Real-Time Positivity Update

Kids, positive thinking works. Don’t ever let anyone tell you differently.

I just returned home from a dreaded visit to city hall. My previous visits to accomplish this errand having been unsuccessful, I went back today—my last before incurring a penalty larger than the actual fee for this particular city privilege—expecting the long, slow lines I’d encountered on my earlier, time-limited attempts. I’d planned ahead by putting on an extra layer of clothing, as I was sure to be standing, near motionless, outdoors in the sharp cold and wind visiting our region today (this being the tiniest of offices at which one might conduct city business). And as I headed out the door, my husband told me earnestly, “Good luck!”

In that micromoment, I made my mind right and said, with sincere gratitude, “Thank you.” Simple, everyday words, this phrase spoken with soul-felt thankfulness formed my attitude along the drive to city hall. No longer dreading the chore, I accepted what was to come, and the universe rewarded me in perhaps small but notable ways:

  • No traffic impeded me as I backed out of our driveway.
  • I had clear passage to turn left on a normally congested street with views blocked by parked cars.
  • I braked in time to avoid the intersectional battle of wills between a city bus driver and the individual at the wheel of a small sedan.
  • Rather than rushing to turn in ahead of cars that were headed in my direction, I paused to let them pass. At first thinking I’d missed my chance, I breathed, slowed, and watched as these cars passed by the full, and tiny, parking lot only to have a space open up before me near the doorway, as if by magic. Lest I ruin the spell, I looked carefully to make sure none of the folks who’d passed the spot were rushing backward to claim it. And I slid in.
  • No long, slow line snaking out the door and down the sidewalk. Not even a cluster of folks crammed just inside the door. Not at all. Instead, I was able to take my spot in line a few steps inside, with just a handful of people ahead of me.
  • Overhearing the instructions of a clerk attending to one of the other patrons, I readied my paperwork. When my turn came, I happily handed her just the items she needed. We communicated easily and collegially. I received my city-mandated item at a lower fee than I had expected (prorated for a partial year) and stepped aside for the next individual in line.

It had occurred to me while finishing up my transaction that I should play the lottery today. And then I promptly forgot. A key aspect of operating in a positive way under the law of attraction is to act on meaningful impulses quickly. I may have missed this particular chance, or perhaps this writing exercise, my recounting of the tale, recalibrated my vibration for wealth with a timely reminder.

I think I’ll just go act on that now. Cheers, friends! Think good thoughts for yourself and others, and share them here if you’re inclined.


Attracting Abundance: A Feng Shui Experiment

Inspired by a post at, I decided to embark on a test. It’s an experiment that spans the notions of the law of attraction, lucky feng shui directions, and unlimited abundance and wealth.

Written by The Spruce founder Rodika Tchi, the article discusses the use of the feng shui dragon symbol as a cure, or an adjustment to the energy balance in a space. Tchi notes (embedded links disabled):

As a popular feng shui cure, dragons come in many sizes and variations of color and materials. A green dragon, for example, is an excellent feng shui cure for the East – health feng shui bagua area – of your home, while a golden dragon can be a great feng shui cure for wealth and abundance.

Considering that my household has seemed abundance-challenged of late, I took my encounter with Tchi’s article as a nudge from the universe to work toward enhancing the prosperity energy in our home.

Thus far in my feng shui study and application, I have aimed to use or remove items already on hand to effect cures—repositioning furniture, eliminating clutter—and have generally limited my acquisition of new items to live plants, river rocks, and second-hand pieces. In particular, I’ve avoided bringing crystals and classic feng shui symbols into the home, such as foo dogs and the aforementioned dragons.

Then emerged onto my screen @MerriamWebster’s Twitter Halloween quiz—with a curved green dragon featured prominently.

The challenge to the universe that I didn’t even know I was seeking eventually became clear: (1) Attract a golden or green dragon to my space, (2) place the dragon in the prescribed area of my home depending on the dragon’s color, and (3) actualize the enhanced health or wealth abundance.

Because the law of attraction doesn’t abide by particular time frames, I can’t say when I’ll be reporting back on the results. In the meantime, my job is to feel intensely grateful for all that I have and to attract my dragon through meditation and feelings of happiness, joy, and being uplifted.

And with that, I wish you all good abundance and wealth and happiness. If you’re a student or master of feng shui, I’d love to hear from you about your experiences with making your world a better place.


As I was crafting this post in my head, I took the suggestion of my Pandora music app and selected my Thumbprint tracks. The app—or my high energy vibration? or the positive expectation?—started my listening session with two of my most welcome songs: “St. James Infirmary” and “Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans.” I felt gratitude and bliss. The odds aren’t poor that these two songs would come up in succession; still, the happenstance engages, and I may equate that to abundance.

On Days That Are Abundance-Challenged

At the risk of attracting more of what I do not want (i.e., financial deficit), I feel the need to work through an issue that I believe many of us encounter, especially when we’re first adjusting to the abundance concept: how to remain grateful when the abundance we manifest seems less than substantial.

