When Dreams Come True in Unexpected Ways

When Dreams Come True in Unexpected Ways

It was 1977 and 1978 that I played the flute in my high school band. My flute was different than other’s had, as it was the most beautiful color that looked more like an antique silver.

It was the winter of 1978 when the love of my life would walk through the gymnasium doors during a basketball game where I was playing flute during half-time. Though I didn’t know it at the time.

He was four years older than me, having just graduated from the same high school six months earlier. My whole freshman year and he being a senior, I would often find a way to make sure I could pass him in the hallway. I was smitten with him all the way to my toes!

But alas, I didn’t think he really knew I existed. Or perhaps as I realize now, he too, was quite shy, like me.

After that basketball game I’d find myself walking home with my best friend and my flute case in hand. Just as we were crossing the bridge, one block from my home, that guy I’d been smitten with pulled up in his large brown Pontiac. With those bluer than blue eyes, and a smile that melted my heart he said, “Would you like a ride home?” 

My knees wobbled and I stammered, “But I’m almost home,”  pointing straight ahead. Thank goodness for my wise friend standing next to me, who held my secret of this crush I’d had for so long. She gently stuck her elbow in my side and said, “I can walk the rest of the way and wait at your house for my mom to pick me up.” 

That is the last time I remember my flute playing an important role in my life. In 1984 I married that apple of my eye and we’ve been married for 33 years now (and will be together 39 years as of this January).

Over the years I’ve pined over playing the flute again. But I’d sold it a few years after I got married and often times regretted the decision. And a few times I even did a bit of research to see if I could find a similar flute again.

That special silver flute wasn’t meant to come back into my life. My leaning more and more into ancient wisdom teachings and wanting to be more connected with nature, I’ve felt the pull toward a simpler life for quite a few years now.

And sometimes dreams come true in new and unexpected ways…and feel more in alignment with how far you’ve come and what is of importance at this stage of your life.

In high school, the thought of a Native American flute would have never crossed my mind. But this is the grace and beauty of expanding and evolving in who we are and what matters…

And the gift of this EarthTone Native American flute from High Spirits Flutes gifted to me by my mom this Christmas has touched a special place in my soul. It calls to me often beckoning me to sit for a few moments and play.

With the recent passing of my sweet Kylie the day after Thanksgiving, it was the last week or so that I wanted to learn the best I could how to play Silent Night  after my mom said I should play it for Kylie because she knew she would hear it.

In my newsletter this week I shared a special holiday message from me and Miss G, along with my debut of playing  a short version of Silent Night on my flute…and so I share with you too…

Merry Christmas to each of you and thank you for being here on my blog, reading my stories, listening to my oracle readings, and for all your love and support.

Much love and gratitude,

Barbara (and Miss G!)

Grandma’s Visit from the Other Side

Grandma's Visit from the Other Side
Image from

Driving home yesterday after a trip to JoAnn Crafts as I neared home, I glanced down at the clock in my car. It read 11:11am. I see that particular set of numbers quite often. 

Just as the thought crossed my mind that there must be an angel with me, the song “Away in a Manger” came on the radio. And yes, I was listening to Christmas music already.  🙂  I really had no intentions to listen so soon, but we had our first light snow yesterday, and well, I guess it kind of put me in the mood.

But I digress. As soon as I heard this song I knew who my angel was! It was my grandma Pipping coming for a visit. It was as if she was right there in the passenger seat next to me. When I was a little girl, I loved when she would sing “Away in a Manger” to my sister and I. In that moment, I was there again, in her house listening to her sweet voice singing.

I do believe that our loved ones who have crossed over find ways to make contact with us. And it is usually when we least expect it. For me, it’s a feeling of deep knowing that comes over me that confirms for me that indeed, my Grandma was right there with me in that moment. I just couldn’t see her. But I felt her presence very strongly.

It almost feels like a whoosh and gush of warmth filled with pure love that moves rapidly from the top of my head down to the tip of my toes. I couldn’t help but smile and feel so loved and comforted in that moment.

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The Road Less Traveled. My Heart Reminisces and Blossoms.

The Road Less Traveled. My Heart Reminices and Blossoms.

There was a time in my life that taking the shortest, fastest route was how I traveled anywhere I went. Just thinking about that now makes me want to jump out of my skin.

These days I look for the most scenic route to take. This often means taking the back roads. The roads less traveled these days it seems. I try to avoid the long stretch of speed and concrete on the super highways if possible.

I actually feel different and better when I do.

This morning I didn’t plan accordingly with my time when I set out to go to the dentist. As I was driving 70 miles an hour down the highway I felt my soul shrink into a safe place, not wanting to keep pace with the cars rushing by me.

I knew after my dental cleaning was done that to entice my soul back out of its cocoon that a picturesque ride back home would be in the cards.

The dentist office I go to is about a half hour from my home. It is also close to the neighborhood I grew up as a little girl. I didn’t have anywhere to be after my appointment so I rambled home the long and slow way.

What a treat!  I love driving down Geele Avenue to 10th street where I walked those sidewalks many a times when I went to Washington Elementary School. I don’t have vivid memories of being a young girl, but I do remember bits and parts. Like trick or treating at night, which I loved and wish they still did today. I also remember playing “Barbie dolls” with my friend Liz on the different corners of our block.

When I travel this way, back to the “old” neighborhood I think about all the good memories of my childhood. Past my house on 10th street I went. Such a long time ago. Another life and many chapters ago. Going past the house I lived in until in the seventh grade, I often think of my childhood friend, Kelly. I fondly called her Kewee and she called me Bwarpie. She lived a few short blocks away and between the two of us we had a pretty big stuffed animal collection.

I took the country roads home, listening to the Doris Day station on Pandora, which I’m addicted to lately. Past farms, barns, cows, sheep, horses, and blossoming trees as my soul slowly peeked back out again. I swear I heard it sigh in relief.

And past part of the Sheboygan River I went. Not a car in site, so I got out and took the photo above. I could hear the water rushing under the bridge and it made my heart feel home. There is just something about nature that makes me feel at peace.

As I got back in the car I silently gave thanks for this time I had to take the long way home. The road less traveled never seems to feed my soul in such a beautiful way.

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