Law of Attraction Newbie Shares Success Story

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that I believe in and use the Law of Attraction.

So, I just loved reading about how Jeannette Maw's ex-husband used LoA to attract a beautiful dinner date (no problem here; he and Jeannette remain good friends). Click here to read the story.

You Meet All Kinds

If you've been with me for a while, you know I spend a fair amount of time in coffee houses.

There's a whole subculture of people (usually men) who inhabit them, tapping away at laptops. I've met some interesting people, including artists, writers, computer geeks, and students. The man I met today took the cake.

He's a marriage counselor and astrologer who wanted to get married. He'd been divorced and was determined to meet his perfect match. After a while, he went online and met a woman who lived in the area. During their conversation, he ran her astrology chart, and deduced that she was the woman for him.

"I'm going to marry you," he said during their first phone conversation, before he'd ever met her.

She agreed to meet him at a restaurant.

On his way in, he told the hostess, "I'm going to meet my future wife here, so please let her know where I'm sitting."

The woman showed up, they talked, and he proposed to her after an hour.

She actually said yes. He reports that they've been married for over a year, and they're very happy. I'd love to meet her and get her take on it.

I'm on the fence about astrology, so I'll save the lame joke about this being a marriage made in heaven. It's a great story, that's for sure. You may wonder how I-- a person who writes regularly about dating and marriage-- managed to extract it from a perfect stranger.

I didn't. I was setting up my laptop, and we made small talk. Then he told me how he met his wife.

The Law of Attraction strikes again.

Attraction Tips for the Physically Imperfect (Which Would Be All of Us)

Hello Terry,

I adore you! I have forwarded so many of your emails to some of my friends that they finally gave up and subscribed.

When I read your last email, I reaffirmed myself. Your quote from Rita Rudner was priceless but it reminded me of what I KNOW to be true. Men do have particular scents that appeal to them. In my past, when I would go out, I would wear men's fragrances. Some are more female friendly than others, but they would attract.

My present obstacle is I have a handicap, I walk with a limp. I am now realizing that I have spent far too many years making myself invisible. I am a really great person, but unfortunately I have far too many "brothers" for my taste now. Do you have any suggestions on overcoming myself and believing I can have a relationship?

Keep up the excellent work you do!

-Ready for Mr. Wonderful

Dear Ready:

Thank you so much for writing and for your very kind words.

It's really, really easy to believe that you're undesirable when you're short, or you feel fat, or your eyes cross when you take off your glasses, or you walk with a limp.

However, it's just not true. The fact is, many guys are less interested in so-called physical perfection than in having a passionate relationship with a woman who "gets" them.

The hard part is not convincing men that you're that woman. The hard part is convincing you you're that woman.

Self-confidence, healthy self-love, and self-respect are absolutely critical to attracting and keeping a good man. Beauty, a 27-inch waist, and perfectly functioning legs are not.

Once you develop the qualities you need, you will radiate them. Men will notice.

Here's how:

Use an affirmation. Please do not discount the effectiveness of affirmations. They work. Here's one I've found to be particularly effective:

"I deeply and completely love and accept myself."

Say it out loud when you're in the shower, cooking dinner, exercising, whatever. Say it at least 25 times a day. It may sound scary and weird, but if you're like most people you probably spend a lot of time putting yourself down. Why is that okay?

You Can Heal Your Life author, Louise Hay, recommends you go one further and look yourself in the mirror and say:

"I love and accept you exactly as you are."

(That should bring up some interesting stuff.)

In addition to using affirmations, use visualization to picture yourself in a fun, satisfying, happy, serious relationship. Bring in all your senses. For example, what would it feel like? Bring those emotions up and make them real. This may sound like hocus-pocus, but it works. Do it twice a day, preferably before you put your feet on the floor in the morning and before you drop off to sleep at night.

It takes discipline, but it pays off.

Then remind yourself what you have to offer a man. Write a list of your best qualities and stick it on your mirror.

In the meantime, be your own gorgeous boyfriend. Ask yourself: How would I like to be treated by the man of my dreams? Then treat yourself that way. Do the things you'd do with him. Go the places you'd go together.

After a while, men will pick up on your specialness, and they will act on it.

With regard to your "brothers," if you ever feel taken for granted, make yourself less available. Start saying, "I'm sorry, but I've already made plans." Make new friends (check previous posts here for tips), or just spend beautiful, quality time with yourself doing the things you love to do, reading the books you love to read, seeing the movies you want to see, and eating the food you love to eat.

Treat yourself as a treasure that's yet to be discovered, and you will be discovered.

Terry

The Law of Attraction Nets Me a Falafel

The Amazing V. and I set out for a neighboring town to India Raj for lunch. (All morning, I got a warm, happy feeling in my stomach whenever I remembered I'd soon be filling with vegetable vindaloo.)

