Get Empowered Now ~ Set Your Intentions Visually

It’s the first day of a new year and of a new decade.

I’ve been waiting for this day for months! January 1st has traditionally been a day to officially begin anew by giving ourselves a fresh start. Dissatisfied for decades with watching football games and taking down Christmas decorations on this most auspicious day, I decided that this year would be different.

It would be meaningful. Purposeful and deeply satisfying. And, you know…spiritual.

I began around midday with a candle lighting while listening to some of my favorite empowering music. I’ve been wanting to tap into some new feminine energies for the new year–skill sets and attritbutes within me that need developing and strengthening.

I also did some journaling, first focusing on a list of action items by making my traditional to-do list for the year. Honestly, I’ve been doing this for years.

But then I did something new. I focused on my emotional development, writing out how I wanted to see myself grow in spirit.

Like most people I’ve always had a hard time staying committed to my resolutions and staying focused on my to-do list long enough to create lasting change in my behaviors and my lifestyle. Since I am a visual learner, I decided that I needed a visual plan to help me maintain focus, stay committed, and integrate my new skill sets and attitudes into daily living.

I began to gather some creative supplies: magazines, glue sticks, scissors, pens, colored pencils, my journal–and a small, blank accordion book which would become my canvas.

It was time for me to put my hands and heart together and create a unique, personal and visual plan of my new year intentions.

Today I made a different kind of soul collage. It reflects less of my current personality and focuses more on who and what I want to aspire to be this year.

I edited my spiritual goals down to as few words as possible so that they could become affirmations and mantras. Here are some of my 2010 intentions:

Cultivate courage daily.
Don’t judge. Just accept.
Take action when inspiration strikes.
Practice loving self-care.
Live a creative life.
Practice allowing by not controlling.
Forgive others.
Seek simple pleasures.

I made the soul collage first by simply writing my intentions right onto the pages of the book. Then I started looking for corresponding images and words from magazines to give my list of goals a visual lift.

For example, I matched nests and bird’s eggs with live a creative life, and the inner spiral of a seashell to match the inner journey that is required to forgive others.

It was a fun afternoon project that allowed me to concentrate on getting off to a compelling start for 2010. I was able to solidify my thoughts and give them the respect they deserved with focused time. Since I need constant visual reminders of my goals, I like how the accordion book offers different glimpses of each page, like a kaleidoscope, because that’s how daily living is anyway. It’s a big amalgamation of everything thrown together.

Life is rarely arranged for us in a neat and tidy to-do list. In this way, at least for me, the coupling of written words and images will help me more consciously integrate all of my intentions into my daily personality.

Plus, lists get lost or shoved into files, piles, or altogether discarded. This little book–which I found at a local art fair–is a keeper. It easily fits into a tote or purse, or on a nightstand, for handy reference. You could use anything though, such as simple posterboard, a standard blank journal, calendar, or scrapbook paper, and display it in your personal work space, a dressing area, or other location where you can view it daily.

I hope you will consider taking your New Year’s intentions and creating a visual reminder of them for yourselves this year.

Intutitively, we all know that those who write down their goals, and then focus on them consistently beginning early in the year, are more likely to succeed in attaining them. Research also corroborates this thinking.

How do you usually spend your time on January 1st? Are you comfortable and satisfied with how you have approached this special day of the year? New Year’s Day can truly be a spiritual day of planning, unfolding, and becoming.

Why not do something for yourself that helps you continue to transform, grow, and evolve as you begin a new path for the next 365 days?

Pink Roses, A Windmill, St. Therese, and a Pinwheel

I found out today – on my birthday -- that yesterday, October 1, was the Feast of St. Therese. It is also her birthday. Though I’m not Catholic, I consider St. Therese to be one of my patron saints.

She had tuberculosis as a young woman and died of it at age 24 -- she was a “highly sensitive person” and as a child she was prone to fits and tantrums because she wanted to express herself and often couldn’t do so with clarity. Born into a very devout French family, she was also deeply empathic and passionate – her spirituality was highly evolved even as a young child. Her father called her “Little Queen.” She became a Carmelite nun at the age of 15 after begging the Pope to allow her entry to the convent despite her youth. On her deathbed she said that she would spend her time in Heaven "doing good on earth" and that she would send a "shower of roses” to whoever asked for her aid. She is usually depicted with pink roses and she is known as the “Little Flower,” a name she gave herself. She saw herself as a simple and small wildflower – unnoticed by many yet blossoming before God. She is also known for her spiritual contribution called “the little way” – acts of kindness, compassion, taking one step at a time, patience, humility, and practicing holiness through small sacrifices – these all embody “the little way” towards growing your spirituality.

