What I learned working at a bookstore

                                    

A few years ago, I worked at a bookstore. My first day was more than I’d imagined. As a kid, I dreamed of being surrounded by books. That felt like home to me. Decades later, I stepped inside the store, and in a sense, I came home. Turning in every direction to see stacks and rows of somewhat chaotic and neat aisles, gave me sheer excitement. Oh, the adventures I would have, in the center of many brilliant and creative minds.

Carefully placing these masterpieces on the shelf, seeing writer friends books on display, and sharing my favorites titles and authors with customers was the dream. I had thought about these things, and how it would be to work at a bookstore for months before I started my job.
 
My manager had told me stories about “regulars” who came in once a week, on a Monday. The same time everyday. I anticipated seeing this.

On the following Monday, I got to work, ready to greet this lovely couple into our store. They were an elderly couple. Visiting the bookstore came after paying bills, a trip to the post office, and grocery shopping. Once their errands were completed, they would have a few hours to visit. They took time buying a book for each other. This couple, put thought into their purchase and stayed for two hours, walking every aisle, laughing, giggling, and reading the first page of multiple books. It was the experience they enjoyed most, not something to rush through because they knew this new book would become a close friend. Holding hands, they walked to the register and proudly placed their items on the counter. They left with new treasures, a happy heart, and a promise to come back the following week.
 

Everyday, book lovers came in with a smile and left with an even bigger one. I got a giant hug from a woman who desperately wanted to find, Voyager by Diana Gabaldon, for her book club read. She’d been three places, and it had been sold out. We happened to have not only that one copy but the whole series. She squealed and thanked me repeatedly. An older gentleman called to ask me for every book I could find in hardcover of The Hardy Boys, starting at sixty-six on up.

When I told him I had sixty-seven in the store and could get him the rest, he laughed with such excitement. His inner child held fond memories of this collection. A lady in her mid-twenties, came in to discuss with me her passion for philosophy and the power of the mind. We had a very in-depth heart to heart conversation about religion, the world, and our views on mind-set. She left with ten books that day, all by different authors. A mother of three sat in the picture book section for an hour, reading page after page, with a smile, a tear, or a laugh out loud moment. She couldn’t pick just one, and with that bought twenty books.

So many lovely people talked to me about their favorite characters. They mentioned to me that they think about what that character would do when faced with a tough decision. I giggled and expressed how I did the same.
 
Writing.
 
Sharing stories.

It makes a difference.

Readers love the books they hold in their hands. They're valued treasures and friends. Most of the time, they become longtime friends.
 
No one is ever asking me for the same title. EVER.
 
Western American History.
 
Gritty Horror Fiction.
 
 A humorous picture book with a pig.
 
Vegan cookbooks
 
Mystery in space for a 8-10 boy.
 
How to build confidence books for young girls.
 
Some customers knew exactly what they wanted and needed. They knew their section and darted straight over to it. Others, went to experience the store. Many times I heard, “I didn’t plan enough time

today. I’m going to come back when I have more time to enjoy myself.” It’s not just a purchase when you’re buying a book; it’s an adventure. A time to escape and enjoy the moment of finding a new gem. I gained a whole new list of books to read that cherished customers recommended, and I gave them recommendations on books I adored and cherished. 

 

Readers are waiting for your stories. They ask for different genres and love all types of characters. Readers want characters they can relate to, that reach them to the very core. A world that takes them somewhere else and emotion that brings feelings out of them, that they didn’t even know were there. 

It is important.

Being a writer is an amazing thing to be.

 

If you forgot this, go to a bookstore and take time going up and down the aisles. Smell the books and touch the pages. Pick some off the shelf and hold them in your hands. Think about why you write. Think about the messages and thoughts that stir in you, that want to be heard. Sit on the floor, and be the reader. Allow yourself to feel, to escape, and to enjoy the journey with the character inside the book you’re holding.
 
Promise to come back and visit again. And go home. Sit at your computer, and write, but write for you.

-Lauri Schoenfeld- 

Today, I awoke to my son's best friend, his guinea pig, barely breathing and lying limp in his cage. With everything going on in the world, Jerry, the guinea pig, has become my boy's support animal. I ran downstairs to get my husband to tell him what was going on and rushed back upstairs, where my son was still sound asleep in his bed. I opened the cage and held this amazing little creature, who I've grown quite fond of, and noticed that he was cold to the touch. I held him gently against my chest and woke my son to tell him what was going on. Peter sat on the floor, Indian style, and his sister, Lucy, brought in a little blue blanket for Jerry. This blanket is used for Jerry every time she'd babysit him, as she liked to cradle him like a baby. She placed the blue blanket on Peter's leg and I laid Jerry on top of the cloth.

