Nudged: Visit a New-To-Me Bookstore
I love to read, and I love real books: the feel, the weight, the smell. No Kindle (yet) for me, although I occasionally get audiobooks from the library to listen to in the gym.
What Happened: I delivered a client job early, and though there were still plenty of things I could do with the couple of hours left in my work day, nothing was pressing. I grabbed my wallet and car keys and took off.
Omnivore Books on Food, just a short drive from home, was my destination. As I mentioned above, friends had been telling me for years that I would love it, and I was not disappointed. The tiny, cozy shop, tucked away in a residential neighborhood, was filled with my kind of “crack”. Tables stacked and shelves filled with cookbooks, stories from writers in the kitchen, plus books on techniques, cultures, and every flavor and course imaginable. The top shelves were lined with vintage books that took my breath away, but I didn’t dare touch for fear of blowing my reasonable budget. I ended up with a novel about bread, a Laurie Colwin classic, a history of gin (totally geeked out on that one), and a memoir with recipes by a San Franciscan who moved to Paris, David Lebovitz. I think he’s going to be my new favorite food writer. His forte is desserts. Um…bliss.
The Ah-Hah: A side bonus of my nudge was discovering a new-to-me neighborhood. Often, in programs for shaking things up, we’re encouraged to drive or walk a new route, both of which are on The List of nudges, so I’m thinking I might come back here when I draw one of those.
Meanwhile, the big ah-hah came from a conversation I had with a friend a couple of hours after I went to Omnivore. As I was describing the wealth and variety of cooking and foodie books—and all but drooling over the phone—she interjected with, “I couldn’t stand that. Now, if it was a bookshop on gardening….”
So here’s the funny thing: For the last couple of years I’ve been trying to convince myself that I am into gardening. I’ve shopped garden center sales, created vegetable plots, watched online videos on planning and pruning, and read books of all sorts on the joys of gardening…and felt no joy whatsoever. None. Pretty much bored out of my skull. Doesn’t matter that my mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and both siblings had or have fabulously green thumbs. Somehow that bit of DNA has skipped past me, and no amount of nudging on my part is going to change that. What I need to do is embrace that I am not a gardener. Instead, I am a passionate home baker-chef-foodie who loves experimenting in the kitchen and sharing my culinary wins with family and friends.
This, to me, is a great example of letting one way close so another can open. It just took a little nudge and a trip to a fabulous bookshop for me to finally accept my authenticity and move on.
P.S. Independent Bookstore Day is coming up on Saturday, April 28. If there’s a neighborhood shop you love—or one you’ve been meaning to check out—I hope you’ll take this opportunity to support them.
