The Secret’s Secret

The other day, while driving through the city, I pulled up to a set of lights behind a taxi. All at once I was struck with the unerring knowledge that it was about to pull into the turn right lane and block the intersection. As the seconds ticked by nothing happened, yet my gut feeling was as strong and clear as when you watch a Hollywood blockbuster and know from the opening scene that the male and female leads will end up in each other’s arms by the end, no matter how unlikely.

Just before the light turned green a woman dashed through the traffic and leapt into the backseat of the cab. You can guess what happened next; the right-turn indicator came on, he rolled forward so that half the taxi was in my lane, the other in the right turn lane, and he effectively blocked the road.

Was this a flash of latent psychic ability that, like all of us, I long ago learned to ignore or better yet, repress? No, methinks not. I think it was the secret at work. I must have sent the message out to the world that I wanted that taxi to block my way and the universe was obliged to grant my wish.

Naturally this begs the question… Why do I ask for traffic impediments and not publishing contracts? If I knew the answer to that there would be shelf space with my name on it at Borders and I wouldn’t be suffering Sunday-night-itis at the thought of going to work tomorrow. The power of the mind is truly an awesome thing, so shouldn’t I be working out how to turn this energy to work for me?

My task this week is to spend twenty minutes a day working on the power of positive thinking. Just knowing I didn’t have ringworm seemed to work a treat; it’s one week on since my last post and I’m now officially scab-free. So will I be able to think my way to a publication? Let’s see, one can only try…

Nat

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