My boy's hand sat gently on his guinea pig's chest as he screamed. "NO. NO.NO."

Every now and then, Jerry would twitch and we'd all jump, waiting for him to magically get back up and run around the room, like he always did, with the squeaks that delighted us to no end. But, he didn't, and I could tell we didn't have much time with him. Getting him to the doctor would be too late. Peter held him, embracing that time with his guinea pig. At one point, as my boy cried, Jerry tried to lift his own head for a brief moment and gazed right at Peter. My boy looked at him and paused. "Jerry, I want you to let go so you're not in pain anymore. I don't want you to hurt. It's okay." My eight-year-old boy, said this with so much love and compassion in a time where he was hurting the very most.

The guinea pig moved again.

My oldest, Belle, was not having this dying thing and quickly turned to the computer to find all the ways we could save him. Her passion and fight came in hard and angry. "Don't give up. He's probably dehydrated."

I smiled, knowing this was her way of coping with trauma. I fed off her fighter energy. Holding Jerry lightly, I began placing water, in his already wide open mouth. Upon doing that, I saw some build up in his throat. I had a sudden urge that I could save him. I asked my hubby to grab my tweezers. He brought them to me and held the flashlight on his phone steady, right at Jerry's mouth. Carefully, I pulled out the buildup from his throat. The guinea pig seemed to move a tad more, and it even appeared that he was trying to breathe as I worked to clear a pathway. I'm in no way a veterinary or doctor, just a momma wanting to save a member of her family. All of this happened so quickly. I cleared his pathway, and the guinea pig started throwing up. We thought that was a good sign, but shortly after he passed away.

I felt anger, sorrow, pain, and loss, but also love and gratitude.

Our guinea pig seemed fine a few days ago. He was running around chasing us through the kitchen. We laughed and he wheeked(That's what you call a happy guinea pig sound). I wondered what happened. How I could have saved him. If I could've done something differently? We had no idea this was coming.

Uncertainty.

Uncertainty everywhere.

Today, was a breaking point for me. I had been okay, taking it one step at a time, adapting with what felt good to me and my family, and then watching my boy today, latched deep sorrow into my heart.

For him.

For our family.

For the world.

I screamed at the sky tonight, unleashing the hurt and pain. I wondered how many have also yelled up at the same sky. How many have wondered those very same questions I just asked myself.

Why?

What happened?

How can I save these people?

What could I have done differently?

I cried.

I thought about the sweet gift that we had earlier with that guinea pig before he passed. The gift of presence and time. I continued thinking about all that I did know and all that I appreciated.

I'm so grateful for all those who are working overtime through this uncertainty in the world, to save as many people as they possibly can. Putting their lives on the line, for a common mission. Being the ones to keep on fighting for those who don't have the strength. Day in and day out. I can't even imagine how difficult that is and has been. Thank you!

I'm so grateful for all the moments that I have to share with my loved ones.

I'm so grateful for what is working that I can see every day.

I'm beyond grateful for what I do know, and that is LOVE can move mountains and be the light in some very dark places.

I'm fighting for the light, love, and good in the world as there's much.

Magic Example

Beautiful people.

Beautiful moments.

Beautiful wonders that seem so simple, yet are beyond extraordinary. A sunset with a purple and pink hue as the backdrop. My leafless tree, as the centerpiece, hovering its strong arms over the earth.

An elderly couple dancing in the street, in the rain. Soaking wet, and splashing water at each other with every swing and tap. Always young at heart.

A tall man, who stopped traffic, and stayed there waving at everyone like he was in a parade, as a duck family waddled across the main street.

Everyday, I experience good and beauty in humanity.

There's one thing that I often see. Something so magical and wondrous, and it truly makes a difference.

This beautiful thing of magic is . . . example.

I know a teacher who shares this often. She's a 1st-grade Chinese immersion teacher, who works where my children go to elementary school. I like to leave a little early and wait in the pick-up lane. The teachers come out to make sure the kids are safe and that the cars are moving forward. At first glance, I noticed how this particular teacher smiled at every single person that walked by. EVERY SINGLE ONE. I watched a little closer. One by one, kids would come and hug her or hold her hand. The kids were all ages.

This teacher took a moment with every single kid, and each one waited. She got on their level and looked them in the eye while chatting with them. She hugged back. She squeezed their hands in loving response. She saw and heard them, really looking inward and listening intently. The joy that emanated off her sprung onto all those beautiful kids around her. I felt it in my car. The love that she had for each child. And, every kid left with a giant smile on their face, ready to tackle the world.

Kids need our unconditional love. They need time to have our undivided attention. They need to know they're seen, heard, and appreciated for all that they are. We get to be the magic that shows them that they're loved, adored, and treasured beyond belief.

