One week

What a difference a week makes.

I have been reading a book about the laws of attraction. I find it fascinating. Although I’m not very good at describing it, the book is basically about consciously putting out good vibes / feelings as a way to attract them back. It makes sense to me. You feel good, good things keep happening. You feel bad, bad stuff keeps piling on. Do we attract it? I don’t know, but I’m game. I’ll give it a shot, I think. I read on. The author warns that after you start consciously attempting to put good feelings out, there will be trials that test your ability to sustain the good feelings even when bad things start happening. Sure, sure, trials-schmials I think, no problem.

Enter me. And Wednesday.

The week started out great. I had an out-of-the-blue phone call from a good friend who called just to tell me what a great person he thinks I am. Nice. I had lunch with my co-author who said he just wanted to honor my role in writing his book–he picked up the tab and the food was great. Thank you good vibes. I taught class that night and everything gelled–the students, the work, the lecture. All good. I began to think, “Maybe this stuff really works.” I have more good feelings.

Then something happens. I open my email early Wednesday morning to find that in my day job I have been verbally attacked by someone I have spent a lot of time and effort trying to help. I attempt to mollify the individual. It seems to make things worse. I have to run because later that morning, I have two back-to-back doctor’s appointments scheduled for my daughters. The first appointment reveals that a case of scoliosis that we had been “observing” has progressed rapidly in the eight months since our last appointment. When the x-ray is pulled up, my daughter and I both gasp. The change is obvious. It needs immediate treatment. That first appointment runs late and we have to dash across town to appointment number two, where daughter number one is found to have a damaged knee that needs x-rays and physical therapy. Every time I speak, people look at me as if I have two heads and am speaking in flaming tongues of fire. I feel like I am trudging through pea soup. I can’t get to the work and writing things that are piling up because I am so busy putting out my hair, which is on fire. My son needs his little league pictures and has to be on the field in five minutes, and oh, by the way, he says when we are halfway there, I need that form and a check. Form? Check? By late-night email I get a rejection for said co-authored book after there had been a great deal of interest from an agent I respect very much and had hoped to work with. (The rejection was very classy, I should say, and I appreciated receiving the truth, which allows me to move on.) I’m sure there were many more, smaller things, too, but really, does it matter? I seem to be absolutely following that book’s prediction that like attracts like.

Obviously, I need to turn this energy back around, and quick.