YOU'VE CHANGED

I love street art. I love street art that is both aesthetically pleasing and intellectually meaningful.

The other day when I was walking to campus I stumbled upon the street art pictured in this photo. I stopped and stared. When a piece of art arrests my attention to the point that I stop and stare, I consider it good art. If the work of art causes me to keep thinking about it after I've left it, I consider it great art. This was great art.

"YOU'VE CHANGED." When I saw these words spray-painted on the sidewalk, I had no choice but to enter self-reflection mode. The bold and anonymous assertion cut me to the core. YOU'VE CHANGED. The negative ways that I've changed flooded my mind. My filters of rationalization became temporarily disabled, and I saw my whole self. Not just a leg or an ear or an arm, but everything that I am. I've changed. I can't deny it.

But then my mind turned to the leaps and bounds I have made. I have consciously changed destructive aspects of who I am, and every day I work actively to maintain those improvements.

I have changed for the better.

I don't know what the ratios are for how much I've changed for the worse vs. better, but I can confidently say that I have changed for the better. And it felt good to acknowledge that.

It's OK to admit to yourself that you are making progress. Self-reflection need not just be a rebuking and punishing of self. It is essential to admit to yourself where you have changed for the better so you can maintain that progress.

I loved the physical placement of this message "YOU'VE CHANGED." It lies on the sidewalk that people tread every day, a path they travel mindlessly on their way somewhere else. I find it fascinating that the demand for introspection lay on a travelling path, rather than at a destination. 

I think we often choose to have our most significant self-reflecting moments when we reach a destination. Destinations can be expected or unexpected. When we graduate school. When someone close to us dies. When we are somewhere beautiful. When a relationship ends. When huge opportunities fall in our lap. It's times like these that we sit ourselves down and make assessments.

However, it is so important to look inwardly and make small necessary changes as we go. While we're on our way to our destinations. If we do not make assessments of how we've changed as we go, then we will often come to harsh realizations when we reach landmarks. We will see our leg and our ear and our arm for what they are, and we may not be pleased with what we see. So think about it now. YOU'VE CHANGED. How have you changed?

The lady at Walmart thinks I'm artsy

This story is true. I'm not sure if it's a social commentary on the culture of the people of Walmart, or if it's just a piece of prose I wrote to amuse myself. In any case, I feel obligated to memorialize it. If not for your sake, then mine.

The other day I felt the need to print some photos I took. So I ordered photo prints online through Walmart. Unfortunately, my photos usually end up over-saturated when I print them there. This dampens my spirits momentarily. But then I remember how inexpensive they are and I cope because I am a poor college student.

I also felt the need to purchase a book I've desperately wanted to read for quite some time now. I was surprised to find that Walmart sold it online, and through its Site to Store Pick-Up, I could buy it for a cheaper price than anywhere else. So I did.

On a Saturday afternoon, I traversed to this magical place to collect my treasures. I quickly bought some groceries so I could sooner start the fun part: retrieving my photos and new book. Bananas, strawberries, avocados, wheat pasta, almond milk, guilty pleasure chocolate protein shake. Check.

I hurried to retrieve my book from the Site to Store Pick-up section of Walmart, where a tall brunette man materialized from a back room. I revealed my intentions of picking up the book. His eyes reflected subtle surprise, and he informed me that people hardly ever order books at Walmart. He gladly gave me my book, I gladly received it, and I was on my way to the photo department.

The Lady sat. The Lady sat in her apathy. The Lady sat in her apathy until she mustered the will to ask, "Can I help you?"

I smiled and said, "Yes! I'm here to pick up some photos under the name of Kristina Smith."

The Lady found my photos amongst her files. She pulled two of my photos from their sleeve and asked "where I got them." I told her I photographed the images, because I did. She gave me a pointed look that undoubtedly carried the subtext: "AND I'M THE QUEEN OF SHEBA." The Lady returned the photos to their sleeve without a word, acting like she'd let me slide on this one.

I asked The Lady why she questioned the origin of my photos. She replied, "Well. they look kinda like...artsy. So if you got them online [here she paused and gave me accusing eyes], they're probably copyrighted or something, and you're not supposed to print them without permission."

I reiterated the fact that I took the photos. I even told her the shots' locations. A smirk sat, fastened indefinitely to her face.

The Lady clung to her opinion like a tiny starfish on an artificial boulder. However, as she married her opinion, she also entertained her apathy. Drenched in her indifference, she ultimately permitted me to print photos which she presumed I stole from the Internet.

As I walked away from this strange scenario, I was mildly ruffled because of my inability to penetrate The Lady's mind with truth. However, feelings of amusement and even gratification prevailed.

I don't how much fulfillment a human being is supposed to feel when a Walmart employee deems their photography to be professional in quality. And I don't know what it says about a person when they feel flattered in such a scenario. But for a good five minutes, I felt pretty good about myself.

The lady at Walmart doesn't know it, but she thinks I'm artsy.