Buyers Remorse

So there I was in a small resale shop on the east end of Costa Mesa in Southern California, fingering through a row of books that smelled of moth and urine. While the prospect of being in such an environment may sound ill-fated and undeserved, I was in heaven. I love finding things that were once special to someone, a specialness that was forgotten and tossed aside. Whenever I find such treasures, I feel like a god who is redeeming beauty from the rubble. Maybe that’s an arrogant and ostentatious kind of statement, but it’s the way I feel.
Anyhow, as I was browsing through the stinky and crusty titles, an elegant and brightly colored book cover caught my eye. It was decorated in a bohemian color palette, and paisley printed patterns that were raised from the page. The design of the book immediately invoked a sense of appeal in me. Of course this would be the book to accompany me on my plane ride tomorrow morning. This book would be a fictional account of a gypsy who traveled the world in search of love and self. Or maybe it would uncover in grave detail seven practices to uncovering my spiritual self and inner child. It could also be Deepak Chopra’s latest effort, which is equally tantalizing but not as exciting. Man I hope its not Deepak Chopra. I look down. Ruth Graham? Boo…
Yes, a devotional by Ruth Graham. Now, I know you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but come on? Ruth Graham? I’m not going to read a book by Ruth Graham. Im sorry. Its not happening. I threw the book down and bought flats instead.
I know what you are thinking. Ive disappointed you. I disappoint myself every day. And Im okay with that. What Im not okay with is being someone Im not.
Im not a spiritual super-hero. Im not a girl who reads devotionals written by Ruth Graham. Im someone who prays in their closet and would rather ditch church sometimes to have coffee with a friend. Im someone who never laughs at televangelists and who always gives the street preacher everything in my wallet. Im a walking contradiction. Sometimes I want to be more like someone else, but more often than not, Im happy with me. I feel like one of those knick knacks you find at a resale shop, something hidden under a deteriorating candle and a corrugated frying pan. Many people will throw me down and go buy flats. Some will pick me up and see what was forgotten and tossed aside.
After a week and a half with my dad, it was easy to remember how it feels to be forgotten and tossed aside. Thank you to everyone who saw what was special and decided to take me home.
Man I feel bad for not buying that Ruth Graham book.