Stories of Spirit…A Peddlers Life [pondering from the road]

SalicrowpeddlerMy Great-great-Grandfather was an Irish Peddler before making his way to Canada & eventually Vermont.  I don’t really know a lot about him.  I do not know if he liked his job, what he sold, how  big of a circle he traveled or whether he missed his traveling days after settling down with a wife & children.  I do know that traveling is in my blood.

As I drove home yesterday from Worchester, VT I began pondering on the similarities between myself and my great-great-grandaddy.  I started thinking how in many ways my life really isn’t that much different then his.  I travel the long road to work on a regular basis, radiating out from my home up to 1.5 hours one way (so 3 hours of travel any given day).  Yes I measure distance by time & yes I do realize this statement immediately gives away the fact that I live rurally.  I generally like being on the road.  There are times; like snow storms on  Winter nights that make me question this choice, but for the most part I like it.  It keeps my Gypsy soul sane, giving respite to the fact that I have lived in the same home for 17 years (my husband is a Cancer & requires home).  Growing up I never thought I would live in any one place for that long.  Hell I had moved 14 times by the time I was 9…so moving was part of life.  My sister & I handle this need for relocation differently.  Sandycrow rearranges the rooms in her house a few times a year; sometimes painting the walls as well as changing the furniture.  Me I just drive around in circles like an old time Peddler selling my wares.  I love the time I have alone in the car; watching the world go by.  Sometimes I listen to recorded books, but to be quite honest most of the time I am visiting with my Spirits; my Dad in particular.  He loves to ride around in cars (or jeeps in my case).  In fact it was one of his favorite pass times while living & is no surprise to me that he would want to visit me while I am out and about.

The Celts believe that we reincarnate into our Soul Family, often choosing to come back again and again into the same bloodline.  I know I have done this & I do think there is something in our Blood that sings to us.  It’s hard to escape who we are & our soul stories are often stored in our DNA.  I see this more and more as I age and I watch the dynamics of my Gypsy family.  Those of us who have settled in one place often find ourselves running the roads, or being filled with wanderlust that suddenly takes us to far away destinations, or short mini adventures that just clears our brain of the fog stagnation places there.  Knowing our Ancestors and where we have come from has much to teach us, for we certainly do repeat & recreate the tales of our Blood.  While pondering on my Great-great-grandfather I also wonder if like me his carriage was filled with passengers invisible to most peoples eyes.  Did he ride around talking to his Mom, grandfather or cousin who had passed into Spirit?  I believe he did.  I believe the road held many wonders for him & that he was seldom lonely.

I hope you enjoyed the read folks.  I’m off on the road again this afternoon heading 1. 5 hours south, most likely visiting along the way with someone I love.  If you like my writing please share it with a friend.  I appreciate the support.

spreading love-salicrow

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2 thoughts on “Stories of Spirit…A Peddlers Life [pondering from the road]

  1. Jan Herrin says:

    My soul family calls to me. I know I have lived many Native American lives. Even a hawk sitting on a pole will go to the center of my being. I will cry the connection is so strong. I say things, to people I trust that I miss Jesus. I miss His smile, His voice, His presence. I walked with Him. I too love being in my car. I “hear” lots of info. :). Sherri who lives in CA has me following you. She said we would hit it off. Been a long time since I’ve had a good reading. I may be calling. The question that perplexes me is that I have no cognitive memory of my little brother I’m 29 months older than he until I am 7 years old. The only thing I can think of is that being the son of an Italian woman he was her prince and I fell by the wayside and blocked it all out because it was too painful for my young heart. Any who, thanks for listening and I am so enjoying your page. Drive on. Jan

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