I got out of the habit at some stage.
Now when there's time (and it doesn't take long), I walk home past the library and drop in to pick up a book or a CD, and read a story with my little boy.

Sometimes we just read one book and go home happy. Sometimes we stay for an hour, but that's rare.

We meet other kids and they read over our shoulders and we read over theirs and we talk about the books we like.

Teenagers play card games they've borrowed from behind the counter. Homeless people and fashionable young urbanites sit on the couches and read the newspapers and magazines.

Community groups meet in the back rooms. People from all walks of life come here and they're usually really friendly. There's something about a shared public space and a shared love of books that breaks down barriers of race and economics and even language.

I now read books and listen to music that I wouldn't normally make time for. I take these things home for a few weeks knowing that I don't have to enjoy them, but I might find out something new, or might learn that I like something I didn't expect.

Sometimes I like it so much, and refer to it so often, that I buy my own copy and replace something on the shelves.

Since visiting the library, I've been inspired by musicians I'd never heard of, I've taken up knitting, rediscovered the joy of novel-reading, learned how to grow vegetables and even starting cooking tofu.

I've learned about the history of my city, its famous and infamous people and the lives of early and recent immigrants.

This is a bit embarrassing - and don't tell anyone - but I've even started enjoying country music.

The best thing about rediscovering the library is not really that I have more space in my house, or that I have access to a huge collection of books.

I love the fact that I am part of a group of people who all own these books (and CDs and DVDs) in common and no-one has to be rich to be part of this resource-sharing family.

I like seeing the bookmarks left behind, the coffee stains on well-worn pages of the recipe books and worn-out oft-repaired flaps on the children's books.

The book I'm reading now was read by a neighbour a month ago. I need to look after it and return it on time because another neighbour wants to read it too.

August 19, 2008 of us.

Natalie Sims worships at Brunswick Uniting Church and borrows books from Fitzroy Library.