According to the Lessons of Enlightenment, a firm and deeply held belief can influence events, even the weather! The following is a real life example:

About our marriage, an almost mystical thing occurred, which I shall share for the first time with our CAC family. Vikki wanted to have the marriage early in June. A month or so earlier we had driven to Centralia, 30 miles south to get our marriage license (neither of us wanted it published locally). So we planned for early June, but as it approached, Vikki happened to dig out the marriage license and noticed that It expired on May 26th. We were both too tight to drive down to Centralia again and pay to get it renewed, so the marriage date was set for May 26th to avoid this.

It must have been another El Nino Spring because it rained incessantly the entire month of May. We wanted to have the marriage happen outdoors in the Arboretum in Seattle, a huge beautiful park near the University District, festooned with many vaneties of old growth trees and flowers of every kind. Vikki and I often went there just to lie beneath the trees and soak in the vibes.

Glen Rallam, a close friend and a former associate of Ralph Duby was my best man. He had arranged to meet us at a New Age church close by run by a really nice lady, whose name I have forgotten, so on the 26th of May, in a driving rain we headed for Seattle.

In the car behind was my oldest son, Jon, and Frank and Cammy Locy, two friends that I had helped set up a "head shop" in Olympia, which carried a large selection of anti-war posters, etc. Vikki was incredibly lovely. She was wearing a white, handmade dress which she had fallen in love with at an old antique store in Yelm. She later told me she didn't think it was a dress, but a slip or undergarment worn by some pioneer women who had come here ages ago by wagon train. It was a see-through garment with lots of lace and Vikki was the "flower child" wearing it, with flowers in her hair.

As we neared Seattle, the drenching rain continued and the sky darkened even more and suddenly I noticed Vikki had slumped down and was crying. Before we had left Olympia, Vikki was really upset by the rain and the prospect of a ceremony in the pouring rain. I kissed her and said, "Don't worry about It. Trust me, the sun will be out." Then, like a damn fool, I added: "If not, it's a sign that we shouldn't get married. After all, I'm 22 years older than you and you know this will present problems later on in your life."

The sun was nowhere near coming out. In fact, there had been several weeks at least with no sunbreaks at all. I asked her what was the matter, "This is your wedding day and you are supposed to be joyous." She continued sobbing."Remember, you said It would be a sign," she cried.

I put my arm around her and pulled her to me as I drove. " I was joking," I said gently. "We're destined to get married. Stop crying, the sun will come out."

It didn't. We found the church, and as we parked, the rain suddenly stopped. We went inside to sign the marriage certificate and meet the minister. Glenn was there and they would follow us to the Arboretum. When we got back into the car, the rain resumed. It was noontime but the dark sky made it look like night. The drive was only about 15 minutes, but the rain was back in torrential amounts. I had the windshield wiper going full blast and it was still difficult to see ahead. Vikki had begun to cry again, and I had to reassure her, "The sun will be out for our wedding! Stop crying!"

And then the miracle happened. As we turned off the avenue into the Arboretum, the rain suddenly stopped. The sky opened up and the sun beamed down in front of us. The windshield wipers were still going and suddenly I could see very clearly. A half a mile later we spotted the grotto where our wedding was to take place. With the three cars parked, we all walked down a trail to a clearing surrounded by huge redwoods and riots of flowers glistening in the sunshine. Vikki was ecstatic and laughed so hard she started crying. The minister looked up at the sky and said, "Let's get this over with while the sun is still out." We did. As cameras flashed, I took my radiant flower child as my bride, and she took me for better or for worse as her husband, not "till death do us part," but "as long as we both shall love."

I was dressed in a bright yellow Nehru shirt and blue twill trousers. My hair was getting long but nothing like Vikki's long blonde hair which flowed down her back to her fanny. What was strange about the weather was that all around us in the distance we could see it was still raining and very dark, but this little glen was dry and the rays from the sun shone down on that little area like a spotlight. The ceremony took 20 minutes and after congratulations from the troupe, the sun suddenly started to disappear and we all got into our cars. As we left the park, heading toward the Space Needle to treat everyone to some fine dining, the rain reappeared. Within minutes it was again a torrent. It stopped once again as we walked around Seattle Center toward the Space Needle as Vikki handed out flowers to passersby. (She had picked a huge bouquet and had saved them for this purpose). "This Is my wedding day," she sang as she handed a flower to a startled British tourist, who asked if she could take a picture of a real American "hippie." And so it went.

And when we came out of the Space Needle and said goodbye to everyone, we started off for Canada for a 4-day Honeymoon. As we hit the freeway, the sky darkened and the deluge began again. It rained continuously for 3 more days, but we no longer cared about that. We were now a legal couple and very much in love, and we both somehow knew that there was plenty of work ahead for both of us, but at that time we did not know what it was.

Avaton.   Send e-mail to Avaton

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