“Are you going to sleep right now?” my sister asked, pulling back the covers from her bed in the room we share.

“Are you?” I responded, doing the same.

“I asked first.” She smiled at me.

“No, I’m reading tonight.” I turned on the bedside lamp.

“Good. Me too.” She responded, doing the same.

We sat in our beds silently for the next two hours, enveloped in our own books. The warm, comfortable quiet of reading filled the room as we ventured to far-off places in our minds. I set my book down for a moment, thinking.

It had been a while since I’d felt this peaceful.

When I was in middle school, I would fly through books every few days, living in a world that was half fiction, half reality. Even if I barely finished my homework at midnight, I would still crawl underneath the covers with a flashlight just to finish the next chapter…or ten.

However, as I entered high school, I felt overwhelmed with new responsibilities and preoccupations, and somehow, my love for reading was left behind. I just didn’t have the time anymore.

Or at least that’s what I told myself.

For a while it felt true. Genuinely, I had long to-do lists and plenty of homework. I labored to get everything done and fell asleep immediately afterward. Staying up late to read a book felt like a waste of time I could spend sleeping.

But it was my favorite Christmas book, The Mistletoe Promise by Richard Paul Evans, that reminded me how I missed the long nights I would spend lost between pages. In the same way that the season of Christmas makes me feel cozy and joyful, reading a good book is like sitting by a warm fire on a cold afternoon.

So I decided that I would stop complaining about how busy I was and instead add reading to my to-do list everyday. Reading, for me, is just as important for my mental health as doing homework is for my academic health. 

So why not do both?

When I tell friends and family that I have the time to read several books each month, they often tell me that they wish they could do the same in their lives, whether it’s with reading, practicing an instrument or exercising. But they just don’t have the time.

I think that’s just an excuse.

There isn’t a lack of time to accomplish your goal. You’re just not making the time.

If you truly love something, you can’t let it sink to the bottom of your priorities. I know that I did; but when I realized that I was missing out on a hobby that brings me so much happiness, I knew that I couldn’t let it fade away. 

Everyday, we have the opportunity to make it a great day. Even if everything is going wrong, we can choose to uplift ourselves or distract ourselves. Sadly, we often choose the latter, scrolling aimlessly through social media, staring at the ceiling or taking on more work than is healthy.

Instead of excusing ourselves, we need to hold ourselves accountable for our own happiness. For me, that means reading a book after I wake up and before I go to sleep. It may mean something different for you. Regardless, we can’t afford ignoring what makes us happy because what makes us happy also makes our days worth living.