She found God in the Thrift Shop

I’m only as woo-woo as my experiences have led me to be. Blind belief never came to me naturally, but when circumstances continually align in such a way, I must take note of the pattern.

I stumbled into my old morning routine as just right songs for my gratitude practice, yoga and meditation came up. The playlist and accompanying movements became a ritual, something like religion.

Four years later, I find myself guided by external factors more than ever. Much like Taoist teachings, I make practice out of going with, and not against, the flow of a day, season, or year. I find ways of ease in achieving goals, listening to my body, natural cycles of the world, and no longer fight against what is.

What’s something most people don’t know about you?

Writing prompt #2095

The more I go with the flow of life, the more gifts that are bestowed upon me. When I miss my turn to exit, I no longer feel frustration. My initial reaction, instead, is curiosity: “now what interesting thing will come of this?”

With that brings heightened awareness. Sometimes I have a whim to go somewhere, and instead of batting it away like a housefly, I assume: “there must be something, someone, or some experience that awaits me. I can’t wait to see what it might be.”

Several weeks ago, I was running errands and I got a sudden urge for tapioca tea. It’s not ordinary for me to crave things while I’m running errands, and it would get in the way of the grocery store trip I needed to make before the bus got home. But I was yearning. When I decided I’d grab the tea and get the few grocery items from Walgreens across the street, I walked through the aisles wondering: “who might I see here?”—but the thought passed until much later when I looked back at the situation. Because just as I was leaving, I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in years.

Funny how that goes.

I find these coincidences nearly every day. Because I’m engaging with people in conversation everywhere, I often think to myself that the encounter I just experienced with that person could not have occurred if, for example, I hadn’t sat in traffic fifteen minutes before. It’s a beautiful thing.

What about thrifting?

The first place I noticed consistency with the stars aligning was in my local thrift shop.

When I was building my wardrobe, I was thrifting often, but some things can’t be chalked up to coincidence. I’d think to myself: “I just need a plain white button down, or a pink one to make this outfit work.” And during my next visit, in my size I found a crisp white Brooks Brothers button down and a pale pink Brooks Brothers button down. (Y’all. Those retail for $118 EACH) Or like when I checked thrift to see if I could find anything to dress like the Statue of Liberty, and I found a full outfit down to the shoes in my size. I have more examples than you’re willing to read, I assure you.

I don’t thrift as often anymore, I’ve got enough stuff. But sometimes I feel an urge and I know that something specific awaits me.

this time, it wasn’t stuff at all

I had a busy day prior to a trip. I was nervous, excited and had plenty of things on my list and no desire to do anything extra. Yet as I pulled out of my driveway, I suddenly decided I should thrift now. I answered the call.

When I walked in the door, the song booming from the speakers was a 1984 hit sung by Steve Perry that not only shares the same name as my mother, but repeats her name through the entirety of the track. I laughed a bit to myself, and wondered if that was what called me at this time.

I wasn’t looking for anything, so I wandered quickly from one section to the next, her name sung on repeat, thinking of how she hasn’t spoke to me since our last conversation. It was then when she told me that my ex husband, her new buddy who I divorced fourteen years ago, was doing “so well.” I reminded her that he’s currently on probation for domestic violence toward the wife he is in the process of divorcing, and she screamed at me, saying “YOU DON’T THINK HE REALLY HIT HER, DO YOU?! HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT ABOUT HIM–“ I told her I wasn’t sure, but he certainly hit me. The same conversation when she said that the last time she saw my sister, “she tried to kill me”. When I explained to her that her behavior was harming me, she cut me off to say: “Kelsie, I have other things going on in my life.”

Oh, I must have been a dreamer
(Must have been a dreamer, oh-oh)
And I must've been someone else
(Someone else)
And we should've been over
(Over by now)

I was thinking about that conversation, and about how the night before, my husband returned from a guy’s trip & told me my mother had reached out to him to ask for $1100 a month for various expenses. He sent the first payment off, no questions asked, and made the executive decision to discuss it when he got home, knowing the turmoil her behavior puts me through and that I’d need his support when I found out.