I first “met” St. Therese when I got divorced. It was the first time in my life that I had to live on my own – like many girls I had left my family home and gone straight to a marital home. Sure, I lived “alone” in college, but I had roommates and certainly didn’t have to maintain a home and be “responsible” like I had to be when my marriage ended and I became a full-time working single mother in the middle of my life.

I will be honest with everyone. Despite my intelligence and career success, I had many fears if I could do it. I’ve received messages all my life that I’m not capable of taking care of myself. That I stink at household duties like laundry, cooking, grocery shopping, and cleaning. Accustomed to hearing the idea that I needed someone to look after me, interestingly, I married a man who did the laundry, cooking, shopping, and cleaning. I could never seem to figure out how to manage these things skillfully. If someone else wanted to do them and was good at them, that was fine with me. Now mind you, I could actually do the laundry but not very well and it always seemed stressful and a struggle. Cooking just seemed out of the question. My brain just couldn’t wrap itself around the multitude of tasks it required. Grocery stores thoroughly overwhelm me. So I was naturally very afraid to be all alone for the very first time and have to do these things without any “help.” I felt very alone, without a compass, so to speak, and I was dreadfully fearful that I wouldn’t make it. I’d starve, I’d never have clean clothes, and everything would be a jumbled up mess. Worst of all, it would mean that all the “messages” I’d received about myself as being dependent and helpless – and worse, “lazy” -- were true.

Everything’s Coming Up Roses…

But here’s the thing: When I moved to my new little house, pink roses kept showing up. I had never been a fan of pink roses before and at first I didn’t notice them. But people would buy me a gift for my new home and it’d have pink roses on it – plates for the wall, little dishes for the coffee table, cocktail napkins, framed pictures, pillows for the couch. Pink roses were everywhere. They were even in the new kitchen dishes I’d chosen, the living room curtains, and the housewarming cards that filled my mailbox. That Fall my birthday came and more pink roses arrived - from the florist, on birthday cards, in stationery and note cards, and china salt-and-pepper shakers. I was literally surrounded with them. I had never been attracted to roses before. Never had a "rose" in my house before I moved. And now here they were everywhere.

Shortly after my birthday, I went to a psychic to get a reading for the coming year, the first year of my new life on my own in the new house. The first thing she said when I sat down in front of her was "What's with all the roses?"

Seeing the look of shock come over my face, she told me that St. Therese was sending me a message. I had never heard of her. I did some research on her and found out about her tuberculosis, her childhood, her visions, and her deathbed promise. I suddenly knew that I would be okay. That I was not alone. That St. Therese had come not just to visit me but also to live with me and keep me company now that I was on my own. She also had come to tell me I was going to be and to do just fine on my own and to take heart, to cultivate my courage. She literally, through the roses, reminded me that I was going to survive and be okay.

What I did not know was that another, deeper connection was soon to reveal itself between St. Therese and I…

That weekend for the first time in a long time I went on a road trip by myself and stopped at an antique store on the side of the road. The first thing that caught my eye sitting on a table just inside the door was a still-life of a vase of pink roses beautifully framed in old silver. The vase of pink roses had a blue, Dutch-style windmill painted on it. I bought it for the pink roses and put it on my dresser next to my bed.

I felt that when I found the old print it was another message from St. Therese to just keep going and to trust myself and that even though I felt completely alone and often uncared for, kind of lost and bewildered, I really wasn't. And so life went on and I learned how to do my laundry without stress and fretting. I have worked out simple meal plans for my son and I which also makes the grocery shopping more manageable, and I have a housekeeper to help me with the cleaning up.

It wasn’t until a few years later that my then 86-year-old mother revealed that she had been born in a windmill in rural England. Imagine my surprise and the feelings of synchronicity I experienced at finding out that my grandmother, who I never met, birthed my mother in a windmill just like the one on the vase. And that my grandmother died 8 years later of tuberculosis while my mother was just a young girl. I also had tuberculosis as a young child at the age of four. Here then was a deeper connection to the pink roses in the vase with the windmill on it. St. Therese was there for my grandmother, too, and my mother. And now me. In my research of St. Therese, I had discovered that she is also the patron saint for those who are suffering with or who have had tuberculosis. And I, too, had some French lineage on my maternal side.

