The Wishing Stone

An excerpt from my upcoming memoir

A special friend reached out to me a couple of weeks before my travels east. He and I have known each other for years. We share the same spiritual sensibilities and optimistic glass-is-totally-full attitude and philosophy of life. He has watched and waited, sitting quietly with the patience and wisdom of Gandhi, always offering sage advice and encouragement as I worked to realize my dreams. He also told me that I could manifest anything I set my heart and intention to, so when I called to tell him that I had finally moved to Maui, my “somewhere over the rainbow,” he replied, without a trace of surprise, “Of course you did because you manifested it.”

We get together from time to time to walk the ocean path, to admire the incredible beauty surrounds us and inspires us and on Maui, and to catch up or, as he would say, “talk story.” Aside from being my spiritual guru of sorts, he is a gifted artisan, avid gardener and collector of artifacts. One morning, 10 days before I boarded my east-bound flight, we met to wish each another a wonderful summer. His purpose for our meeting, I learned, was to give me a wishing stone—a triangular turquoise stone worn and rubbed smooth over time that had been blessed by a native chief of stature and high regard. He had intended to set it into a piece of jewelry created especially for me but there was not enough time prior to my departure.


“Rub this stone, hold it and wish for what you really want,” my friend instructed, as he carefully handed it to me. He placed an affectionate hand on my shoulder and said, “Be careful. Remember, there are two sides to getting what you want. You have the capacity to get whatever you want ... few can do that ... you are different than most people.”

I held the stone and studied it, more preoccupied with its history and archeology than his message, but that night and all the next day, I could think of nothing else. What could I possibly wish for? I had everything my heart desired. I was finally living in the place I had long yearned to be. I was healthy. I had friends who embraced me like family. I had passions, career goals, aspirations and a strong sense of self, all of which gave me peace and joy. For the first time, I could almost feel the mother I cruelly lost so young whispering in my ear each evening as the trade winds caressed my back as I watched the sun set from the beach path. For the life of me, I couldn't come up with a single wish or understand why my friend would have given the stone to me now.

I placed the stone on my bedroom dresser beside a tiny silk travel pouch for the journey. I had a few last details to attend to before closing up my house for the next six weeks. With my many bags loaded into my car, I drove, roof down, to Kahului airport. As I stopped on South Kihei Road to drink in the beautiful Maui sky full of twinkling stars and shining planets, I reminded myself that I had not formulated a wish.

My first stop on this summer sojourn was Toronto, where I spent few days marked by warm embraces and kisses given with love from family and friends, and teary gut-wrenching goodbyes. On route to Italy, I had plenty of time on the plane between feeling jet-lagged, sleep-deprived and disoriented to revisit my nagging preoccupation with the wishing stone. But, try as I might, I was devoid of ideas. Finally, I pushed the blessed stone to the back corner of my carry-on suitcase and out of my mind.

In Rome, I was greeted by familiar faces and many old friends. It was as if no time at all had elapsed since my last visit eight months before. I joined a close friend for dinner on my third evening in Roma, a city we both adore and where we have often dined, walked and climbed the Spanish steps together. We ambled hand in hand, drank wine and talked for hours.

As we reminded each other of the hopes, dreams and goals we had discussed and set for ourselves a year ago, it suddenly hit me: I had already made my wish the year before, and now the stone’s intention was that I be open to receive it. I had wished that love would find me—a wish, I suddenly realized, that had come true multiple times during the year but not in a way I could accept. What I hadn’t understood until just that moment, is that a wish, as my dear Gandhi-like friend had told me, has two sides. 

The life lesson my intuitive old friend was teaching me was that it is not enough to wish for something—to wish for passionate, all-encompassing love, as I had. You have to be ready to receive it, by being open, by putting your fear and vulnerability aside, by opening your heart a crack and letting love seep in. The wishing stone was merely a symbol—with no magic, no special powers, no voodoo. Wishing may be about asking but it is just as much about receiving!