We arrived at India Raj at 3:07, only to learn that they'd closed at 3 and wouldn't reopen until dinner. Dejected, we headed back for her minivan and stuffed the children back in. The warm feeling in my stomach was replaced with a cold loneliness.

"We could try that other Indian place in Newtown," V. suggested.

"Yeah, let's do that," I said, even though the food didn't taste as good as India Raj's. It also cost more.

"Let's go for pizza," shouted a little voice from the back.

But I wasn't in the mood for pizza, not Connecticut pizza, anyway.

Valerie drove on, and as we passed the beautiful old stone houses and lattice-balconied stores and the mossy ponds with the tree branches coming straight up out of them, I kept thinking, "Wow. I am just so lucky to live here. It is the most beautiful place on earth."

I said to the Amazing V., "You know, I really could go for falafel. I haven't had a falafel since I moved here four-and-a-half years ago."

"Yeah," she said. "But you can't get falafel in Connecticut, unless you count that dried-out thing we had in downtown Shelton."

She hung a left into the parking lot of the Newtown Indian place. The sign on the door revealed that it, like the other, was closed and would not reopen until dinner.

"What's with these people?" she asked.

And then we saw it: Across the street stood a little hole-in-the-wall Greek market.

"Check it out," I said. "Greek food! Do you think they have falafel?"

(Although the state of Connecticut is home to many Greek diners, I have yet to find one that serves falafel. But I was feeling lucky.)

"Let's try it," said V.

We popped out of the van and into the store. A strapping Greek man came toward us.

"Do you have falafel?" I asked him.

"Yes, I have falafel. How many you want?"

At this point, we rounded up the children and seated them at tables in the back.

"I have a funny story to tell you," I told the owner, as he brought out our orders. Then I told him of my desperation for a decent falafel since I moved here.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"New York."

"I used to live in New York when I came to this country. Where did you live?"

"Flushing."

"Where?"

"Near Northern Boulevard."

"Where?"

"172nd Street."

"I know it. I used to work at the Saravan Diner."

"Get out! It's impossible to get falafel in Connecticut, you know."

"Yeah," he said. "Everyone here wants hamburger, cheeseburger, fish fry."

Before I left, I ordered a gyro to go for Peter. When he and I were dating, we used to eat them at a Greek place in Flushing near his apartment.

Some people will insist that my falafel acquisition moments after uttering the words, "I could really go for falafel," is coincidence.

But the Amazing V. and I do not think so.

Law of Attraction and Aging

I love the following article by Jeannette Maw about how she uses her mind to stay young. It's the very subject I addressed in a post on my last birthday. (Click here to read that one.) Yeah, I know death is inevitable, but my goal is to put it off as long as possible.

"You're not getting any younger, you know."

Ahem.

These words probably make the top ten list of "How to Spoil Sunday With Your Girlfriend."

I said to Russ, "Look, these are words you should never say to ANY woman you want to sleep with, let alone the one who doesn't believe in aging."

"You don't believe in aging?" He said it more than asked it. Like he was confirming just how crazy his girlfriend was.

"Well, I'm trying NOT to. That's my point. Hearing it from you doesn't help. I want to escape that old mentality. I want to grow younger and get healthier and better looking every day."

"'Old mentality,'" he repeats. "Honey, aging is a fact." (As if I were an eight year old that he was breaking the news to about the Tooth Fairy.) "It's what happens. You can't stop it. You can't stop time."

Well, with any hope of a friendly romantic encounter shot to smithereens, I let him have it.

"All right, let's go over this again." And I ran him through the principles of deliberate creation a-frickin-gain. We get what we think about. There are no rules out there. There are no limitations. If we can imagine it, we can have it. There isn't any reason we should be aging, other than that the whole of society has bought into it, and I'm opting out.

"You're opting out of aging," he says, not even trying to mask the laughter in his voice.

"Yeah, I am. And I guarantee I'm not doing it so I can hang out with some decrepit old guy, so I would rethink my position on this, if I were you."

I tell him I'm not the only one thinking this. That others are on board with this same idea. LOTS of others. I don't know how many, but I know I'm not alone. I've been trained by one of them. (Ron Zeller, who is a stand for ageless living. His wife, who is known as Ninja Grandma. Not to mention all the yogis who are known for good health in the upper echelons of birthdays.)

And while I'm telling him that, I'm thinking of the enormous vibrational escrow of all those people all those years who desperately wanted good health and great looks in their later years. Oh yeah, I'm tapping into THAT party!

So, Russ agrees not to argue with my beliefs, and swears I will never again hear him say, "You're not getting any younger."

As he's making breakfast (making fun of my brown $4 cage-free eggs and rice milk), I find two emails in my in-box related to law of attraction and aging. Or anti-aging, I should say. Thank you, Universe, for backing me up!

I march out of the office with news of the two articles that were waiting for me this morning. "I am not alone," I repeat to him with conviction.

