When I was a kid, reading books was one of my absolute favorite things to do. While the other children played on the playground during lunch or after school, I could often be found reading a book on the sidelines. You caught me—I was a little nerd (note: nothing has changed). Like so many other people, the magic of storytelling opened countless worlds to me, worlds full of adventure and magic and boundless possibility. It was no wonder that I couldn’t get enough.

And then I got older, and the bully that is life punched me in the face.

Starting about halfway through my high school career, a whole lot of things converged upon me all at once, not the least of which was a hectic roster of classes and extracurriculars that left me reeling by the end of the day. I wasn’t getting nearly enough sleep as it was, so I certainly didn’t have time to spare to read a book for pleasure. And so the fantastical worlds about which I was so passionate were forced to give way to the practical.

In my second year of college, I made it my New Year’s resolution to reignite that passion. I don’t usually bother making New Year’s resolutions—I think that if you need a holiday to convince you to do get something done, then maybe you aren’t that dedicated to it in the first place. But the timing was right, and it seemed to me as good an excuse as any, and so I made it my goal to read for pleasure at least once a day. No shortcuts: readings for homework or other responsibilities didn’t count, and neither did news blurbs on Facebook. No, I gave myself the personal obligation of choosing a book that I wanted to read and actually reading it, every single day.

And I have.

Every day for the past eight months, without fail, I have committed to reading a novel of my choosing. Sometimes it’s just a few pages, while other days I devour an entire book in one sitting. I recently celebrated the completion of my 30^th novel of the year, which I think may have been more than I read for pleasure in the previous three years combined. The delight I feel when I find myself sucked into a really outstanding storyline is exactly the same as it was when I first began working my way through chapter books a decade and a half ago.

The point of this, however, is not to nag you about your reading habits. Although I do think that there is something that everyone can gain from literature, I also understand that not everyone shares my same passion. However, everyone does possess a passion of their own. Whether it be music, sports, or playing board games with a group of friends, every single person has something in their life in which they are invested, something that makes them deeply happy. And far too often, I see my friends and peers allow those passions to fall by the wayside because they feel too busy to actually enjoy them.

Beyond what I have found between the pages of my books, my recent resolution has taught me this: we can almost always find time for the things that are important to us if we are only willing to rearrange all the rest. Sure, there are situations where we really are just too busy to take even a moment’s rest, but most days aren’t like that. Most days we can find a way to shave just a few minutes off of our routine in order to make time for the things that matter, but haven’t been appreciated the way that they should.

So here’s my advice to you: instead of scrolling through Facebook in your ten minutes between classes, blaze through a chapter of that book you’re reading. Before you turn out the lights at night, listen to a song by that band you used to love. Play fetch with your dog before the sun goes down. Bake a batch of cookies. Call your mom. Whatever it is that makes you happy, stop telling yourself that you can’t do it because time restrictions are holding you back. If it’s something that speaks to your soul, then there is always time.