A piece of Cake

Sometimes things are just plain unexplainable, period. We call it synchronicity and coincidence, but speaking now, for myself, amazes me whenever these “chance” alignments occur. I’ve heard it referred to ‘physics with an attitude’. (And, infinite LOVE is at the center of physics.) Examples in real life though, help us to believe that the Universe conspires to bring like-minded things together in a vibrational sequence. It’s about living in the moment, being open to possibilities and certainly going with the flow.

Some things just seem to be beyond our control. Or perhaps, everything is?  Are we riding in the passenger seat, while larger invisible life forces known as our higher self and soul drive things around us based on our very personal intent? We are after all co-creators, right? Or sometimes, we deliver the messages of what others’ need to hear—or are in need of? Do we serve as divine message carrier?  More and more, I am beginning to feel this is Truth with a capital T.

I was out on the Olympic Peninsula for just about the entire month of July. I had volunteered to make dinner for friends, and the decision as to the menu was entirely up to me. After a number of considerations—I decided homemade pizza—sans homemade crust; store bought refrigerated crust would have to do this round. Scrolling mentally through my mental list of ingredients, I quickly realized, my pizza stones were at home in Florida. I was spending more and more time on the Peninsula, so, why not invest in the proper equipment and leave it here? Easy thought and idea, huh?  As you know, many things do not go as planned, and this was no exception!

With instant delivery, overnight service and that giant known as Amazon, I assumed this purchase would be a piece of cake.  My Friend Brad didn’t have a mailbox at his Sequim home, but I thought for sure, Amazon would have lockers nearby. After all, Ft. Lauderdale certainly did, and I snubbed them every time I walked into the local Whole Foods.

To make a long story short, Amazon and Walmart did not have what I wanted—or should I say—couldn’t get it to me with the speed I had become accustom to. It was Wednesday and dinner was Friday. Plan B: There had to be one.  

Now Sequim is the gateway to the Olympic rain forest, the Pacific Ocean and the playground for hikers and RV’s. But, it’s often a challenge to manifest things in an instant or so I thought!  Therefore, an idea occurred. I’ll call this Plan B. I would drive the 40 minutes to the touristy town of Port Townsend. I had visited there a few years ago, and It seemed to me there was a small kitchen store. They certainly would have the large pizza stone I was in search of. And, so the adventure unfolded. 

On the way into town, I stopped at the Goodwill. You know, one man’s unwanted clutter is another man’s treasure. No pizza stone, but a bargain for a William-Sonoma muffin tin. 🙂 Onward ho . . . I had spoken to Brad’s neighbor on Whidbey Island to see if she was available to meet in PT for lunch. “Oh, Cathy,” she said, I am elbows deep in cookie dough, going to be at my daughter’s house tomorrow.” “Next time, raincheck,” and I hung up the phone.  During our brief phone conversation, Joan had suggested the Mercantile Quimper, just beyond the ferry loading dock. The store was cute, and had a lot of stuff—in fact small 12” pizza stones, but that wasn’t what I had in mind. I continued my quest . . . the cooking store, the Green Eyeshade, back to What’s Cookin’, Don’s pharmacy (which still had a working soda fountain), Henries Hardware, and back up the hill out of town. I had passed Habit for Humanity’s store on the way in and decided to give it a go. Who knew what I might find in peoples’ discarded household articles and unwanted items? I parked, and spoke to an employee loading chairs into an elderly woman’s Toyota as I walked to the entrance. “Pizza stone, yea, we get them from time to time, but they’re not a high demand item.” I nodded my head in agreement, I guessed he was right. And, this was where things got interesting . . . 

I followed his instructions and soon found myself in their “kitchen” department. Quickly, another female employee greeted me, and asked me what I was looking for. I explained my quest—and she shook her head. “The woman who runs this department is off today, but I haven’t seen one lately.” Shortly, a conversation ensued as I was obviously talking to another cook like myself and we were discussing the finer points of homemade pizza and alternatives to my pizza stone dilemma. Minutes later, a slender 40ish looking man in a blue t-shirt and jeans appeared from around the corner. “Excuse me”, he said politely, “I am sorry, but I overheard your conversation, and I have a pizza stone if you’d like it.” Wow, that would be fantastic I thought and the woman and I glanced quickly at each other. “No charge—I will give it to you.” He continued, “my wife doesn’t like it, and she told me to get rid of it. You can have it.” I shook my head and smiled, “sure, that would be great. Thank you.” 

He, Matt—now I knew his name, had another stop in town before heading back to his house. We traded numbers, and he said he would text me when he arrived back at his house. In the meantime, I decided a quick bite to eat would kill the hour or so wait, and based on the suggestions from the women at the counter, I headed down the road to find The Cup for a bowl of chowder.  “Wow. That was divine intervention” said another older employee who stood behind the counter as I headed out the door. Yes, it was! 

It was a cute little restaurant in what looked like an old remolded house—painted latte-brown with a few scattered red umbrella’s and some outdoor furniture—for those celebrated warm days in the Northwest. I was seated and ordered my chowder, grabbed a piece of the local paper to read and I waited for my food. As I paid my tab, I wanted to leave the waitress a larger tip and dug into my wallet to pull out a Susan B. Anthony coin that had been riding in my wallet for months. I looked up, most of the lunch crowd had disappeared, and I caught her eye. “I’m leaving this dollar and I wanted to let you know, it wasn’t a quarter—with the other singles on the change tray,” I said smiling. “I collect those for my grandson, thank you”, she said. We chatted for a minute about her grandkids, and then I got up and headed the towards to the door. 

Now, I happen to be wearing my purple WASHINGTON husky wind breaker that my father had sent me several years ago—and a man working behind the counter looked at me, and asked me, “Did you play ball for Washington?” “Yes, actually I did—about a 100 years ago”—and smiled back, and stoping to talk for a moment. I can’t remember the exact sequence of our chat, but I had to be me—and shortly into our “light” conversation, I stopped and said, “You know, you were born magnificent.” He was wearing a baseball cap and pulled it over his eyes and bent his head downward, placing his hands on the high counter in front of me that separated us. I continued, “Maybe that’s the real reason I came in today?” “You know we all carry divinity inside—but sometimes we just need to be reminded.” We are all part of the One.” With that, I detected, for whatever reason—and whatever his story caused a welling-up deep emotional reaction.  I reached over to the counter, where he had laid his hands, and put mine on top of his, giving his fingers a squeeze. He gave my little finger a squeeze back.  He had had all he could take and I silently walked out the door. 

Whatever your Truth, sometimes we all need to be reminded of our divine magnificence. I left the restaurant, and followed my GPS to Matt’s house, where I happily accepted his gift, and my new pizza stone. I left Port Townsend with a smile. There were so many things to be grateful for—and the Universe had conspired in a most unique and exciting way to make everything happen perfectly. I just followed the cosmic crumbs! It had been a day of soft sweetness—and the Universe had delivered me a delicious piece of cosmic cake.

 

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