books.kids.love.other suff

Month: January 2018

#19 – Use It or Lose It

I was talking to a friend the other day about our town and he referred to how, here, like most places, if you don’t use things, you lose them. It got me thinking about that saying – Use It or Lose It. It’s a good one. And so especially relevant to present times.

Tenuous is a word that comes to mind for me on a regular basis. Not just because it’s a great word. But that feeling of something being vulnerable, weak, thin – that is a feeling I often have being in the independent book store business. I also often think that it is how my business is perceived by many in my community. People who haven’t been to the store in a while, will say to  me – “You’re still here!”  Or, “I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here.” Or something to that effect. It bums me out every time. I can’t imagine its very good energy going towards Bee Hive if people expect it to fail.

And yet, people are just responding to the reality of the way things are. We are living in a time in which it takes conscious effort for small establishments to be sustained. Actually – any brick and mortar business, not just the small kind.

And so when my friend mentioned Use It or Lose It to me the other day, it really hit home for me. Can we be mindful enough to save our Main Streets? Can we get back to a place where it isn’t a surprise when the locally owned business you haven’t been to in a while is, indeed, still there? Will physical store fronts be relevant when our kids are  grown-ups?

If we get lazy and take the easy way out and expect that other people will carry things enough that they won’t go away – they will go away.

I am not writing this up on a soapbox as an independent book store owner. I am writing this as a resident of a small town that often sees places – favorite, beloved places – go away. I am actually writing this in response to the reminder that, if we get lazy and take the easy way out and expect that other people will carry things enough that they won’t go away – that they will go away.

We are not experiencing a time in which independent, local, community-building – is valued or supported at a higher level. In fact, we are very much at a place where the bigger you are – the bigger you become. Everyone else is at a pretty high risk of disappearing.

And so, I believe it is up to us to be in this together. To be aware. To be mindful of the places – restaurants, shops, theaters, art spaces – that keep our communities, our shared experiences, our daily interactions rich with connection, surprise, depth, and memorable moments.

If we don’t use these places, they will disappear. No one, no thing has their backs or is looking after them.

But us.

#18 – Gratitude (part two)

December is an abundant month in the book store business. It is about three weeks of people buying piles of books. Inventory goes out as quick as it comes in. It is a bit like a feeding frenzy. Customers want recommendations – for all ages – we give them, and they buy them. Its pretty great.

Every December, I think, If only it was always like this! I would be able to run the Bee Hive with such ease. Pay bills with no problem. Trust that the books I buy will be bought. The Bee Hive’s sales associates would stay busy and consistency would be a given.

And then January hits.

January is not, historically, as robust as December.

And so, rather then dwelling on the lack of robustness, it is the perfect opportunity for a few more shout outs to the little things…

Pajama days or, at least, Pajama long mornings. Waking up late(ish) or (er – then usual) hanging in P.J’s, lingering over pancakes or waffles or anything that is a vehicle for maple syrup; not having to be anywhere and not caring about leaving the house or not, because its cold and dreary outside – is definitely a lovely thing to be thankful for.  Cash and Olive are born-P.J loungers. They would be delighted doing nothing but reading, playing/listening to music, snacking, watching British cooking shows, Lego building, playing board games (see next item)….every. single. day. (It is actually usually me that drags them out of the house at some point, in need of fresh air and some form of movement.) These types of days are pretty specific to winter for us. The rest of the year, it seems we are hustled out by obligations or some form of recreation. Pajama Days are luxurious, restorative gems that the nature of winter so generously bestows upon us.

Board Games. Many, many hours can be swallowed up by board games at my house. It started with Candy Land. How can you not be mesmerized by King Kandy’s decadent land of Gumdrop Mountains, the Ice Cream Sea, and Lollipop Woods? From there its been an endless stream of Sorry!, Life, and all-time favorite Clue. We make tea, pop popcorn, take turns selecting the songs for our soundtrack, and settle in….Beautiful, focused time spent doing our best to kick each other’s butts.

“Pajama Days are luxurious, restorative gems that the nature of winter so generously bestows upon us.”

The Endless Possibilities Of A Clean Slate. With each morning – no matter how challenging the day before was, for whatever reason – there is always a fresh start. A new year is even that much more expansive in promise. New beginnings are awesome that way. They so perfectly butt up against endings. They are salves of hope for the bruised, weary, and bummed. And they always show up. New beginnings are never not there.

Conversation. I have always loved getting into the nitty-gritty of things. I, personally, have a  great need and desire to talk about the things beyond the surface. The things that often go left unsaid. Or sharing about what we’ve responded to on Netflix or movies we’ve seen. Of course about the books we’ve read. The things that connect us. Make us feel heard. Seen. Validated. A part of something. It is thought that conversation is dying in our culture because of the focus on devices. Can we afford to endanger something that is so intrinsic to what and who we are as a species? Shouldn’t we instead practice it? Preserve it? Cherish it for all it fills us up with? I have so much gratitude for conversation. May we never go silent.

The Quiet of Winter. The Bee Hive may not have as many customers. Things may be a little bit more challenging because of the dark and the cold and the more effort living takes in general compared to warmer, lighter times of the year. But its quiet. More reflective. Perfect for staying in our P.J’s, playing board games, reading books, filling our reserves with pancakes, and restoring for our new Spring beginning where, hopefully, we’ll be ready to converse, connect, and buy lots of books once again.