Early one hot August Saturday morning, I walked through a park near where I live. I like the quiet the early morning brings to me. The day was muggy with no breeze. Nothing was stirring except the few brave joggers and dog walkers. Passing a playground that was empty, I noticed one swing in a line of six start to move back and forth, as if someone was sitting on the seat and pushing themselves up and back. None of the other swings were moving. I looked around to see if some little person had just jumped off, but I was the only human around.
The swing kept gaining momentum. I watched for a while, fascinated and feeling privileged at this view through the veil. It’s what I call a Woo Woo moment. If we are honest, we all have them, often explained away or ignored completely by most. But others, like myself, embrace them. A lifetime of Woo Woo interactions has given me a comfort zone.
The town I live in, Frederick, Maryland, is known to be a hotbed of Woo Woo activity. Seeing swings move all by themselves is, well, just child’s play. I just smiled and nodded my head towards the swing, and wished its unseen tiny occupant a happy day and got on with my walk.
My mom would often ask, “What is wrong with you?” and dedicate her energy to making me “normal.” I have heard a different voice inside of me, a gut feeling pushing me in a direction Mom never wanted me to go. But I have no choice. I can not stop listening and responding any more than I can stop breathing. I tried it Mom’s way, to embrace a world where no Woo Wooing is allowed. I damn near killed myself in the effort to make myself be something I am not.
So what am I exactly?
I am a Giver of Trinkets. Simply put, I have small items come to me, and I know who these gifts or trinkets belong to or I hold on to them and the right person is made known to me. I might know the person, I might not. I wait for the urge to give the gift to someone. When the urge comes it is always the perfect time to be received, it never fails. The trinket can be anything: buttons, pictures, records, lace, jewelry, often books. There is much I want to share about being a Giver of Trinkets, and I look forward to sharing in a future blog post. However, today I want to share a recent encounter that has been unique.
More than three years ago, a book fell off a shelf as I reached for a different book next to it. I was in my favorite used bookstore with shelves and aisles piled high. It’s not so unusual to have a book or books tumble out when reaching for something else, but this book was different. This book had energy as all the trinkets do. It was a sweet small volume almost 140 years old called Bonnie Scotland by Grace Greenwood, published in 1885. I opened the front cover to see a simple 
inscription in pencil: “To my son, Frederick Gregory on his 10th birthday. From your mother.” I fell in love with it instantly and became curious about Freddy Gregory, but this book was going to have a new owner. Like I said, it had energy–woo woo energy. I knew exactly who it belonged to from the moment I touched it.
The book’s future recipient’s energy had circled into my life a few months earlier. I had no idea who he was, or even what his name was. He is an actor and I have learned a very success one. Before the book found me, I was stumped why his energy showed up. Of the countless lives I have touched with these little trinkets I have never had a trinket for a public figure. Did he need healing energy sent his way? Was it unconditional love? These are often the longings of many. And there had been times when I was led to do nothing more than offer such energy to someone.
But, crap, a celebrity! I didn’t like the idea in the least. I do not follow celebrities, don’t care what they think, or what they are doing. I don’t need any of them to know how to dress or vote or act. I am happily, blissfully ignorant of almost everyone in the entertainment industry. The idea that I had to find and give this little book to someone with such a huge public presence put me off. I simply did not want to do it. I’ll admit I pouted. This was something new even in my Woo Woo world. I had never failed to deliver a trinket once I understood who it belonged to, but this might have been the first. I was so opposed to the notion that I refused to even learn the man’s name. For a couple of months I simply referred to him as That Fucking Actor.
I got a very clear message one night while meditating. If I did not do this, what this man needed would come to him in a different way. He would not lose out of what was his, but I would lose out on the gift this interaction had for me. Woo. What? I had never contemplated that when I gave a Trinket I was also receiving a gift. But here it was plainly being said. I could make the choice to not seek him out but I would also be the one who lost out. That put me right back on my heels. I was beginning to see that this Trinket was not going to be normal for me. I was clueless if this actor found this type of thing normal. Did he embrace Woo Woo moments in his life? I had no idea. Regardless, I made the decision right then that I would commit to delivering this little book to its new owner. I would stick with this new journey right to the end, wherever it would lead. I asked Freddy to help with this endeavor and to my delight the energy of a 10 year old boy began to be my constant companion. Besides, I pondered: how hard could it be?
How hard indeed! For the next two years I tried every avenue I could. I started a Twitter account, a new Facebook account. I contacted his manager and was rebuffed in such a startling way that I was taken aback at the reply. I was clearly out of my depth, a feeling so strong that when I look back, it still comes forward.
[Editor’s note: Part 2 tomorrow!]