We are all connected…

When I look at that print of the vase of pink roses with the little windmill on it, I feel a tremendous sense of connectedness. Connectedness to my grandmother, who died long ago, before I was ever born or a part of any plan. Connectedness to my mother who was birthed in a windmill – a universal symbol for power, movement, energy, and life itself. Connectedness to St. Therese who continues to this day to honor her promise to all of humanity to shower them with her love and companionship through “the little ways” and through “showers of roses.” And connectedness to my own powers of observation, symbol knowledge, and being open enough to admit my weaknesses and accept the unexpected sources of strength that embolden me.

And so here is the other thing: I am writing all of this because yesterday, on October 1, a woman in Scotland who I have never met and who recently purchased a copy of The Pinwheel Girl Takes Flight, sent me virtual “pink roses” for my birthday through Facebook. I doubt if this lovely lady knew of the deep significance this might have on me. After a spiritual boot camp kind of year, I thought “there she is again, coming to remind me that she’s here…that I am okay, that I am loved…” I smiled to myself and felt a spiritual hug from St. Therese and a huge sense of gratitude to the lady in Scotland. When I e-mailed her and asked how she knew my favorite flower was the pink rose her response was: “It’s the pinwheel energy!” Again, I received chills. Pinwheels are just a smaller version of the windmill.

Pinwheels for Peace…

How can I explain this well enough for you to understand? Pinwheels are also for peace. And my grandmother’s name was “Olive” --- which means “peace.”

I always say “…there are teachers everywhere...” and indeed this is one of the core messages of The Pinwheel Girl Takes Flight. Be open to receiving…even in your darkest days, when you are at your most lonely, when you are despairing, feeling hopeless, or otherwise less confident than you usually are. Look at what is showing up in your life and pay attention. The Universe always delivers what we need…sometimes it arrives in the simplest of forms. Like a pink rose, the turn of a card, an old antique print, a windmill, and even a pinwheel.

Cook Yourself Up an Authentic Life

The Pinwheel Girl Recipe for Living!

Ingredients:
3 Cups of Courage from making your way in the dark
1 Cup of Self-Respect earned from pointing things out
½ Cup of Awareness honed by seeing with symbolic sight
2 Tblsp of Inner Strength gained from deep knowing
1 Tsp of Faith gathered from confident observation
1 Sprinkle of Intuition from listening to your Inner Voice
1 Big Dream claimed from the depths of your Heart

Prepare ingredients with an open mind. Preheat Heart to 375 degrees. Check temperature often. Freezing is not recommended for optimal results. Measure & combine all seven ingredients. Mix well. Carefully pour mixture into a mold of your choice. Bake thoroughly through all seven stages of transition. Check frequently for doneness. When done, let cool. Decorate as desired.

Serves one woman & all of humanity. Share with family & friends.

Inspired by The Pinwheel Girl Takes Flight ~ Every Woman's Journey Through Seven Stages of Transformation. http://www.pinwheelgirls.com
Feel the breeze!

Aren't We All Trying To Recover From Something?

September is National Recovery Month. Isn't that an interesting thought? NATIONAL Recovery Month. Wouldn't it be something if every single one of us across the country was able to participate in this month of celebration? Afterall, aren't we all trying to recover from something? And aren't we all trying to recover something we have lost?

This month I had the honor and pleasure to offer "Words of Inspiration" to twenty women graduating from addiction and substance abuse as they embarked on a new beginning of sobriety and fresh hope. The local Women's Center dedicated to women's transformation, healing and recovery was packed with over 100 people in attendance to witness the graduation ceremony and welcome women of all ages back to themselves, their families, and their communities. Counselors and caseworkers, child welfare advocates, judges and probation personnel, police officers, mayors, and agency professionals all gathered to commemorate this momentous occasion.

This is the third time I have attended graduation services at the Women's Center and I have to say that it is the best day of the year for me. I like it better than Christmas and my own birthday. Each year that I have attended this remarkable event I get to see firsthand the power of transformation, the glory of reunion, and the unbridled healing of love. The connectedness that exists in that room is so palpable it penetrates every cell in my body. There is a wonderful collective human spirit that rejoices when one of its own finally comes home, when one of its lost is found, and one of its wounded is healed.