How we make people feel is what will be remembered. It's a domino effect of light, love, and beauty that passes on for generations to come.

What kind of example would you like to be?

How are you going to use your magic?

When you smile, share joy, look for the beauty around you, feel gratitude, or jump at an opportunity to assist

someone who needs just a little help, you'll find it!!

You never know who's watching you, to understand their own magic.

I hate the hospital.

After past experiences of dying and being resuscitated, to having allergic reactions to medication that massively dropped my oxygen levels and heart rate, hospitals bring fear. A LOT.

For years, I emotionally, physically, and mentally had signs to look into some things going on with me, but I would ignore or pretend they weren't there. I'd tell myself that they would just go away. If I didn't pay attention to it, the thing bothering me would leave me alone. I didn't want to be a burden or a problem. I didn't want to ask for help because my faith and trust had been compromised many times. So, I continued to allow myself to believe that I could never turn things over to anyone again.

Faith has been an up and down rollercoaster for me. I believe. NO, I don't. I believe. It's all been tied to fear of the unknown and fear of uncertainty. Life is full of uncertainty. Therefore, my faith has wavered for a long time. 

Trust.

Trust within self? No. Trust with others. Absolutely not. Trust within God? Not at all. 

For the past few years, I've been working a lot on listening to what I need and responding. Placing trust and faith within myself that I know more than anyone what I need. For a month, I've been having massive headaches. Those aren't pleasant, but okay. I started telling myself they would get better and just go away. The following week, I had moments(episodes) where the room spun, and I could see the colors coming from my eyes, but my vision was blurred. I couldn't function when the episodes came on at random times. I had to stop, close my eyes, and wait it out. That meant sitting on the grocery store floor until it left fifteen minutes later, or pulling off to the side of the road until it ended and going home to keep me safe. When the pain intensified and I was having some trouble with speaking and processing my thoughts, I knew I needed to investigate.

My limiting beliefs of being a problem came in heavy and hard as I drove to the doctor. I even asked myself if it was necessary to go in. Maybe I need more sleep and water? But, I trusted in my ability to take care of me. I even thought to myself how if this happened to my child, I would've gone in immediately. I held my hand, and pep talked myself into going, being the mother to my own inner child at that moment. 

I waited and waited. 

I thought about leaving multiple times but didn't. I made friends with a little baby instead. A few hours later, I got in to see my doctor. The nurse gave me an eye test. For the first time EVER, I had read the eye chart perfectly!!

 My doctor then came in and put her hand on mine. 

"Why didn't you come in sooner?" she asked. 

I lightly smiled. I mentioned that I thought it would go away. That I believed it was from the fact that I got up to fast, or that I needed food or sleep. But, when I realized it wasn't getting any better, I came in. She checked on a few things and mentioned my lymph nodes on the back of my head were swollen. 

Okay! Easy enough. I asked a few questions and grabbed my purse ready to leave.

My doctor smiled at me. "There are too many red flags here for me."

"So, what does that mean?" I asked.

 "This could be something like cluster headaches, vertigo, or some ear problems. Which this is probably that, but it could also be a blood clot, a tumor, or something of that serious nature. I wouldn't feel okay having you leave my office without you getting that checked out. Do you want an ambulance to take you to the ER, or can someone come and take you now? I'm calling it in."

I stood up. "I'll get someone to pick me up. I'll just go wait out in the waiting room."

"Nope. You're staying in here until your ride comes, and then you need to go directly to Altaview  Hospital, to Emergency."

Remember how I said, I hate hospitals. Yeah. I was looking for an escape route at this point. The doctor left the room. 

I paced.

I peeked out the door, thinking I could ask to use the restroom and make a run for it. I thought about how when Andy came to get me, I'd tell him I was fine. The doctor just didn't want me to drive because I was dizzy. But, I stayed and chose ME. Before I left, my doctor sent me happy vibes and told me multiple times that she believed in positive thinking and to stay in that space. I received all that she had given me, and I smiled at how zen and loving she was. If she were an animal, she'd be a Gazelle :) The power of positive thinking is something I believe in too.

As Andy and my oldest came to get me, the urge to apologize kept coming in. Anyone else a recovering over apologizer? It goes into the whole, limiting belief of being a problem. A lie.  One that I've held for far too long. Instead, I said, "Thank you for coming to get me." And, that felt like a win. We left to grab our other two children from school and went right down to the hospital. 

When we got there, they directed me right to a room. I sat in a bed, reminding myself that I needed to have faith and trust in the people surrounding me. 

The nurses, technicians, doctors, my husband, and my kids.

