The Law of Attraction works whether we want it to or not, whether we're paying attention or not. What you think about is what you are and what you are becoming, regardless of what you're wishing, hoping, praying and meditating for. What you think becomes your personal reality, the Universe is listening.
What have I been thinking about? I'll tell you, and it's not pretty. Five years ago we moved from a nice big 4-bedroom house in a suburb of Seattle, to a tiny, dark, hideously overpriced 2-bedroom apartment in Santa Monica.
Now there are a lot of really fantastic things about living here in Santa Monica! The schools are exceptional, the beaches are beautiful, the weather is a pleasant 72 degrees practically year round, there's so much to do and see, and frankly, I love the people here. In so many ways my prayers have been answered by moving here (though I did drag myself here kicking and screaming, not wanting to leave the comfort of my known misery in Washington for the unknown of California). The one big drawback in a paradise like this is, so many people want to live here space is at a premium. So we live in a tiny apartment and bless our good fortune of getting to be here, while at the same time cursing the toe stubbings and maneuvering it takes to live with six people in a thousand square feet of space.
We first moved to Santa Monica and jumped into an apartment, hoping to find a good house to live in from there. Five years later, we were still in that 2-bedroom apartment. I need to back up a little bit here and explain the biggest drawback of moving from a comfortably large house into a tiny apartment. It's the stuff.
When we moved, knowing we'd be in an apartment for a while, I donated a ton of stuff to charities, gave things away, threw things away and crammed as much as I could into a storage unit with the idea that it would all either come down to CA later, or we'd move back to WA. I didn't, however, move all the things from my husband's office, not sure what he would need, but confident that he understood our space situation.
He did not.
I drove the kids in the van down to California, the little red Saturn following behind with my husband and our three cats. We spent a glorious month living in a hotel on Venice beach, waiting for our furniture to show up so we could move into our apartment. We actually moved into our apartment a couple days before the furniture did, so I got a good sense of the space we had to work with.
Then disaster struck.
The truck arrived with all our things and guess what, my dearest husband had decided to bring to California EVERYTHING he owned that I hadn't all ready squirreled away to storage. His stuff alone would fill our apartment from floor to ceiling, then add to that my things and the kids things. We were stuck inside a mountain of junk.
I went through the stages of grief in my own crazy order. First denial. I could make this work, really, it's not as much stuff as it seems! Just have to get it out of the boxes, right? Then the depression set in as I realized that no matter how I would push and pull and maneuver it around it was NOT going to fit. My husband worked all day, long hours, while I was stuck to live in this dark cave. Then the anger! How could he?!! I could not live this way! We argued terribly, my husband saying we couldn't afford a storage unit, he didn't want to be parted from his special stuff. It finally came to a head, it was a storage unit or I was going to pack up the kids and head back to Washington. Didn't know how I was going to live, I just knew I couldn't live like this.
Finally my husband relented and we got that storage unit. It was small and it didn't solve the whole problem, but it certainly helped. We got a lot of thing out of the apartment and we could at least function and move around, but we were still living in piles of clutter. A few years of my simmering hate at the clutter and mess, we moved into another unit down the hall. This one was a much better layout and had more sunshine. We were also able to part with a more of our stuff. At last we had an apartment, that though cluttered, had a nice clear open living room. I was elated! We could move through this living room without stubbed toes and tumbling piles. Hooray for me!
Shortly after my happy party began, it ended. My husband, ever acquiring things, walks in the door one day with a giant gaming chair. He gives this chair to my eldest son. It sits in our living room like a 300-pound gorilla. I can't get rid of it now, it was a gift to my son. I fume, silently steaming until it feels as if my head is going to explode. I continue through the stages of grief and finally, after all those years, get to acceptance. I accept that I have no control over my environment, so why bother with it at all? I'll just ignore my environment as much as possible. Who cares if it's messy and cluttered? I GIVE UP!!!
The anger comes again and again. Every time I stub my toe, every time I have to twist sideways to walk through my once open and spacious living room.
I meditate, I define my dream home in minute detail, I imagine and visualize, write my affirmations down 10 times a day. All I want is SPACE. I want a bright, sunny, open space to live in, free of clutter and piles. Clean and glorious! I attached a lot of positive energy toward this wonder place. However, every time I open my eyes I'm faced with the reality of this clutter, this stuff, this horrid place that would be a paradise if not for all our things getting in the way.
Then came the day when the rent control was lifted from our building. While rents were going down all around us, our rent was going up. We had to move. We found a great place, an apartment that we had looked at when we first moved to Santa Monica, but it had been too expensive then. Now with rents going down, we could afford it. Off we moved to a bigger, brighter apartment with a significantly better layout. This wonderful new place has two pools, a jacuzzi and a gym. There are yummy restaurants right here and the grocery is just across the street. We have a Southern exposure and we're smack dab in front of the kids play structure. It's perfect. The best part of all about this place? There's enough space for all our stuff!
Enter the Law of Attraction. It would seem that all my immediate prayers had been answered, would it not? And indeed they were, because you see, even with all my affirmations, the bulk of my attention was on the boxes and the piles and the clutter that I hated. I put a lot of energy into hating all that clutter, certainly more than I put into defining my perfect home.
In the course of packing and moving I hurt my back. Two months later and here we are, still sitting in a maze of boxes and growing piles of clutter as things are pulled from boxes, but do not yet have homes. Oh, we have the space for everything all right, but my older boys are off traveling for summer vacation, my husband is working full time at a new job that's a commute away, and me... I've been stuck in bed with three herniated discs in my low back, while physical therapy and a mother's helper to watch the kids are sucking up all our cash.
The Law of Attraction works. It gives you exactly what you're thinking about, the thoughts that have your attention and your emotional energy. I got everything I was focused on, the good and the bad. Now to turn that around, to be mindful of my thoughts and feelings and use them for the good of all involved.
I am healing nicely. I am happy and grateful for my body's amazing power to heal. Yesterday I walked to the store with the kids (about a block), around the store shopping and then back home again with no pain at all. It was a huge victory for me. I believe I am healed, and now I need to start acting like it. Time to get this house in order, carefully, mindfully, and get what I really want. A nice, spacious, clean environment and a happy healthy family.
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