One afternoon, after working a few hours on this issue of Alaska Wellness, I decided to take a break. Off my daughter and I went to the Grand Opening of the new Fred Meyer store in Wasilla. We bravely collected a few needed items to place in our cart, though quickly became overwhelmed by the crowds of people and sheer vastness of the store. Feeling a little like country mice visiting the city, we decided to head over to the gardening section to gather up some calming energy from the plants.

We were just strolling along, enjoying the colors and smells of the flowers, when suddenly I was stopped. There was no one in front of me, but still it seemed I couldn't – or shouldn't – move, that there was something important for me to see. Slowly and a bit eerily, as if of its own accord, my neck turned to the left. My eyes looked down and there, lo and behold, was a vibrant little plant, with bright orange and purple ornamental peppers boldly proclaiming its pepperness.

The plant spoke to me. Now, you can take this figuratively if you please or more literally if you are open to the idea of interspecies communication, but I heard the call of the pepper plant. It wanted to come home with me. "I have enough plants at home already," I began in protest, but the little pepper plant was persistent.

Usually not one to argue with the workings of the universe, I put the pepper plant in our cart. As my deeper connection with the plant began to fade, however, self-doubt popped up to consciousness. Did I really hear that? I asked myself. Maybe I should ask for some sort of sign. No sooner was the thought formed in my mind than I noticed a man standing not too far away. He smiled suddenly, rushed over and pointed inside our cart. "Look at that plant!" he exclaimed. "How did you find that?" Quite certain that it was the plant who did the finding, all I could do was shrug and shake my head, while the pepper plant flashed me the mental equivalent of a knowing grin.

"Do you believe that?" I asked my daughter as we made our way to the check out line. Being 5-1/2 years old, my daughter is something of a philosopher. She also quite matter of factly talks to dogs and dolls and plants and bugs. "Oh mom, that's cute," she said, and I wasn't sure if she meant the plant or how her mother was responding to the situation.

Who knows where or why or when any of us will encounter a situation in which we are called to open to a deeper place of listening and seeing – of being, not only within ourselves, but in relation to all life? How will we respond? This issue of Alaska Wellness offers a number of articles that look at realizing and making more conscious our intuitive connections to the world around us. No matter what we are doing, the opportunity to awaken exists in every moment. As street magician David Blaine puts it, "The signs are everywhere, always." Even at the Fred Meyer store in Wasilla.