A corner turned, in two parts

Part 1

When Dr. Phil had guests who were engaging in some self-destructive behavior or other and in denial about it or saying it was impossible for them to change, he used to get right up in their face and ask what payoff they were getting from their behavior. "Wha-what?" they would say, all confronted, but he would insist, you wouldn't keep doing it if you weren't getting some payoff from it.

There's a positive thinking exercise common to many different self-help disciplines (Scientology, "The Secret", various strands of feminism and meditation) of imagining, vividly, the thing you want to happen. I have long thought that this was a very effective and powerful way to achieve your dreams, not because it sends out any "energy" into the "universe" or etc. spiritual explanation, but because it helps you recognize the thing you want when it comes along (or turns out to be standing right in front of you), and also because it helps you get through any blocks or nervousness that imagining yourself in that position brings up.

I have been trying to imagine someone wonderful coming into my life, and as it turns out that was a bad thing to imagine because it made me all obsessed about being single and way too preoccupied with boys, and when that happens I never get any philosophy done. But today I expanded this exercise. I was trying to imagine myself happy in Appleton. And I realized I was blocked in imagining it, and I think it was some sort of weird stage of grief, one of the end stages, but where you are almost afraid to feel happy because it seems disrespectful to your grief. I don't have a dead loved one to fear disrespect to, but I suppose I have an atmosphere of loss and exile, and today I noticed that when I tried to imagine a rich, happy, fulfilling, fun life here, I stopped myself and imagined myself sitting very still in my empty apartment, and that seemed more respectful to the past loss and the sadness of it. Well, that's dumb, isn't it? So...

Part 2

Tonight after work I:

- Stopped by City Park to play with my new video camera

- Stopped by the independent bookstore to ask about their Poetry Group, which as it turns out meets tomorrow, and it sounds like you don't have to read your own stuff, although you can. Will totally go there tomorrow evening.

- Was on my way to the Harmony Cafe to check it out as a venue for a new Philorum.

- But veered into the music shop on the corner instead, and picked up some music magazines that have gigs and things listed in them, and was then gazing at all the electric guitars. Harold, one of the shop guys, came up and started helping me, and we looked at a few electrics and then looked at the acoustics, and he asked what kind of things I play, and I said, "I don't...actually...play at all yet," and he expressed surprise, and said since I came in and picked up the magazines I fooled him, I looked like I knew what I was doing. Harold didn't seem like the slick salesman type, but he knew the right thing to say - if I already look like a veteran electric guitar player, what the heck is stopping me? By the time I left I had learned three chords, played two Fenders, a Gibson knock-off and something else called a LTD, and was committed 100% to going back, next paycheck, getting my mid-life crisis axe, and signing up for beginner lessons.

- After that, at the Harmony Cafe, I saw a lady I recognized from the monthly independent foreign films I've been going to, sponsored by the Multicultural Society. She pointed out the sign advertising the multicultural food fair this Saturday, and I totally want to attend, and this is enough notice that I can invite lots of people - all my multicultural friends in particular.

The box on one of the Fender starter kits (guitar, amp, headphones, who knows what else, all included), had a message printed on the side that said "Stop dreaming, Start playing!" Well, yes. I can do all these things. I imagine it, and then I just do it.