It was a dream of mine for a minute, I was nearing the end of my Master’s in Clinical Counseling, working in a Shop downtown where space was rented to vendors who sold whatever they gathered to sell. In older days it would be called a flea market, or a junk shop. I enjoyed it, reminded me of the years I spent working in my mama’s shop, The Treasure Chest, an antique and gift shop. Wonderful memory and time…

I dreamed of finishing my schooling and opening a shop in Downtown that rented front space to vendors, had an office in back for therapy sessions, and a space for coffee and refreshments that could double in evenings for group therapy… a place women could gather and we enjoy the interaction with others, find something that sparks joy to take home, and find help.

But alas, my dream passed, rents went up, and the vision of becoming a therapist was sidetracked when I could not find a placement for my internship. I still dream of it… It is the one regret that I have never been able to let go of.  “Retail Therapy” a good dream…