Through the eyes of others

Back tracking a bit. A long post. But worth it.

On Monday, I jumped in the car and headed over to Madison to check out the Half Price Books stores and their weekend sales. I got there early and by noon was really ready to leave.

I didn't find much in any of the stores I visited. I was tired. My mind was wandering. I was shaky from not eating. I wasn't enjoying myself. So I decided to skip State Street and the East Side. I was going home to sleep. Then I got on a road I hadn't really wanted to take and blamed it on the GPS Gangsta-Thieves who left me high and dry.

I ended up downtown anyway, crossed State on Johnson and decided to pull into the parking garage. Whatever. I had time. I walked to State. Took a left. Some stores were open. Some not. Whatever. Walked past a few store fronts. Kooky bling catches my eye: make your own button $1. Sure. Whatever. I can do that.

I walk into this store. Anthology. And then I'm home.

Every inch of this beautiful little shop breathes what I feel, shows how I think, speaks to my creativity. Gorgeous artwork, doodads, ephemera, inclusions, inspiration, meticulous displays and lovingly detailed decor. It took my breath away because I immediately understood--and felt--the passion that went into the shop. And I haven't felt that in so very, very long. I hadn't seen that in myself in ages. The potential...not even possible.

I'd been carrying a iced quad espresso and felt the immediate need to set it down lest it drip condensation on any of the papers and ruin something. I would have been devastated had I done that! I spent quite some time looking at nearly every inch of the store. I even had a chance to strike up a conversation with one of the owners (two talented sisters whose art graces the walls and shelves).

I didn't really want to leave the shop. I wanted to plant my ass on the colorful chair and paint and play and cut and paste and hang out all day long. I wanted to rummage through the supply cupboards, peek behind the doorway curtain. I wanted to create. In a soulful way. In a personal, connected to my spirit, touching and living in the world kind of way.

But I did leave. And I stayed longer in Madison. Took my time. Enjoyed the day. Daydreamed. Planned art projects. Took voice memos. Thought about what I'd do in my studio at home. Thought about what I might do with my life. All because of that little shop, Anthology.

Flash forward. Yesterday morning. Going through my receipts from Monday, I found the slips from Anthology and decided to check out the store's new blog, where I read a post from Monday about how just one person made a difference. And then I realized that person was me.

THAT was ME.

Laura's words brought tears to my eyes. I knew for myself what the store visit meant. But I had no idea what my presence could have possible meant to her. None. If asked, I would have thought I probably came across as a weirdo cheapskate who loitered way too long.

Who hasn't heard that weary old adage about how just one person can make a blah, blah, blah? Sometimes people even tell us...but it's about things to be expected. Teachers, mentors, bosses, etc. How often, though, do we ever find out how we affect complete strangers? Do we? Can we?

I printed out Laura's post. I need the reminder of how my life impacts others. Not just how my life is impacted. Our purpose is common. And gifted with that revelation, I feel that I've been given a sense of self that some people may wait an entire life time to see.

My words simply don't do justice to the entire experience. But it was wonderful. Both the visit and the accidental blog find. I look forward to visiting Anthology again and chatting with Laura, maybe meeting her sister and her adorable niece. And if you're ever in Madison and stop in, tell them Jen from Milwaukee sent you. I dare you to look behind the curtain.