We were at a mall of factory outlet stores the other day. It was a sunny, early autumn-feeling kind of day. Many street vendors with small carts were there for the Labor Day weekend sales.
We came by one vendor selling singing bowls.
I was certain I was going to buy one of those bowls. There had been other times when we saw singing bowls. But the certainty was absolute that I was going home that day with one of those bowls.
In fact, one stood out immediately, a small golden one, like it was calling to me. I started playing it, and liked what I heard and what I felt.