Dr. BJ Condrey

A while back, my family and I were on vacation in one of our favorite spots: Seaside, Florida. No chain restaurants. No buildings over three stories. And miles and miles of bike paths and trails. We were three days in before we used our van because we could ride everywhere.

There’s a beautiful, quaint downtown area in Seaside with Airstream trailers, each serving a different type of food. Barefoot Barbeque, the snowball place, and Sundog Books are must-visits. On this trip, I decided I wanted a special coffee mug and a memorable hat, so I kept my eye out for both.

I found the perfect mug at Sundog Books. It’s simple, heavy, and thicker than even the mugs at Waffle House (which I’ve also considered buying). But that day, I ended up buying something else I hadn’t planned on: a book.

I usually don’t buy books in shops because I can get them much cheaper online. But on vacation, I saw a book in the philosophy section—(I’m a philosopher and take great joy in reading, writing, and teaching philosophy)—that simply looked beautiful. It was also a book I had never read cover to cover but always wanted to: Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. In many ways, it’s a sad book—written by a Roman emperor and one of the most famous Stoic philosophers, trying to make sense of life. Alongside Zeno, Seneca, and Epictetus, Aurelius’s work is a classic in Stoicism. Stoicism interests me not only for its philosophical merit, but also because Christianity is sometimes presented in ways that mirror Stoicism—for better or worse. Suffice it to say, there are several reasons, both personal and professional, that I’ve wanted to read it.

I chose to spend around $30 on the book because it was beautiful. A hardback with a rough, cloth-like texture, it draws me in with its feel, color, and intricate design on the front. It’s wonderful to behold. But more than that, it’s inviting. That’s the point of beauty, isn’t it? It calls to us. I want to stop, pick it up, engage with it, and read. Honestly, the physical beauty of the book makes me want to read it more—and though I’ve read it slowly (as I do most books), I’m already nearing the end.

So, buy beautiful books. Spend the extra money. If you know a book is special—something you’ll enjoy having throughout your life—buy it. A beautiful book is inviting, and that can make all the difference.