Creating What You Need
by Cynthia Sue Larson
September 3, 2000


I was cleaning out some dusty old boxes in my attic one day when I discovered a candle-making kit I'd received as a gift when I was a little girl. With a smile, I wiped off the top layer of dust, and carried it down the ladder to show this special treasure to my daughters and their friend.

With squeals of excitement and cries of

I replied,

I opened the box to see the large block of white wax standing proud, pristine, and tall in its place. The molds beckoned and tempted three girls to imagine a candle in the shape of an owl or a mushroom. The colored wax and wicking string had melted together in the heat of the attic, but could easily be separated from each other. When I opened the paint containers to see cracked, dry chips of color staring back at us, silence descended upon the room.

my older daughter asked, with her deep concern showing in the furrows on her forehead.

I replied... and promised myself that at the next available opportunity I'd get some new candle paints. A couple of days later, I set out to visit a craft shop just one hour before closing, and learned from their candle expert that not only did this shop not carry any candle paints, but also that candle paint was nearly impossible to come by.

explained the blonde middle-aged candle expert, gazing over her glasses to look me in the eye as she deftly cut a piece of fabric for another customer. I asked her if there might be some local shop that might carry candle paint, and she gave me look that seemed to say, "Not likely", but gave me the name of a nearby art store that I could try.

I checked the clock in my car and saw that I now had only 40 minutes in which to find the candle paint before all the stores closed for the day, I ran back to my car and drove promptly to the recommended art store.

At the art store, a sales woman slowly shook her head "No", when I asked if her store carried any candle paint. I asked if she knew of any such product, and she again shook her head and said, "No, I don't." I then decided to try a different approach, and asked,

The woman hesitated for a moment, before naming two craft shops nearby. I asked which of the two she thought was more likely to carry the candle paint, and it was obvious from her expression that she didn't think either store carried candle paint -- but she named one of the two stores anyway. I thanked her and hurried off, noting I now had only 20 minutes to drive to this shop before closing time.

I suddenly realized what a state of frenzy I was working myself into as I became increasingly worried about whether I'd be able to find the candle paint. This struck me as funny, and I took a deep breath to release the tension that had been building up inside me... and decided that this would be the perfect time to practice what I preach, and use reality shifting techniques to help me obtain the elusive candle paint.

I relaxed as I drove, recalling a sense of being blessed with love. I felt waves of love washing over me, and I recalled feelings of thankfulness for every special thing in my life and everyone I love. I focused my attention on these feelings of being completely and totally loved... and on letting go of all doubts, worries, and fears.

I knew, from personal experience, that when I am in this state of being, reality shifts in miraculous ways. I felt how much I love my daughters and their friend, and how much they longed to make candles with the candle paint. I felt their desire, and then released it... not holding it tightly at all, but blowing it softly to the wind like dandelion seeds in the breeze.

I was now at the last possible stop for the day, and I parked my car and entered the store. I asked where the candle paints were, and the cashiers directed me to the candle-making aisle, since they didn't know whether or not they had any candle paints. I kept my feelings of love, gratitude, and sense of divine adoration flowing through me as I walked... and was delighted to see...

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