Shhh.

Well hello there,

I've been reading through recent facebook posts and trying to determine if those who habitually post positive thought messages-- of the dream it, see it, be it variety-- are actually getting any more done in their days than I am.  They post on facebook more than I do, and the more time I spend on facebook the less productive I am.  Really.  No joke.  But, maybe those affirmations get their engines going?  Maybe they're actually dreaming, seeing and being to fulfill their hearts' greatest desires?  Could it be so friggin' simple?  No way.

On the tail of a tale I shared with a new friend, about a humorous experience I'd had in a brief courtship with a local music store's rock band workshop, the new friend suggested that I imagine the appearance of perfectly compatible musicians, anticipate their cool roll into my life, and then wait patiently for their arrival.  I didn't question her or push for the specifics required to see the plan fulfilled; I just laughed.  She related a story of a woman she'd met who subscribed to the Oprah-advertised idea of "The Secret."  Since watching a video that discloses this secret, the woman no longer has any trouble finding parking.  Who knew that the solution to life's greatest mysteries would provide such advantage?  My friend was quick to include, "and when Sue can't find a parking space, she simply goes to another store."  Ah, the secret is revealed.  Its power thrives in the concession to its fallibility.

The secret, I think.

I looked up The Secret and read through the five pages of its eponymous book offered for free on its site.  The ancients knew this shit, I understand, from Plato and Socrates to Da Vinci to Einstein.  And now, a bunch of motivational speakers and life coaches peddle it.  I didn't get the impression that they do much else, unlike their illustrious, secret-keeping forebears.  As best I can tell, it's all about magnets.  Not ball bearings.  Magnets.

So, does it work?  Should I start laying out irresistible Reese's Pieces now to attract agents and book publishers or at least a couple of paying gigs to me?  Or is that not enough?  What if I combine it with witty bon mots on my facebook status update?  Maybe I should also surround myself with kitten art so I remember to hang in there.

I suppose there could be something to the idea of imagining great success, but really.  Isn't it all just a major distraction?  And if you can't imagine yourself crushed and mangled by the possible downside of wish fulfillment, then I think you were just raised in a more functional, power-endowing way.  And that, in the end, is probably the greatest secret, except, it really isn't one.  It's just fate.

But fate doesn't sell.