Wonder

 

The Bookshelf

Thomasville, GA

At such times, I can always steady my life once more by returning to my soul. I ask it, "And what is it that you want, dear one?"

The answer is always the same: "More wonder, please." As long as I'm still moving in that direction--toward wonder--then I know I will always be fine in my soul, which is where it counts. And since creativity is still the most effective way for me to access wonder, I choose it.

-Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic

This essay is composed in the font, Georgia, in light of my experience of wonder in that beautiful state prompting the writing of this essay. This essay was initially written in March 2021 after I visited The Bookshelf for the first time. I didn’t publish it at the time, but two and a half years later, as I prepare to travel to Thomasville, GA again to visit The Bookshelf for Reader Retreat, I thought it was time to publish my ode to this wonderful shop. Note that its storefront looked like the above photo in 2021 but now has new branding with a different sign.

I'm sitting at the desk at my grandparents' house while rain taps on the skylight and Doc snores on the couch in the Florida room. I've decided to continue to call this my grandparents' house, even though both have since passed away and my mom now owns the house.  It's still mostly decorated with their wall hangings and decor, still has most of their furniture, their dishes, and their photos hanging on the walls. It still smells like their home to me, and so I'll continue to call it that probably for years to come, even though they will live mostly in the memories of this place.

I'm still in my season of rest from work, though I now have a North Carolina nursing license, which comes as both a gift and a burden as I consider what I now want to do with that license.  But in my season of rest, I decided to travel to Florida to visit my grandparents' home and spend some days in the Florida sunshine, where it feels like I am tucked away in some ways from the whirl of the pandemic around us.  When I decided to make the trip, the thought crossed my mind to stop in Thomasville, Georgia to visit The Bookshelf, a shop that I have followed and supported as a long distance customer for a few years, mostly because of my excitement for and deep admiration of its owner, Annie B. Jones.  

I am forever trying to find a way to be in Thomasville so that I could experience the wonder of this shop and meet its beloved owner; when my husband had continuing education courses in Augusta, GA, I was Googling how far Thomasville was.  When my 30th birthday was approaching, I was trying to find friends who would travel for a girls' trip with me. When I drive to my grandparents' house in Florida, I'm always wondering "is it close enough to drive to for a day trip?"  A few years ago I told Scott I was going to take a day trip there from Weeki Wachee, Florida, but upon realizing it was almost 4 hours away, I chickened out and decided "maybe another time."  I had read about the Reader Retreats that were held at the Paxton House and researched the pricing/packages and whether we could swing this for a long weekend a few years ago.  

And then, suddenly, a year into all of this, the pandemic was pressing in on all sides and my heart wanted to do the things that it loves that have been either delayed or eliminated entirely due to the pandemic.  But one thing that I know for certain that I could still do was get in my car, add a stop a few hours out of my way as I drove to my grandparents' house, and see both the shop and shopowner that I felt so deeply connected with in ways I could not quite explain. So "maybe someday" became Thursday.  

I wrote a small snippet about my trip there on social media the other day, but for fear of writing a lengthy memoir, I stopped short and did not write all that I truly wanted to say. What I wanted to say is that there are some people in this world who influence you in such ways that you feel like they are part of your journey, and Annie is one of those people to me.  I followed her blog, Turning Pages, years ago, long before she was a bookstore owner.  One of my dearest friends, Shannon, sent me the link one day and told me she thought I might enjoy this blog.  I read the words she wrote and I felt deeply that she experienced the world around her in a way that I could identify with; her writing style and prose reminded me of my own-- the way she put the words on the page felt familiar to me, in a way that I wanted to pull up a chair to hear what she had to say. 

When Annie became a bookstore owner, she felt like a true Kathleen Kelly to me (and she describes herself as such, which I love).  Shannon and I cheered her along through the internet, and soon my dear friend, Chancey, joined us in that (I can't remember when Chancey joined our following, but I know she has been a longtime follower at this point).  We frequently ask one another, "Have you seen Annie's recent newsletter? Did you read about ___? I hope she's doing OK, this seems so hard.  Did you see what The Bookshelf is doing? How exciting! Are you caught up on the podcast?" It has been such a delight to be a long distance customer, but I was so grateful for the opportunity this week to be a customer in the store as well.  It felt like the chance to go from cheering on the sidelines to actually going out on the field to cheer during halftime.  When someone is doing something in their lives that matters to you, I think it's important to tell them that; in the internet age, we are so fortunate to be able to do that through social media, but what a gift it is to actually stand before someone to cheer them on in the old-fashioned way, to show up at their shop that is 8 hours from your home to let them know that what they are doing matters to you. 

Sometimes the internet feels like a battlefield.  It feels harsh and like everything you scroll through just leads to more horror. There are days when wish I could just quit the whole enterprise, and sometimes I do. Sometimes I take breaks from it because it is too difficult to be in that space.  But sometimes you find cracks of light coming through the darkness, and you find someone who is speaking hope in that space, bringing a sense of wonder and whimsy to the little squares on your phone.  Annie B. Jones of The Bookshelf and author Shauna Niequist are two people who consistently provide those cracks of light for me through their writing and for Annie, through her creative work at The Bookshelf. 

