You have no doubt heard of Murphy’s Law, where anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. That was my thinking when I started to formulate this post. That those things you most want to avoid, of course, happens.
In my case, I am Murphy, my kids are Law.
Like the other night when I am getting the girls ready for their bath. The water is running and I am stripping Brennyn naked. Standing her beside the bathtub while I then help Kaya out of her clothes, I think “I hope Brennyn doesn’t decide to pee right now.” Which, of course, prompts her to do exactly that. A facecloth is nearest so I grab it to mob up the piddle. In one turn of the head, I reach for a spray cleaner in the cupboard, swivel back and there is Kaya, urine-soaked facecloth in hand, wiping her face of some toothpaste. With pee. I scream (for some reason squealing makes me move faster), tear the offending pee rag away while she sobs having no clue what just transpired. I do not traumatize her with the details but needless to say, we all get extra scrubbings that night.
Or pretty much every day of my life when I set down my coffee, milk, beer, or HOT tea, waaaay out of reach, yet somehow, in some bloody way, kids come with a liquid magnet and there is always, ALWAYS, a near miss if not a full catastrophic spillage.
Or the days when I do not just want a shower but NEED one, so I get Brennyn down for a nap, then ever so slowly, ever so quietly step into the shower. Then gingerly, oh ever so gently, I close the shower curtain so not a peep is made. Closed. Sigh. Step under water.
Only–CRASH BANG BOOM– a shampoo bottle, bubble bath and miscellaneous toys have come crashing into the tub. Must have been my sigh. DAMMIT! I hold my breath waiting. Just waiting. Until the tension eases. I am in the clear. Only wait, nope, oh yes, there it is. Screams from the bedroom.
Now, while I would like to believe this is Murphy’s Law, just some drunk Irish ludicrous joke, it suddenly happens that all of these unwanted philosophers, inventors and all-around great thinkers are popping into my head.
Yes Buddha, I know:
All that we are is the result of what we have thought.
Oh Carl Jung, so wise:
What you resist persists.
Okay, okay already Mr. Self-Help himself Wayne Dyer, I get it:
I will see it when I believe it.
Oh yes, I see Henry Ford:
Whether you think you can or can’t either way you are right.
Oh lordy, even Mr Albert Einstein himself is guiding my way:
Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions.
Oh no! Not you too Dr. Seuss:
You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You’re on your own.
And you know what you know. You are the guy who’ll decide where to go.
So it is that my brain has unwittingly begun understanding the Law of Attraction. Not just a book that was on Oprah and enjoyed a lovely 15 minutes of fame, but a philosophy, an energy that has been known through the ages by only the wisest of thinkers. Dude…
So I should clarify that I am only at the stage of understanding intellectually that I need only change my thoughts to create the life that I want. The exact, have-an-entire-20-minute-shower-uninterrupted, life that I want. The actual reality or process by which I make that happen still eludes me. No, I still have not quite grasped how I shift from “I hope you don’t pee on the floor” to
a) not even considering that as an option.
b) “I hope you climb your lil tushie right onto that big ol’ porcelain god and have yerself a pee” said with no sarcasm or skepticism WHATSOEVER.
c) “If you thus pee, that is cool, for I am all zen and buddha-y and wise. Mopping pee off floors and daughters faces does not phase that which is enlightened about natures excrement.”
I suppose you can sense my cynicism? Though the cynicism lies solely in the acknowledgment that I can know such a profound realization yet ignore it 95% of the time because, well, because it is easier. Or more aptly, lazier.
What I put my attention towards, I will receive. What I think, is. It is all so profound and deep. I can see that I am making baby steps towards getting it. Living it. But in baby steps. Baby steps bigger than the first supported foot shuffles but smaller than Brennyn’s lunge for beer cans.
I have graduated past the drunken Irish folklore of Murphy’s Law though. Not quite to philosopher but maybe an Irish poet? Like W.B Yeats who knew,
“Man can embody truth but he cannot know it.”
Too bad I’m backwards. I know truth but do not embody it. Still no resolution here. So maybe I have graduated instead to drunken Irish citizen who thinks they are a poet? Yes, that sounds about right.
Irish Drinking Toast
May your glass be ever full,
May the roof over your head be always strong,
And may you be in heaven
Half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
Like I said, baby steps.