Every positive thinking tome I read assures me the New Reality I want, already exists. My New Reality is to be a published author, making enough money to donate to a cause that has recently become dear to my heart. I am to state my New Reality as if it is here, now, in the present tense.
I just finished meditating. My recent mantra is, “Breathe and Believe.” Upon opening my eyes I realized how many things in my life existed long before I realized they did. The house I now live in, built in 1980’s, has been sitting here on its little patch of coarse Floridian grass since my children were in kindergarten. My sweet husband existed, walking around on the planet, hurtling toward my life long before I was aware of him.
My New Reality, published author earning lots of cold hard cash, is out there–floating in my future, real, concrete, as solid as the walls of this house. I simply have to breathe it, believe it, and take the steps necessary to attract it.
My current read, Laura Dey’s The Circle, includes a workbook. Today’s exercise was to become aware of patterns in my life that do not serve me in my New Reality. Each day I am to pick one pattern and replace it with a thought or action I consciously choose that supports my New Reality, Everything I do is conscious and empowering.
A habit I need to change: I waste too much time looking at internet grack. Checking if Kate Middleton is pregnant doesn’t support my New Reality. Further, I don’t need to see Stephen Colbert’s monologue every morning or make myself nuts looking at the daily political bombshells.
In writing, I pledged not to play around on the internet until after 5 p.m. I am, of course, allowed to write blog posts. Those support my New Reality. As I wrote these things in my Circle workbook, I found myself on the edge of a panic attack. I was mentally taken back to the day I finally quit smoking.
I was twenty-two years old. I had been smoking since I was sixteen. I smoked like I was being paid to do it. Chain smoking, over three packs a day. If I ran out of cigarettes I plundered the full ashtrays, finding butts that could be coaxed back to life for a moment or two.
I smoked while I put on my make-up. I smoked while driving. I smoked during meals. I simply could not imagine how to function in the world without a burning stick of tobacco between my lips.
That’s the feeling I have at the prospect of limiting my internet addiction. But this dependency doesn’t support my New Reality. I vow to replace the internet habit with a new ritual. Each time I’m tempted to click on Facebook, I will imagine a fresh idea for my blog. Or say a gratitude prayer. Or focus on the editor who is actually alive somewhere in this real world today. She is a living breathing reality. Sitting at a desk, doing whatever editors do all day. She is my friend. (yes, I’m to state these things as if they are here and now.)
(Eeeek! I just considered checking out youtube. No Alice. That is no longer your ritual. You can do this, Alice. Just breathe and believe.)