Years ago, back in 2017, I mentioned to my boyfriend that The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari is a book that I won’t review or rate (but if pushed it’s a whooping 5 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ and then some) and the reason is it’s so personal to me.
December of 2015, my then neighbour (hey Amanda! 😊) was reading this book and it caught my eye. She spoke highly of the book and I ended up borrowing it. Come January 2016, I devoured the book, page by page as I soaked in the words. Robin Sharma’s words struck a chord in me and in two weeks, I was through. With a journal filled with notes, quotes and what I had learnt, I had unlocked something in me that I didn’t know existed. I ended up rereading the whole book again shortly after and that’s when the book achieved the status of being my best – all time fave – book. Unfortunately I had to return the book to the owner, but its words stuck with me, till today.
The whole of 2016 through 2017 saw me gushing about the book to anyone who would listen. It made me so happy when someone would tell me they read the book because of me, and even happier when they said they loved it. End of 2017 my boyfriend bought me my own copy of the book, and to say I was excited doesn’t even begin to cover it. I mean, I finally owned my own copy of my favourite book. Funny thing I didn’t read the book, I put it on my shelf and let it stay there. I had this fear that maybe I’m remembering it wrong. I mean it had been almost year since I read the book, I have talked it up to anyone who’d give me the time of day and maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as good as I thought. What if I do read the book and end up hating it? These were the thoughts running through my mind and to me it was a scary thought. It’s not easy finding a book that you love and relate to.
For 15 months, my new copy of The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari gathered dust on my bookshelf as I came into terms with the fact that sometimes, one outgrows things, well in this case, books. Mid March of this year I went ahead and read it and I am happy to report that no, I haven’t outgrown the book. I loved it. Reading and rereading familiar sentences as I annotated my favourite passages. And the smile that came after the last line when I remembered why it’s my favourite book. A treat it was and I’m glad I reread it.
The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari gave me this sort of clarity; from the life lessons, to the quotes to the teachings. Simply put, I loved it then, I love it now and it’s still my favourite.
This is as much as a review that one can get from me. Buy the book, read it and let me know your thoughts.
What’s your all time favourite book? Why do you love it? Let me know in the comments. ☺