To be honest, sometimes it seems that the level of financial abundance in our household has decreased, not increased, since I became aware of the law of attraction and the abundance mindset.

Despite my best (or so I think) efforts to edit my thoughts for negative phrasing, to smile at people when I’m out among humanity, to meditate on all the events and tidings and interactions for which I am grateful that day, and so on—and even considering that my husband is, without exception, responsive to the feng shui and positive-thinking adjustments I’ve introduced—we are encountering unexpected bills and otherwise seeing our finances fray and even unravel.

Is this a case of a situation needing to get worse before it gets better? Yes, and more than that. I certainly worsened our circumstances for a time by taking some of the basic law-of-attraction bromides literally. “Act as if you’ve received what you’re wanting” is one; another is to tell yourself you have plenty of money right now for what you need and want. The latter led me to smile to myself contentedly while I spent small amounts of money on several items without keeping track of my bank account. Only when I read another piece of sage advice—rather than tell yourself you can afford it without concern or awareness, ask yourself *how* you can afford it—did I recognize what my gut was already telling me, that I have to be accountable for my resources.

And those resources include my time and my attention. The law of attraction is not magic, although by some accounts, manifesting abundance seems like magic when it happens. Rather, it is foundational to a universe that is perpetually abundant, perhaps because that universe needs us to be productive. I need to work and to give.

I have not been nearly as productive as my ability and accountability afford.

Despite the issues, we have seen abundance manifested. Just today, after another hit to the finances, on a day when the rain was unrelenting and my son faced another walk in the damp and chill, our friend, a kind neighborhood mom, offered us a ride home. And once we were in the car, she surprised P with a cool toy for him to take home; she asked only that P appreciate it and enjoy it.

On a day when my abundance mindset is challenged, I see how wealth can come to us and am so grateful for the gift.

Abundance: An Early Definition

I first began to consider the concept of unlimited abundance in the spring, after reading Rhonda Byrne’s The Secret. As with any remarkable happenstance, it came to me like a just-in-time supply order: A copy of the book rested on the top shelf of a bookcase in the local indie juice shop, and there I was, staring right at it. When it was still there the next time I visited, a week later, I asked Helen, the juicemaker on duty, if I could borrow it—a bold move it was for me to ask.

A couple weeks later, I sat waiting on a bench outside of P’s school. It was then that I first appreciated the concept of nonfinancial abundance.

Considering I hadn’t yet perceived—I hesitate to say manifested—monetary abundance resulting from my study, I was being extra open, I suppose, to anything I can assign the abundance label to. On that day, I defined abundance as the glory of a sun-showered walk to the school grounds through the loveliest of neighborhoods clarified by taking a seat on a worn, slatted wood bench, looking up above the school’s gables and angles to an unreal, tree-frayed blue heaven.

I reveled, in my mind, in my head, in my heart, and in my soul. With soul lifting spine, I rose to meet my gift. The gift I recognized as abundance is the inimitable honor to, the satisfaction in having the wherewithal to, wait for my son’s class dismissal knowing I would be smiling and he would be gleeful.

On that day and others since, that opening up of senses transcended financial prosperity and was my abundance.

Everything I Need

We have one car. My husband drives it to his job in the suburbs. I walk my son to school.

The walk takes about 20 minutes, depending on how often we stop to exclaim about a squirrel, the wind, a leaf, the clouds, a neighbor’s new Halloween decoration (scared/not scared), an open sidewalk gate.

Sometimes, P decries the far walk. I have worried about his morale for school. I have felt lacking. I have schemed about how to buy a house closer to school, which house is the perfect and best: Can we play baseball in the backyard? Is it fenced in for the next dog we adopt? Is it not too big and not too small? Is it built on elevated ground? And so on. I have wished for the abundance to buy—asked the universe to provide—a reliable second car that I am delighted to drive each day.

As September has faded, so has the re-newness of walking to school for P. We touch our feet to concrete and to soil. We look up and remark on the blueness of the sky or the nearness of rain clouds or the sun in our eyes. We argue about or calmly discuss the benefits of wearing a jacket on a cool fall morning. We laugh, a lot. A real, whole lot. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed more, with such unmitigated joy and openness.

I have everything I need to walk P to school every day. We have umbrellas that work, well enough, for when it rains. We have jackets and coats and hats and mittens for when the wind is sharp or just chilled. We have boots that keep our feet warm and dry and that are not too inelegant or sloppy for comfort. We have able-bodied mobility to carry us to and from the school.

When I walk home by myself after dropping P off, I breathe. I am part of something, this school attendance process thing. I scan the beauty of our neighborhood: the spacious, groomed properties; the curved streets with parkways that move in stride and with mature trees aligned in satisfying grace; the varied house styles whose characters span many generations and social eras.

I think grateful thoughts for all I have, even when our bank accounts are dipping low, as I now cultivate abundance and know we have everything we need and more.

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