There was laughing, crying, singing, hugging, dancing, clapping, sighing, cheering, and downright glorious fun to feel that good with one's journey. The camaraderie and feeling of community is second to none. And each time I attend I am reminded of the work I still have to do in my own life...how I must continue to recover, rebuild, redo, rework, reclaim, restore, rebirth, and rediscover my true Self and create my own Life...

I usually come away with several key thoughts each time I attend this precious event:

That Love is the most powerful force in the Universe and that it is Love, not Time, which heals all wounds.

That inspiration can be found anywhere -- even in the eyes of a broken soul who is struggling, miserably failing, yet still willing to create her own salvation no matter how grueling that may be to do.

That anything is possible. Truly it is.

That courage must be cultivated - DAILY.

That the doorway to healing is hidden in the PAIN, waiting for us to use it to bust open our heart so that we can rebuild it again stronger and more sacred still.

That saving ONE LIFE often saves an entire FAMILY. And saving one family often saves MANY MORE - and so on until an entire community is reborn. That the people who work in the field of substance abuse treatment are indeed saving lives, saving families and saving communities. When I think of this, I am humbly reduced to tears of admiration.

That every action matters. It really does. Every action matters. Never doubt for a second that any kind thing you do is in vain. It is not.

That every woman is a WOMAN OF WORTH no matter how much she struggles or disappoints you.

But most of all, I come away with the solid stand that EVERY WOMAN is capable of transformation, no matter what her circumstances, no matter what her background, her color, her educational status, her income, her faith or lack of it, or the depths of her pain. It matters not what others think of her. It matters not how society labels her. It only matters that she is capable of transformation...of reunion with her deepest and truest Self...of finding her way back.

These women in recovery are all role models for all of us. They are role models of sheer stamina, commitment to one's Self, survival, the most noble humility, and outstanding courage and bravery. No longer can I allow minor nuisances to annoy me and stun me and petty fears to stop me in my tracks. I must be strong and ever committed to a true reunion with my Self just like the women in recovery are that I met this month. Afterall, aren't we all trying to conquer our demons? Aren't we all trying to make our way in the dark? They are role models for me as I struggle to recover all that I lost, and all that is yet to be.

All this, and more, in a mere few hours on my favorite day of the year. To the women in recovery I say "You are not who you think you are. You are so much more." Thank you.

Let's all join in National Recovery Month -- let's all start working on finding what we have lost.

Photo Caption: Kendra Kett, second from left, celebrates National Recovery Month with the fantastic staff at the local Women's Services Substance Abuse Recovery Program.

Pinwheel for Peace ~ Peace is At Work Everyday ~ An Unseen Energy

In honor of International Peace Day 2009 I made this Pinwheel Power Symbol for Peace. The pinwheel is a universal symbol for change, transformation and transition. As the wind turns its blades, we are reminded of the unseen energies hard at work in our lives and in the world. When messages are attached to the blades of the pinwheel, the wind sends them into the world with each turn of the pinwheel. This pinwheel reflects on the idea that in order for World Peace to occur, we must each focus as individuals on our desire for inner peace and the absence of conflict within. If we want peace, we must choose it over conflict.

I chose key words like "Imagine Goodness," "Home," "Responsibility," and "Protection" for the pinwheel blades along with images of children, nature and animals.

"...peace is within reach..."

Feel the breeze.

Teachers Appear in Our Own Backyard Helping Navigate the Unexpected

So the other day, as I was cleaning up my Pinwheel Girl workroom, I saw a huge flash of BLACK out of the corner of my eye coming through the patio doors from outside in the backyard…

Something told to me to turn around and look, and as I did, I saw a second flash of BLACK….this one was even wider than the first.

The flashes of black were crows that had come to land on the fence posts enclosing my back yard. At first, you know, I was in awe…they were just so majestic perched there on the posts. And, wow, you know? There were TWO. Cool.

But a third one soon arrived. This one perched itself, first with its wings fully open from flight, onto a post on the other side of the fence…adjacent to the first two crows. This really made me take notice. Three crows were perched on my fence. I’d never seen a crow that up close before…and hadn’t realized the enormity of their size. They were imposing, but magnetic. Can you imagine three crows perched on your fence posts? It seemed , in a way, too good to be true.

