The tale of a shopping cart.
Yesterday, wearing all black, Lane and I walked into the woods at the end of our road and stole a shopping cart.
"Stole" is a dramatic word, really. We simply took the little, black shopping cart out of its natural resting state and rolled it down the road towards home.
You're thinking things. I know you are. You're thinking we walked into the woods and stole a shopping cart from someone who is probably experiencing homelessness. I should state the facts: There was nothing in the shopping cart. No people in sight. And, because I am creepier than you know, I watched that shopping cart for four days before rescuing it. It didn't move from its place. Every day, on my afternoon walk, I would stop by the woods and look to see if my shopping cart was still there. There it sat, untouched.
Actually, I walked by one morning and thought I saw the shopping cart moved to the side of the road. At a closer look, this wasn't my shopping cart but another shopping cart-- clearly from Petco. Word around the neighborhood (because I asked people) is that a man with back issues uses that shopping cart for walking support every day. So I am not really sure why we have a collection of shopping carts scattered around our home but I can promise you-- I DID NOT TAKE HIS SHOPPING CART.
"It's a Petco shopping cart he has," my neighbor told me. "Always a Petco shopping cart."
So now you are wondering, why did you steal a shopping cart? Truthfully, I don't have an answer yet.At first, it was just a shopping cart that someone probably stole from Kroger. Then it morphed into a black, minimalist shopping cart. Then it became a Pinterest fixer-upper shopping cart. And then, finally, it became my shopping cart. I fell in love with the petite shopping cart the more I thought about it. I imagined filling it with things.
I am pleased to find out Lane didn't turn me down when I called him at work to tell him about the shopping cart we needed to rescue from the woods. As if it were a puppy we were thinking about adopting, I gushed about all the reasons why we needed a shopping cart in our apartment. We could put blankets in it. File folders. Storage. A makeshift hamper. Possibilities = endless.
He followed me out the door after his yoga class. We walked casually down the road. We lifted the cart down the hilly path. We rolled it home, beaming with pride. He cooked salmon and asparagus on the stove while I had the job of cleaning our shopping cart with spray and a rag.
"This is like our first pet," I exclaimed.
"No," he said. "It's actually a shopping cart."
Surprisingly, more people talk to you when you are rolling a shopping cart down the road. They are intrigued by you. We had more conversations with people in the span of 10 minutes it took to get our little, black shopping cart home than we'd had in our neighborhood in the four months of living there. Something about a shopping cart brings us all together.
I actually don't know if this is illegal. If I should even be writing about the shopping cart now sitting in the middle of our apartment. I have to tell myself there are a lot worse things I could be doing in the world than stealing an abandoned shopping cart.
I told Lane I was going to write about our shopping cart today. I didn't know what I would say but I am tickled by its presence and I wanted to say something. And then it occurred to me: this is probably very strange. This is probably not common.
And then I thought to myself, if you're reading this blog then you're probably a bit strange. You are probably not all that common. That's just the vibe I get from people who read my things. They're dreamers. They're people who make stuff happen. They're people who see the good, the potential in shopping carts.
Maybe people wonder how your mind works or why you see the world as some place to make big things happen. I know what it is like to have people judge you or look strangely at you because they don't understand you. I know it's painful to feel shut down for seeing the good in this life and trying to be positive about it. I can tell you, though, that the world needs you more than you think. We need more people who see the good in the world, not more people to shut down dreams.
When it came to our cart, I saw something Lane couldn't see, my mother couldn't see, and my neighbors couldn't see. And it's okay to have vision. Don't let anyone shut you down for having a vision, either. You just do your thing and keep your head up. You only need one person to believe in you. It only takes two people to carry a shopping cart down a flight of stairs.
I know you might think it is important to have all the support or backing of everyone in the world but I can assure you, you don't need it. More people doesn't equal better. The coolest and best things start because a small band of people is crazy enough to invest in them.
So go right on with your crazy, bad self. Roll that shopping cart home, baby. Don't watch it from the woods, looking to see if someone will grab it first. If you want that thing, go for it. Go after it. Don't wait for the world's approval and don't let fear tell you someone else is supposed to get your dreams first.
I can promise you this: most of the things I've done in my life look a lot like this shopping cart story. I get an idea. I doubt it. People don't always see the vision. I do it anyway. It's been the most valuable thing of my career and my existence to be someone who doesn't see life as a mud pit or a problem. Life is a beautiful thing and I'm lucky to dance inside it. I'm always going to be the girl who sees a bigger purpose for a shopping cart and goes after it. I think we need more people who see potential where other people see nothing special. I think we are all capable of opening our eyes and seeing something different, something more beautiful than what we saw yesterday.
Step one: steal the shopping cart from the woods.
Step two: figure the rest out as you go.