I had a very helpful conversation with my 2-year-old son this morning. He was watching a surprisingly interesting episode of Bob the Builder that I thought had some good learning material.

“Are you learning some good stuff, buddy?”
“No, Daddy, I love trucks!”

Besides being adorable, his response got my mental wheels turning. I am a bit obsessed with learning. I read during just about every free minute of every day. I am often consciously learning, but even in the case of fiction or something else light, I am trying to maximize the number of quality inputs to my brain.

My son raises a good point though. Yesterday I mentioned the beginner’s mind, but there could just as easily be a corollary to this overarching mindset. Namely, this should be fun.

The reason I read so much is I love reading. I’m reading far more non-fiction than I used to because that’s what is most interesting to me. I’m reading very long biographies because I want to.

I need to remember this during the inevitable time when a particular book just doesn’t sink its hooks into me. I must be willing to put it aside and move on to a different book. I must be willing to read a bunch of fiction, if non-fiction loses its allure. I must be willing to just watch some television, if reading feels like work (perish the thought).

This should be fun. If it isn’t, I’m doing it wrong.