"Wow, I should get my camera,” I thought. “I’m having a Crow encounter.” But then the three of them started to caw really loudly, and then one by one, each crow started flying towards something in the grass, flitting in and out, swooping down and up, over and over again, only to return time and again to their post. Then, to begin again within seconds the barrage of cawing, swooping, and flitting in and out of the grass.

I stepped out onto my deck to see what was happening and noticed a fourth crow in the birch tree directly in this area of my yard. It was observing more or less rather than participating. And then I saw a fifth crow perched high in my neighbor’s cottonwood tree – it also appeared to be “on guard.”

FIVE CROWS. “Hmmm. Something is happening here.“ Instantly, I started thinking about the number “5,” the significance of Crow animal medicine, and the sound of the “caw.”

But…to my horror, my BUNNY, who was out in the yard during all of this commotion, was the supposed target of all this crow activity. And there she was chasing them here and there, to and fro, til they returned to the fence posts. She was doggedly determined to chase them off, she flitted and darted, stopped and started. She even successfully chased one out into the open field behind my house. But they persevered in their attack on her…yet I could see her body running swiftly, outstretched legs, eyes wide open, chasing, chasing, chasing.

“Whatever is the matter,” I wondered. “What is this craziness?” I, too, then joined in the fray and started chasing the crows away.

In my naivete, I had no idea then what the crows wanted. I only saw my beautiful bunny, who has lived with me and my son in our backyard now for three and a half years, in total distress and under total attack. And so in that naievete, I was totally relieved to see that the bunny stayed put in the yard right where the crows had left her. I took that as a sign that she was comfortable with me…but perhaps, as I would find out the next day, that was quite a leap for me to make. I actually “consoled” my bunny, cooing to her, telling her I would protect her, softly whispering to her…and then I returned back to my workroom to continue with the day’s activities.

Much to my dismay the crows returned twice more throughout the afternoon and repeated their shenanigans. And twice more I ran out to the yard to shoo them away. Five crows…big, black crows with their shiny metallic black feathers, their loud, loud cawing…one rabbit…and me.

The next day I thought perhaps the drama was over, but I was wrong. Once again, the five crows returned and this time I saw one of the crows with a large piece of fur in its beak. During all of the swooping, flitting, and darting, it dropped the fur…and I ran out the patio doors to shoo them away again and give my bunny a much needed respite. It was then that I saw a small, brown, furry BABY BUNNY in the yard, just lying there out in the open, amidst a few tufts of yellowed grass. The fur that the crow had dropped had evidently been snatched from the baby’s nest in the grass – fur that came from my bunny’s own tummy to offer warmth and nurture to her young.

Now it was I who was in total distress at this point!

A baby bunny out in the middle of the yard with no protection! I knew that if I touched it chances of survival were slim to none. But what to do? I went into the house and came back out with a brush and dustpan. Why? I’m not sure. I had thoughts of moving it back into a more hidden nest area I could create in the grass. But by the time I returned, the baby bunny was gone. Nowhere to be seen, and yet the crows had not returned. Where did it go?

I poked around a bit and saw that the mother bunny had moved her young back into the nest area from where, possibly, one of the five crows had dragged it out. It was still alive, sleeping, heart beating. I could already see the development of its long ears, and its adorable cottontail. “Ok, well then, whew!“ was all I could muster at that point.

Back into the house I went.

That afternoon the crows returned and once again I was out there like a mother to the baby bunny myself. I felt this increasing anxiety and anger towards the crows. After all, five against one is a bit much, a bit skewed, don’t you think? I had noticed that all day, all night, from dawn to dusk, and through the night, my mother bunny stood watch outside in the yard, never leaving, never returning under the deck as she usually did. Instead she would munch ALL DAY on the leafy grass and then once in the morning and once at dusk, she’d hop over to the nest, lean over it, and nurse her young.

I was SO PROUD of my bunny! I must admit this. She was a fierce mother, determined, and completely confident against the crows. She was energetic, never tiring, always protective, on guard, defensive, and always at the ready. What a good little bunny.

But the afternoon brought more danger. The lawn service crew arrived and with them came the BIG LAWN MOWER. I had just gotten out of the shower when I heard the familiar roar. I was soaking wet and threw a t-shirt and sweat pants on and literally FLEW DOWN THE STAIRS, OUT THE DOOR, and INTO THE YARD, with my arms waving, yelling “STOP! STOP! STOP!” I showed the crew the baby’s little nest and the mowers agreed to steer clear of it. Another sigh of relief. Another “rescue.”