Elizabeth Gilbert, in her book Big Magic (a book that I read while sitting on my kayak with sun shining on my face a few summers ago, trying to underline, seemingly, every other word), says that she knows that as long as she is moving towards wonder, she will be fine in her soul (see quote at the top of the post).  I remember reading this line and thinking about all of the wonder in my life that pushes me towards creativity, towards writing.  

Visiting Annie's shop this week brought a sense of wonder that will stay with me for a long time.  I cannot describe what it was like to pull into a parking spot in front of The Bookshelf in words that will do the experience justice, but I will make an attempt (Elizabeth Gilbert also says “A good-enough novel violently written now is better than a perfect novel meticulously written never," and so I will make my attempt, violent though it may be). 

I turned onto Broad Street looking for where my GPS said I should see the white brick painted storefront, eyes darting from shop to shop until I saw the twinkly lights and knew I had found the place.  I saw a parking space right out front and pulled in, tears brimming in my eyes as I beheld such a sight of wonder as I have not recently experienced.  

One of my favorite Old Testament passages in in Nehemiah when he is asked to meet with some of the enemies of Jerusalem while he is rebuilding the wall of Jerusalem that has been destroyed.  He responds to their request by saying,  “I am doing a great work and I cannot come down.”  Of course, I was not an enemy of The Bookshelf showing up to distract Annie from her great work, but I can imagine how busy and difficult small business ownership has been during the pandemic (and even during normal times), so it felt like a gift that she was willing to say hello, to stop doing her great work to come down.

My visit was short because I had been driving for 8 hours already and had another 3.5 hours to go in my trip to my grandparents’ house.  My dog, Doc, was also waiting in the car on what was a surprisingly hot day in Thomasville for early March.  I suppose it was surprising to me, having driven from Asheville where we were still in winter clothes, but for the residents of Thomasville, the hot day seemed fairly routine.  I had been communicating with Annie via Instagram direct messages to let her know that I was coming, so I sent her a message that I had arrived.

While I waited, I browsed the shelves that I had long caught glimpses of on social media; up close, the window displays and the carefully curated shelves brought an even greater sense of wonder.  I felt like I was walking around a place that was so familiar to me, yet it was only my first time there.  I didn’t understand how Annie and her wonderful Bookshelf team had managed to create such a beautiful space that both invited you into its own story while also cultivating a sense of nostalgia, like this was a place you’d been before and would always want to come back to.

Annie came up to me as I was browsing, both of us masked because it was of course, what we all did during pandemical times.  I felt teary as we stood and talked about various things, how I loved the shop and everything I was seeing, what books we were reading, why my dog was causing a scene out in the air conditioned car as people of Thomasville walked by.  I remember her telling me that Thomasville was a dog-loving town, that Doc was welcome on the streets of Thomasville.  I had carefully taped a sign on my passenger side of my care to indicate that he was in an air conditioned car, had recently been walked, and had just had some water.  I couldn’t stay long at The Bookshelf because I knew even with the air conditioning on, it was too hot to leave Doc in my blue Honda civic for too long.  Annie indulged me in a photo together, both of us wondering, “is this ok during a pandemic?” Everything at this time seemed so foreign— basic human interactions had become awkward and confusing, but Annie was so gracious and kind in taking a masked photo with me. 

She went back to her work, and I went to the register to purchase a few items that I had picked out to travel home with. I was thrilled to see that they carried Le Pen, my favorite writing utensils to date (and this is coming from a nurse who knows good pens); I placed one on the counter to purchase along with a t-shirt and a book.  As I walked away, I held this sense of my soul welling up with joy and contentedness.  I couldn’t wait to tell Shannon and Chancey about this, couldn’t wait to plan another trip and bring others along to experience the wonder of this magical place.  

When I got to my grandparents’ house, I unpacked my car and got Doc settled in, and then I opened my bag from The Bookshelf.  Inside, in addition to all of my things that I had purchased, there was a coffee mug with a painted scene of Anne Shirley and Diana Barry with the words “kindred spirits” below.  I teared up again, realizing Annie must have asked her colleague to include this in my bag.  I’ve long adored all things about Anne Shirley and the story in Anne of Green Gables, and when I thought of kindred spirits, there were a few people who came to mind.  Having followed Annie’s writings for years, I felt quite certain that she was indeed a kindred spirit, and having this coffee mug to remind me of that and my trip to The Bookshelf felt like a gift I would long cherish. 

“Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It’s splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.” L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Greene Gables.

I hope you find yourself in places that bring a sense of wonder, that you find people and places that spark that sense that you have found something beautiful to hold onto and to inspire you in the days ahead. And if those places and people are hard to find in your life, well then maybe you should find a way to make it down to Thomasville for a few days. It's hard not to find wonder there.