copyright by Jenny O / Plan.O. All rights reserved.

The Power of Analog : Festive Finds

Blessings often come disguised as setbacks. Once you’ve been through enough, it’s hard to be disappointed, even when things go wrong. Yet we humans are forgetful—and when something bad happens, we act like the world is ending. I was no exception.

I went to the market full of excitement, hoping to sell every piece. You can guess what happened: I came back home with four containers and a table full of unsold decorations. On the drive back, I blamed everything, cursed everyone, and muttered, “I’m never doing this popup market again. What a waste of time!”

I retreated into my cave, letting my heart heal. But I bounce back quickly. I thought, “Even Vincent van Gogh couldn’t sell his paintings. One failed attempt and I give up? No way.”

A good friend from Finland recommended I try The Yard Coffee popup market. I signed up immediately. It was tough, heavy, awkward, and many sales failed—but I met Christin Sakelarios. She helped me carry heavy containers and, she says, the uneven pavement brought us together. I’d argue it was her kindness.

Christin invited me to her annual event. The venue was amazing, full of creative ideas—but advertising worried me. She relied on local newspapers, flyers, and street signs. Having worked in tech for over a decade, I couldn’t help but feel anxious.

I made a website to help, but time was short—and she wasn’t interested in tech. I had to accept it. I told myself: “Just enjoy the small, cozy event.” Still, I hoped more people would show up because I could see how much she cared.

Finally, the day arrived.

And I was shocked—not by the sales, but by the authenticity. This was a real local event. Everyone knew each other—friends, relatives, regular customers, even her banker. It felt like a Korean wedding day: a few hours full of joy, genuine smiles, and excitement.

That day, I felt truly seen. Living in the U.S., I often feel like an outsider, a “foreigner weirdo.” But the warmth, support, and kindness I experienced that day healed me in ways I didn’t expect.

This is the power of analog. The power of honesty. No flashy ads, no exaggerated promises—just people running small businesses who could be friends, family.

I’m grateful for the experience. Even today, when small setbacks come my way, I smile. That, for me, is a blessing disguised as hardship.

Thanks again to everyone who visited that day—my friends, relatives, and even my former coworker. It meant so much to me.