Again, I found that the bunny was teaching me lessons…just as she had when she first appeared in my yard over three years ago. Only this time, the crows were teaching me lessons, too.

Meaning of the Crow: Crow is an omen of changes to come. Crow medicine is about seeing all of our fates at the same time – past, present, future – in the Now. Crow medicine is also about having a powerful voice when addressing issues that seem out of harmony or out of balance. Crows encourage you to “caw” the shots as you see them. With the development of one’s Voice comes more personal integrity and character development and this allows loneliness to dissipate. Crow medicine is about shape-shifting your old reality into your future self so that there is balance between your past, present and future.

Meaning of the Rabbit: The rabbit is about fear and defense…leaping and hopping as a means of forward movement and escape…fertility and birth…sensitivity…and 28-day cycles due its procreation. Rabbits create “forms” which are used for hiding and resting. The rabbit digs a small, shallow “bowl” into the grass with an opening in front and in back to allow easy entry and exit. Often it is right out in the open but actually unseen. This means that people who identify with rabbits should probably plan for possibilities and not allow themselves to get boxed in or put in a corner. Rabbits can also easily shift from a freeze position to one of great speed. This is advantageous to emulate in that sometimes opportunities are fleeting and must be acted upon quickly in order to reap their benefits. Because of their sensitivities, rabbits can also show you how to see the various signs around you and then to respond accordingly.

I did indeed have a Crow and a Rabbit encounter this week. One that was dramatic and poignant. One that was hard not to miss in its clarity and directness. One that was pregnant with possibilities of what is to come as long as there is balance and integration of past, present and future. One that is highly instructive about setting boundaries, seeing the signs, being aware, and then acting appropriately in response. One that is about courage, determination, protection, quick thinking, awareness, purposeful action, and taking care of oneself so that others can be cared for, nurtured and protected efficiently. One that is about listening to the “caw” of teachers everywhere, even in our own backyards.

As I type this, I can see my bunny out there in the back yard, a shadow in the dusky early evening. She is munching away on the leafy grass that is due for yet another clipping. She is, as I have said before, one of my greatest teachers. I am so honored that she has chosen me to be her student in life.

To read more about the powerful teachings of the bunny who lives in my backyard, visit this post: http://pinwheelgirlmessagesfromthewind.blogspot.com/2009/05/there-are-teachers-everywhereand-wishes.html

Sources: Animal Speak by Ted Andrews, Medicine Cards by Jamie Sams & David Carson

Slowing Down...and meeting Dealer Dan

Today was one of those summer days when the sun is shining brightly but there is a sweet and cool breeze in the air...in other words, a perfectly blissful kind of day for slowing down and enjoying all the simple pleasures of summer. The sky is that hue of blue you lose yourself in...and there are cottony, billowy cloudscapes blowing by like a silent movie of shapes and forms to contemplate. The wind chime on my front porch is tinkling non-stop reminding me that unseen energies, like the wind, are always hard at work.

I found myself actually having fun folding clothes, chopping up colorful fresh vegetables, opening all the windows in the house and listening to the curtains flapping, watering flowers, and just generally puttering about my sun-drenched house and porch. I love these kinds of days...when my energy can catch up yet I can still enjoy the activities I am immersed in. Painting benches, framing art work, planning projects, writing and drawing, tidying up, decluttering...all of these simple activities calm and restore me.

That all being said today was ripe for an adventure of sorts. My energy and mood was calm yet open...

My 11 year old son and I hit some country roads up near the Wisconsin border. Earlier in the week I had seen a small "shop" literally on the side of the road about the size of a backyard shed with a big sign on it that said "Shield's Grocery." I thought I'd get Keaton excited about visiting "the world's smallest grocery store." "Really?" he said. "It really is?" he asked. "Well, we shall see...I think so..." was my reply.

There was a small cardboard sign perched on a chair propping the door open and it said "Fresh Asparagus. Sweet Corn Soon." Promising my son an ice cream from a big old fashioned freezer or maybe a root beer in a bottle from an old soda machine, he seemed game.

