I read The Secret. I still don’t know it.
I also read Wallace Wattles’ The Science of Getting Rich. And I’m a far cry from that.
They’re both the same book, only Wattles focused on money and wrote his version 94 years before Rhonda Byrne repackaged his ideas and made a fortune.
The genre is “New Thought.”
The premise of both books is that we create our own realities via the Law of Attraction. The law of attraction is as true and constant and impartial in our universe as the laws of physics or gravity, the authors write.
I read these books about four years ago.
My life has been infinitely shittier ever since. Which could mean a variety of things:
1. I’m doing it wrong.
2. My cosmic universal wiring is totally jacked.
3. They’re total bullshit.
Are bad things happening in your life?
Well, it’s your fault, moron!!! At least, that’s what Byrne wrote.
You caused that car accident!
You made your Aunt Gwendolyn die of cancer!
You’re the reason life sucks and there’s no money and insurance premiums are rising and the FDA is allowing all that shit into our food and the politicians are all on the take and people are getting raped and children are starving in Africa and those baby seals got clubbed!
“Your ability to think is unlimited, and so the things you can think into existence are unlimited,” Byrne wrote.
If you believe her, by tuning your mind to the proper “frequency,” you can think things into reality. You want a 1993 beige Mercury Topaz? Think about it really hard. Feel gratitude in your heart for it. And then The Secret Elves in deep space who probably aren’t even getting hazard pay build it for you, and—BAM!—you’ve just Secret-ed yourself a fancy “new” ’93 Topaz. Booya.
“You have the ability to choose what you want to experience,” Byrne wrote. “The Universe offers all things to all people through the law of attraction.”
Maybe I’m Doing it Wrong
This is totally possible. I do tons of things wrong!
Maybe I’m just bad at Secret-ing stuff. Maybe I need to practice harder. Maybe my mind isn’t on the correct “frequency.” Maybe I should stop trying to conjure up 20-year-old Ford Tempo knockoffs. But seriously, since reading those books, I’ve lost a job and my family.
Worst. Secret-er. Ever.
Did I lose my job because I attracted the layoff back in 2009?
Did I lose my wife because I feared losing her?
Did her dad die because she was afraid of losing her father?
Are we only in control of us, Rhonda Byrne? Can we make other people do things with our minds?
Do bad things happen to other people because we worry FOR them? Are all of my friends and family in mortal peril because of me? Can the space elves make things for other people?
Don’t sleep on the space elves.
They can make ANYTHING in their magical Universe toy-building shop.
You just have to know The Secret.
But I’m still not in on it.
My Cosmic Universe Wiring is Totally Jacked
Sometimes, electricians—amateur and professional—make mistakes. They put the red wire where the blue wire was supposed to be. The yellow wire and the green wire get crisscrossed. Shit happens.
Maybe, just maybe, my wiring into the Universe was not installed correctly.
Case in point: My personal life.
Fact #1 – I read The Secret.
Fact #2 – I read The Science of Getting Rich.
Fact #3 – I tried to incorporate many of the principles into my daily life. I have an open mind. I swear.
Fact #4 – I tried to visualize being wealthy and living happily ever after in a gorgeous home with my wife and son.
Fact #5 – My wife filed for divorce. My son is now gone half the time, and I have less money than ever.
They’re Total Bullshit
What if there are no space elves out in the Universe building the things we think up and sending it to us in magical rocket ships that materialize as new jobs, or lottery wins, or chicken pox, or AIDS?
What if the law of attraction is more of a metaphor?
A reminder that visualizing success and working for it and being positive and helping others and having faith and being a good person and displaying gratitude is simply a universal recipe for someone to whom good fortune tends to smile upon?
Isn’t that possible, Rhonda Byrne? Isn’t that possible, Wallace Wattles?
I don’t know.
I. DON’T. KNOW.
If I’m Secret-ing all these bad things into my life, I need to figure out how to stop.
If I’m getting royally screwed by the space elves because my wiring was installed by some disgruntled electrician from the Local #2749 Secret Universe Electrical Workers Guild, I’m going to be pissed. But more importantly, I need to figure out how to rewire it.
And if it’s all bullshit, then I’m just annoyed that Wattles wrote something revolutionary in 1910 only to have Byrne repackage it, make a fortune, and get a bunch of people’s hopes up about their futures, and then tell us we have no one to blame but ourselves when we get a galactic-sized dick in the ass.
You know what, though?
I think there’s a chance Byrne just wants to help people. I want to help people, too. I just whine a lot more than she does.
If I can just get the space elves to deliver me some Secret ass lube, I might be able to walk a little straighter.
Then, my friends, we can let the healing begin.