But I should've been gone
Long ago, far away
And you should've been gone
Now, I know you'd lie, you'll stay

Oh, Sherrie, our love holds on, holds on
Oh, Sherrie, our love holds on, holds on

The song continued, I shuffled through the pants, shoes, books, distracted by the song and my accompanying thoughts. I got to the wall art and saw it.

You might recall my post, knees deep in mourning my eldest son’s absence, titled Grief, where I shared the classic Welcome to Holland essay.

Ah yes, Holland.

I laughed and thought: “Yes, this is Holland. This week, I’m headed to Vermont with an artist friend from Brooklyn with a bunch of her artist friends. This morning, I saw my son’s principal at the gym. To the instructor, she said: “Kelsie is one of the moms at my school. We have the coolest moms.” My studio is coming along, I’m building my art business, I’m friends with someone who I wrote down as an art hero six years ago. I’ve returned to my lifelong friendships and they’re more enriching than ever. I set new standards in my marriage and my partnership has reached its peak.”

Holland.

I checked out my items, and as I left, the cashier said, “I really hope to see you again soon.” The look on his face showed he meant it. I left the cashier laughing at the pet store. Next up, at the hardware store, I waited patiently in line behind the many professional painters, muscling a gallon of paint to return, realizing this is definitely their rush hour. When my turn was up, I placed the gallon on the counter and before I could speak, he said, “I know exactly why you’re here–one sec.” He went to the back and grabbed a can that had my name misspelled on a piece of paper on top.

“You guys gave me the wrong thing just so you’d see me again soon, didn’t you?”

“Well–we might have!” A smile spread across his face. “Barbara was so worried you were going to go home and use the wrong thing. She tried to chase you down but you had already driven away. So sorry–“

“Oh, no worries, I just figured y’all didn’t want to wait too long before you saw me again, I took it as a compliment.”

We joked a bit more and I stepped out the door, face to face with an acquaintance, who said “I thought I recognized that voice!”

“You always hear me before you see me.”

After our conversation about our home projects, I headed home, accepting the urge to take the other way and found the mom of my oldest son’s best friend walking down that street. I assumed she’d judged me harshly for his departure, but we had a lovely heartfelt conversation about her own experiences as a teenager and her relationship with her parents at that age.

& more Holland

That week I headed to Vermont. As luck would have it, my trip coincided with the day my neighbor’s daughter ran out of her medication, and I got to drop it off to her at her University in Massachusetts, saving her mom 5 hours + of travel and surely plenty of stress! Before I met up with my friend and soon-to-be friends for our art retreat in Vermont, I was tasked with visiting our new house in Vermont, an investment my husband and I purchased at the price of the land it is on several months ago. We are working to flip it and use it for short term rentals during ski season. My car insisted on a charge, so I was lagging behind on time to meet with the contractor when I got stuck behind a slow driving FedEx truck for over 35 minutes. He finally turned.

Holland is designing a mountain house for my family to regularly host others so we can snowboard and ski Mt Snow together. It’s having a studio in that house, too, so I could host art retreats of my own, in Vermont, where peace is a cloak that allows my shoulders to lower from my ears when I hit the state line, see the mountain views, and in this case, the glorious fall folliage.

come to think of it, real Holland is around the corner

In January I put down a deposit for a trip with the Erin Hanson in 2026. This time next year, I’ll be retracing the steps of Van Gogh with her on a European river cruise.

ok, ok—message received! I’ll make the post!

Yesterday, I was sent back to thrift. The coincidences were many and I’m sure you’ve heard enough. I couldn’t help but think that for 16 days I’ve wanted to share about all this Holland business, as I had another serendipitous day with lovely interactions throughout. I’ve been busy in the studio lately but felt it necessary to share this stage of grief, after all the mess. Some call it Holland, others call it Acceptance.

& then the thrift shop offered these to me:

Those, my dear reader, are house shoes designed to look like wooden clogs, a national symbol of–well, I’ll let you guess.

I think I’ll wear them in the Vermont house.