I don't know why but we were both excited as we walked up to "the world's smallest grocery store" - what would await us inside? We imagined all sorts of goodies...penny candy, farm fresh veggies, homemade sauces and salsas, old ceiling fans swishing the air about, some canned goods, and maybe even some old fashioned toys for some summer fun. Ok, so I'm quite the nostalgic type.

Imagine our surprise when we walked into, yes, it was actually a shed...full of tools, tackle boxes, saw horses, hunting knives, and other paraphernalia of this sort. Shelves and shelves of it. There was barely any room to walk. Fishing poles, life jackets, oars, and cigarette memorabilia everywhere. But...before you think that we embarassed ourselves walking into someone's shed on the side of the road, let me tell you that there was a glass-topped counter at the back and a friendly, smiling broadly, gentle old man behind it. Alas, it was indeed a "store" -- whew! -- but not for groceries...

My son was thrilled...everything in the shed was actually for sale. Upon closer inspection we found small paintings of eagles and pheasants, antique coins, glass milk bottles, fishing lures, keys and locks, election buttons from decades and decades ago, police badges, silver spoons, and more...

The old man behind the counter spoke...he was loud, louder than any adult I've heard in a long, long time. But he was chipper, gregarious...really glad we stopped in. He informed us right away he was sold out of asparagus and no sweet corn would be in sight for awhile. However, he had three different varieties of locally produced honey. "That there jar is from Belli's Farm right up there on 21..." and "Oh, that one's from the farm you just passed on the main highway...they got all kinds of things going on there..." and "And that one is from Hollister's -- they just started producing and they've been in the local paper..." My son and I knowingly looked at each other. There wasn't much else we'd be buying from the shed (or so we thought at that moment in time)so we put one jar of honey from each of the three farms onto the counter.

Ok, so we had driven 30 minutes to this little place...we had to make our drive worthwhile. We had to be polite and take a good look-see. We found a cigar box full of keys and locks much to my son's delight. He collects both keys and locks. So we dumped the contents out on the counter and started sorting "cool" keys and "not so cool" keys. Same for the locks. At 25 cents a piece for the keys and $1.oo each for the locks, well, why not? Twelve keys made it to the "keep" pile along with 3 locks.

Next up, the coins, political buttons, and tons of other assortments. Meanwhile, the old man continued to converse with us. "WHATCHA DOIN' FOR THE SUMMER?" he asked loudly of my son. "OH, YOU PLAY BASEBALL? WHERE? WHAT POSITION?" and "WHERE DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL?" and "HOW OLD ARE YOU?" and "WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH ALL THESE KEYS?" (Loud.)

Then he said to my son "Ya see this here key? When were you born? Well, this key was made nearly 100 years before you then." So we bought that one, too.

Meanwhile, I laid the small paintings of the eagle and the pheasant on the counter. Cute and kitcshy - definitely have to snatch those up, each was only about 4x4 inches large. My son picked up a police star, the kind you see pinned to the chest of a man in uniform...and asked the old man "Is this real?" and the old man said "WELL, YEAH, IT'S REAL!!!!" (Real loud.) Honestly, all three of us laughed a good one at that.

It came time to settle up and make our payment for our purchases. Thirty bucks later (!!!!) it was time to hit the road and find an ice cream and a cool, iced root beer in a bottle. Asparagus would have to wait for another "adventure" of sorts to the local supermarket. While I wrote out my check, the old man gave me his card and encouraged us to "stop by for a chat again real soon sometime." His name was "Dealer Dan" and the name of the "shed" was not Shield's Grocery but instead "Wads-It-Worth ~ Dealer Dan's Antiques, Collectibles & Doo-Dads" -- What a great name! We had most certainly wandered into a "doo-dad" shop. My son spent the rest of the day saying the word "doo-dad" over and over again. You know, at first glance it appeared to be a small farm stand along the side of the road...then it was "just someone's shed full of stuff" as my son had whispered to me, and then it transformed into Dealer Dan's Doodad Shop...

It was not too long ago that I felt I had left most of my dreams along the side of the road, like the little white shed. Dreams I thought I could never retrieve and rebirth...but the experience today with Dealer Dan, he with his huge smile and a glint in his eyes, a spirit in his heart and a loving kindness towards whoever appeared at his door, showed me that what is lost can be found...it's there, waiting for you...on the side of the road. And in all the joy one can find in summer's simple pleasures and an open heart ready for an adventure...

"...the unexpected is a gift...be open to receiving..."