Monday, January 14, 2008

Un secret c'est une ride*


One of my bosses has a "The Secret" desk calendar. So each day we pass around a little page of Jedi wisdom and have brief, hopeful discussions about how it might work. And I do mean hopeful, for my bosses have that gleam in their eye, and I know it's reflected by my own bleary gleam. The pages tell us to feel grateful for the things we desire, as if we had already received them. I think I've conjured a couple of things, as a matter of fact- the other night, there was good traffic against all odds, and I found a piece of music for which I'd searched fruitlessly the day before. I also imagined myself being well rested and the next morning the alarm clock mysteriously didn't go off, causing me to be an hour late for work. I think that, in order to control the matrix, one should be VERY specific.

I also think that (for a spoiled bourgeois American) wanting a thing is at least as hard as getting a thing. Deciding what to want. Deciding to really want it. Because what about the beauty of chance and the things you bypass by making up your mind? Because of the beauty of the world as a spinning blue roulette platter. Because Fate is suppposed to love you first, and if you tell her what you want, it doesn't count as much?


*A secret is a wrinkle (or, if you have a secret, it will give you a wrinkle. Supposed French saying I read somewhere. A good one.)

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