I needed to show up for me right now so that I could show up for my family in a more healthy way. This has been the theme for me for the past few years. To get myself physically, mentally, and emotionally healthy, so I could be the best for them and me. Running on a low battery and self-sacrificing myself wasn't helping; it was doing the opposite. I was digging a deeper hole for myself to lay in. 

The lab technician came in, and we joked about my beautiful vein. I have one the size of Thor's baby. It's big, and I've never had any problems with getting blood drawn. I sometimes think that's God's humor of knowing that I'd need to have blood drawn a lot throughout my life. Juicy vein for you!

A while later, it was time for the CAT scan. I felt nervous as small confined areas are not my favorite thing, but I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. Meditation has been healing for me the past year. I guided myself through it and placed trust that I would be safe. I also imagined that the sounds were just a space shuttle, and I was being transported to the moon. Beam me up, Scottie!

Once back in my room, meds came in, and this was where I was the most afraid. I don't have good reactions, and that's where all my rough experiences with dying and such, has happened. I went over the meds I could NOT have. 

Morphine, Codeine, Lortab.  

I felt that I got louder saying each one, but maybe that was the fear ringing in my ear.

"What do these do to you?" she asked.

"Went into respiratory arrest with Morphine."

"Oh. Wow. Okay. I will take care of you."

I didn't say anything. 

At that moment, those words of trust and faith were hard to swallow. I didn't even know her.  Again, I took a deep breath and said, "Okay. Thank you."

When she came back with the meds, she placed the saline bag up, and it leaked on me just a little. She apologized.  I joked about that being far from the worst thing that's gotten on me. We laughed and proceeded to talk about messy cars and odd items we've found in our purse. Mom's purses are a garbage bag, didn't you know? 

Melted fruit snacks. Used kleenex. Lego's. Candy wrappers. Chewed gum. 

The medical students that were with her learned quite a bit about motherhood in a short period of time.

As the drugs began to work and I felt very loopy, I noticed my hubby standing by the monitor. It had never occurred to me that he had a very similar fear about my well-being in regards to the medication. There was a lot of trust he was placing in people he didn't know too. As I would start drifting to sleep, I fought each time to get up and look at the number on the monitor, making sure it wouldn't go below 90. I did that a few times before I reminded myself to trust. I had multiple people watching over me.

 I felt grateful to have Andy there. To have our kids cared for. To have doctors and nurses on call, whom I didn't know, but got to know better. They were doing their job, and I felt that support through the uncertainty of it all.

The results came back that I don't have a tumor or a blood clot.

My blood work is beautiful and healthy.

As I got the results, a limiting belief came in that all of this was a waste of time. I gently gave that limiting belief the finger and told myself that nothing is a waste of time when I'm taking care of my well-being. 

Nothing.

 The cocktail they gave me has worn off, and my head hurts, but I love the news I received.

I still have doctors to see and things to check into so I can help myself feel better, but I trust that I'll be able to figure it out. There are helping hands everywhere. You just need to be willing to receive them. When your heart, mind, and body is sending you signs. Listen. I firmly believe that our body is working for us, we just don't often trust in ourselves and others enough to believe that we already have the answers and the information we're looking for. 

Don't wait until it gets really bad. It will take you much longer to come back from that. Your choices not only affect you but those around you. It's a disservice to you to not answer the red flags that are going off in your body. Love and value yourself enough to check in with YOU.

There's ALWAYS time to take care of your well-being!

Showing up for yourself is joy and happiness!

I told myself "No" and "I can't" for a very long time.
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I dream big! Really big. I'm a massively creative being! I'm a visionary!! I'm an optimist!! I see what I want to do. The ideas and excitement is there . . . ALWAYS.
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But, I would halt constantly waiting for permission to soar. To create. To manifest. To lead.
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I played the victim a lot and sat in my misery waiting for someone to save me, and someone did . . . ME!
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After years of working to connect to my inner wounds and self, I realized that the person that was hurting me the most was myself. I chose to hold myself back, to say no, to believe that I had no value. I chose to give all my time and energy to everyone else, because I truly believed my worth was tied into what others thought of me. But, I blamed others for my lack of joy and happiness.
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I'm still working everyday on my relationship with self and that's something to massively celebrate!
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And, I'm doing it! Celebrating me. Creating. Soaring. Leading! I have a beautiful retreat home booked and ready for a creativity workshop in April. I just got confirmation that two of my role models, who I massively respect and admire, will be joining me on the Inner Enlightenment Show! I've had the amazing privilege of helping an author with her picture book to get it ready for submission. I'm sending Keeper of the Owls back to my editor.  The 2nd round of querying begins!!! And, I'm in love with the writing process on my latest novel.
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You get to create the life you want to create . . . AT ANY POINT. You get to choose to show up for you and be your biggest fan.
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Showing up for yourself is joy and happiness!