It's been my experience that what I focus on tends to appear in my life.
I focused on attracting a certain type of man and married him. I focused on living in a particular type of neighborhood (that I wasn't even sure even existed at the time) and moved there (Peter's brother's family liked it enough to join us a couple of years later). I focused on my husband finding a certain type of vehicle in a particular price range, and we found it.
Well, here's the latest story:
For the past few years, I've had to pass a beautiful old house after picking up my daughters from an after-school program. The house was probably built in the mid-1800s, with weathered gray panels of narrow wood and thin-paned windows the owners illuminate at twilight with single candles. It's surrounded by an old rock wall.
Every time I passed it, I told the girls, "I wonder what it's like on the inside. I wonder what the people who own it are like."
Two weeks ago, Peter and the girls went out for a ride. I started my workout, and the phone rang. It was my brother-in-law calling to tell me that some woman called him to ask if he were the father of Margaret MacDonald. For some reason, this girl's mail keeps arriving at her house.
My brother-in-law told her he wasn't Margaret's father, but his brother was. He called me to tell us to pick up Maggie's mail at this woman's house. By the way, her name is completely different from ours, and there is absolutely no explanation for the mix-up in the addresses. We have different house numbers, for one thing, and our streets don't even start with the same letter.
I thanked my brother-in-law and called Peter on his cell. He said he'd pick up the mail (yay!), and I went back to my workout.
Peter came home.
"You know that old house you're always talking about?" he said.
"Yeah."
"We were in it. The lady who had Maggie's mail owns it. She just gave us a tour. It has a birthing room."
"Get out of here."
"I'm serious, and when I told her how much you like the place, she said she'll give you a tour, too."
He gave me the woman's phone number. I gave her a call. Turns out she's a documentarian who's looking for venues to show a recent project. Turns out I might be able to help her through a networking group I run.
I invited her to one of our meetings. She showed up (she's absolutely lovely). And now I'm going to take her up on that invitation to see her beautiful house.
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2 comments:
This story struck a chord with me...I was living in the first home I bought in my late 20's.It was a tiny house with a high front fence, and when I was about to open my front door one night, I was hit by an object..turns out it was a brief case that someone had thrown over my fence. I heard a car drive off then silence. This perplexed me...but I took the brief case inside and opened it..to discover the owners name and address inside..a house in a nearby street.
So..I returned the briefcase..still curious about why it was thrown over my fence..and by whom! As I walked in the front gate a very strange feeling of familiarity came over me..I felt as if I was returning home. The home was magnificent..run down..but beautiful. Dejavu big time..how could I not have noticed this house before?..I drove past it everyday and hadn't noticed it.
I rang the bell and a painter appeared..the house belonged to a prominent politician..who had his car broken into the night before and his briefcase stolen. The painter invited me in and showed me around and thanked me for returning the case and said he would tell the owner.I had a very strange feeling walking around that house. It was mine and I knew it..but thought it was some wish fulfilling fantasy.
I never heard from them again..until 7 years later the house came on the market. I was married by then and pregnant with my first child..the house was right out of our price range..but we went to the sale any way...and to cut a long story short..no one put a bid on that house..I still cant believe why..so we put in a low bid..all we could afford..and we got the house!!
On signing the contracts, I mentioned the briefcase to the owner..it had been 7 years earlier..he remembered and said that he had always felt bad about not being able to thank me..but he had a painter doing some work in the house at the time, who couldn't remember my name or where I lived.
But I knew that house was mine as soon as I walked in the front gate!!
Sian
your first para found a ready listener in me...I am also quite fussy in choosing the right clothe, right college and now right person to date....ok I have lot of years still to meet Mr. perfect!...I have finished my college and now working in the corporate world and earning cool money but I am lonely at the end of the day! ...
And Boy! what all I have done to meet that Mr. Perfect...tried Facebook, MySpace, Match.com but somehow in the end its always that I end up thinking that he is not good enough for me...Of late I have started using Bluepont - as I heard that its much better to help meet the Mr. Perfect...so lets see what it does...
I sometime hate myself to be so damn choosy...but i am like that since birth...I seek perfection ...what should I do?
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