So, if you’re stopping by my little corner of the internet, I assume that you too appreciate a good book from time to time. Likewise, I’m sure there are many among us who list, among their happy places, a good, old-fashioned bookstore.
It should come as no surprise, then, that one of my most positive memories from the recent past, took place in a bookstore. Now, I say positive, instead of “happy” because I’ll be totally honest that, at the time of this story, I wasn’t particularly happy. I was in a degree program that I would ultimately graduate from, but at the time was seriously questioning. At that point, I’d been living away from my hometown for a little over a year, and even though I think I mostly benefited from having my space and figuring out who I was with a little distance between myself and everyone I grew up around (no shade to my family or friends back home - they’ve always been supported and I think they all understand that this move for me really did help me in many ways, and I love having somewhere to return to from time to time), there were still times that I was lonely. And there were other, more personal things going on in my life that felt overwhelming at times.
And so, I won’t call what I’m about to describe a happy experience, at least in the traditional sense of the word. But I do call it positive, because it brought about some much needed changes in my life that ultimately did make me happier. So have I built up the suspense enough yet? Let’s get on with the story.
At the end of a really long, stressful week, I didn’t know where I wanted to be. Usually, after work, I would return to my school’s library on Friday nights and work for a few hours because I had a pretty heavy semester. But, because of some of those personal struggles I mentioned earlier, I didn’t really want to be at the library and I didn’t really feel like studying. So the library was out. But I also didn’t really feel like being alone (this should have been a sign that I was not in a great headspace, because I generally love having time to myself), so going home to my apartment didn’t feel like a particularly good option either.
And so, on a whim, I decided to walk to the local indy bookstore in the town where I was living (I won’t share where, just to protect my own privacy, but to this day, I will say it’s one of my favorite places in the world). I’d been there once before about a year earlier, but I hadn’t gone consistently.
So I walked there. I browsed. I picked up a few books (when it comes to books, I literally have no self-restraint - but my habit of book collecting is probably a post for another day), and when I approached the checkout, I saw that the person working was reading a book I read in one of my favorite classes in college years earlier.
Now, before I go on (I’ve never been one for linear storytelling, sorry about that!), I have to note that while I had made a few friends in my new town in the year since I moved, I didn’t feel nearly as close to those friends as I did friends from college and high school that I was still in contact with. That point is important for later.
Back to the story - I made a comment to the cashier that I had really enjoyed the book she was reading, and she said, “We’re reading it for our book club. You should join us!”
And…I didn’t. They were meeting that week, and my schedule was super chaotic at the time, so I definitely needed more time than a few day’s notice to budget the time for something like that. But…I just…kept…thinking about it. And so, the day after their meeting, I called the bookstore (I’m also not a fan of phone calls, so you know I was serious), and asked if a new book had been chosen for their next meeting (two weeks away - that I could work into my schedule) and the person who answered said it was and that the book was in stock. And so…for the second time in less than a week…I hustled to the bookstore, picked up that book…and ended up making some of the best friends I’ve ever made since moving.
The things I was struggling with didn’t magically change. I was still stressed and there were issues academically and professionally I still had to work on, but my impromptu decision to take a trip to the bookstore was the catalyst to me finding a community that could support me when I needed, and a group of people I could the same for. It was also the first time, in over a year, that I really felt like this new place I was living in was my home. So, I already believed in the wonder of bookstores, but this really drove the point home. And that is how an independent bookstore made me feel okay.
What’s your favorite bookstore memory? Share below!
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