Tonight I found myself wandering around the Albertson's grocery store on Mercer Island looking for something to fix me.  My solar plexus felt like a weight was wedged there.
 
I walked down the snack aisle.  Orville Redenbacher Caramel Corn was on sale 2 for $4.00.  Red grapes?  How about white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies from the bakery?  The deli attendant put three hot wings into a little paper bag.  Maybe low blood sugar was my problem.  The only thing I managed to resist was Chocolate Soy Silk.

Or what about a book?  I've been cruising the book titles, searching for the answer, searching for some balm to ease the ache I sometimes feel; something to give me clarity.  If I read just the right metaphysical, self-help, creating your life-type book, I will feel different.  It will give me the secret recipe.  A cup of prayer, 5 tablespoons of meditation, a pound of self-sacrifice, mixed with a little woo woo just for insurance and then maybe I will find some comfort.


I devoured three chicken wings while sitting in my car in front of Island Books  on Mercer Island.  Walking through the front door of the store, I glanced at the table of books to the right.  A hand-printed sign indicated that table held new arrivals in fiction.  Glancing to the left, I smiled.  Fran's Dark Chocolate Caramels with Grey Sea Salt sat on the counter. 

Island Books is a small book store; quaint with little displays of hand-made soaps and other gift items scattered through the store.  In the far back was a children's section.  Here and there a chair was hidden in an aisle or a corner for customers to rest and read.  I tested a chair and scanned Dr. Wayne Dyer's book, There's a Spiritual Answer to Every Problem.  I've never been able to read his books.  I moved on.

I couldn't decide.  No book looked like it held the magic solution to mend all the broken parts in my life.  Fiction doesn't attract me but I follow Paul Coehlo on Facebook.  I like what he says there.  I read about his book, The Alchemist (aff. link), which was first published in 1994.  I didn't read fiction sixteen years ago either; not to mention that I'm just defiant enough to refuse to read a book just because Bill Clinton and Julia Roberts liked it.

An hour later, I sat curled up on the corner of the red Ikea love seat that I purchased off Craigslist.  The Alchemist was in one hand, chopsticks in the other.

Introduction to The Alchemist:

. . . we all need to aware of our personal calling.  What is a personal calling?  It is God's blessing, it is the path that God chose for you here on Earth.  Whenever we do something that fills us with enthusiasm, we are following our legend. However we don't all have the courage to confront our own dream.

And, I remembered why I am where I am.