Stormy Weather, Sort Of

Yesterday and today it rained off and on. Brief but intense showers followed by sunshine. It reminded me a lot of my days on the island of Guam in the south Pacific, where this happened often, almost every day. A sudden overcast, a brief furious blast of water from the sky, followed almost immediately by sun and clear sky.

Yesterday I ran errands on my scooter and got all wet. Drenched. Today I did the same thing. I rode a long way across town to get groceries under increasingly darkening skys. While in the store it apparently rained - briefly. When I came out, it had stopped and I was able to ride home again without getting anything more than an occassional spatter.

Saturday I received the DVD of "The Secret" I had ordered. Very cool. Funny and cool and oh so true in the ways that are important. So I should admit that, before I left today to get groceries, I put an image in my mind: I would ride to the store and back and would return dry. Did it work? You bet it did. Okay, I know how silly that sounds, and you could be right. If I had held in idea in my mind: "Today I will not be attacked by a werewolf!", and if I had made it through the day without getting attacked by a werewolf, could I claim that I created that reality?

But I know on so many levels that it's true: we create our own reality with our thoughts. It was the rather sudden realization that this is really true, that it really works whether we mean it to or not, that we must learn to take responsibility and learn to focus and control our thoughts and feelings in order to bring into existance the best reality we can for ourselves and the world -- that was the moment I was inspired to create the Convergence Conspiracy Collective - a union of artists and musicians who were willing to at least entertain that notion, and to celebrate it loudly.

Mike Clark and Lizzie and Baba and I finished mud daubing the kitchen walls tonight. Tomorrow we sand and prime, and paint them a lovely basil-pesto green the day after that. It's fun working together on a project to improve our space, make the Holy Road House, the Tumbleweed Hotel, an even more inviting and livable space.

Truth is I found myself spacing out while doing the work, and wondering why. Then I realized I was replaying old, old programs instilled in me when I was very young. I dislike doing wall work because it takes me back to when my dad pushed me hard to do it, though I felt clumsy and inadequate at it and really wanted to be off hiking the woods or writing stories or playing with my mates. Childish reactions to my dad's efforts to discipline me into productive work. So feelings of sluggishness and mild guilt kept creeping up on me. It's unusual for me to feel that way about anything. I take the experience as part of a healing process - part of discovering and acknowledging those old scripts and reactions and replacing them, healing them, forgiving myself and my dad for my childish irresponsibilities.

My my. The lessons keep on keeping on. Learning every day. I love this life!