We have sought shelter under the overhang at the Western Building Center. You take your comfort where you can find it. Curtains of rain fall in all directions. The sky over the pass to the east through the mountains, gathered there like a fortress, is opaque; there is no color lighter than midnight black. Storms were predicted, and this time Mr. Weather looks to be right. Should we dress out and head into it or hang as the brothers do. Will not hurt to give it a little time. Maybe the five minute thing will kick in and we’ll have change.
In yesterday’s notes, I talked of the use of strings, or cords, going to each foot, used to lift my dead legs at the last climb into Whitefish. I decided to continue this on the ride through town today, and a strange thing happened - to lift my feet, I have to lift my head. This, when repeated, causes a continuous nodding of my head - which to an observer, looks like a nod hello. So, as I went through town nodding, the people along our path started nodding back. Other people - who didn’t, perhaps, see me - perhaps, instead, saw them - even people in cars started nodding, too. There was a wave of nodding - like the waves at a football game, that commenced and spread, ultimately affecting everybody. It was an eye opener. Turns out, by me being inadvertently friendly, a resonance was set loose on the town and a wave of friendliness and responsiveness took over Whitefish. I could have passed through looking out a slot in a black plastic bubble to find out where the friendlies were and just passed by the non-nodders and been done with it. May never have known what a friendly bunch of people lives here if I hadn’t done my part. This seems like a good thing to know; a positive inadvertent consequence of being friendly. You change things. Everybody should learn this at age two. It’s not a question of finding it. It’s a question of helping make it happen. Things are not static or already formed, after all.