"That's nice, honey." He's clearly made peace with having a crazy girlfriend.

And I'm gearing up for making peace with having a 30 year old boyfriend in my last years of life. Maybe he could have an accent, too. Olive skin. Gorgeous smile. (We'll see who has the last laugh, Mr. Smart Guy.)

Just to nail this vibration down, I'm thinking about turning 27 this year. I've turned 27 a couple of times now, and have enjoyed it every time. It's a good year. I thought about earlier twenties, but they seemed a little shallow. 30's seemed a little heavier. So I'm going with carefree, optimistic, fabulously healthy and fit, got-my-whole-life-ahead-of-me 27.

I really really like my girlfriend's girlfriend who doesn't know how old she is (really, she doesn't know! She doesn't keep track!), and my former coach who would flat out lie (and feel great about it) when someone asked her age. I'm letting go of what it "means" to age as well. It doesn't mean anything; it's not who I am; and I just get better with every day that passes.

That's what I'm manifesting with the law of attraction. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. Because I know it's possible. And I pick it. Period.

Yes, it might feel like a stretch today, but as I spend more time with it, and more time with articles and people lined up with it, it'll become more and more mine. Watch me go!

How Not to Let a Good Day Go Bad

Slept in this morning and woke up happy as a lark. Read a bit of Henriette Anne Klauser's Write It Down, Make It Happen, which I found while cleaning out my basement last Saturday. It's one of my favorite books on the Law of Attraction, and it was high time I read something again on the subject. I've been attracting a bit of blah lately.

I got a call this morning from a good friend, who had a small wedding ceremony in April and is now planning a reception for friends and family. She sent invitations last week for "cocktails and hors d'oeuvres" at a yacht club.

She addressed the envelopes to include children, which was fine with me. But she's already gotten one call from a woman who gave her a hard time for using the word "cocktails" on a family invitation. "Are you sure I should be bringing my kids?" she wanted to know.

And this just put me in a bad mood: Because of course the woman understood that children were welcome, and that they would probably not be forced at knifepoint to consume barrels of Harvey Wallbangers. The point of her call was to make the bride feel as though she'd done something wrong.

I loathe women like this, women who live to belittle other females and to compete with them in the pettiest contests.

From then on, the day got a bit darker, and here I am at 12:51PM trying to shake it off. And I'd better, too, because we're expected at a party this evening, and I can't show up there in my current frame of mind.

A bad mood always results in crappy circumstances.

And it's true whether you want to attract a great guy, or a job where they show you the love instead of tossing you 2% raises, or just a good time at a party.

Which means I must strap on my headphones, hit the treadmill, and shake off this ennui. Then I'll do an exercise from Henriette's book.

Getting Lucky Again (More Law of Attraction at Play)

In my previous post, I discussed my reasons for joining Toastmasters. I mentioned that you won't necessarily meet the man of your dreams there, but you could make a friend or business contact who'll introduce you to him.

Interestingly, last week Ronnie Ann Ryan and I had a discussion about guys who make great boyfriends. We agreed that bookworms are tops; they're passionate, interesting, interested, and, based on our experience, pretty good guys (unless, of course, the books they read include titles like How to Build Bombs With Crap From Your Parents' Basement).

I've always been attracted to bookworms like Stephen Colbert, my husband, and Phil Lesh (anybody who quotes William Blake in his autobiography is definitely a bookworm).

Today I served as Toastmaster for the first time, which means I ran most of the meeting. Unfortunately, the member who'd been assigned to serve as Table Topics Master (the sadist responsible for singling out a poor sucker to talk off the top of his head about a specific subject) didn't show.

So I came up with today's topic off the top of my head. Inspired by the grand opening of a new independent bookstore (a delightful alternative to B&N, Waldenbooks, and Borders) in my neighborhood last week, I suggested we take turns telling the group about a book that changed us.

Midway through the first respondent's presentation about her life-altering experience with The Celestine Prophecy, two guys in their 20s we'd never seen before walked into the conference room.

Asked to introduce themselves, they seemed to be the kind of fellows Ronnie Ann and I talked about. One guy in particular screamed "bookworm" with his black-rimmed glasses (behind which hid a beautiful face). Once we got him talking about his favorite book, The Pilgrim's Progress, he confirmed bookworm status.

Neither one of them were wearing wedding rings, so maybe I can endorse Toastmasters as a place where you might meet the man of your dreams. As for me, if I were single and a couple of years younger, I'd have gone for the dude with the glasses.

How He Met the Woman He Is Going to Marry

Talk about the Law of Attraction.

For the past couple of days, I've been talking, thinking, and writing about online dating services like Match.com and Eharmony.

And then I got a call today from my insurance agent telling me that he'd received notice from my insurance company. They told him they planned to cancel my policy because I hadn't paid my premium, which was due June 8th (between accommodating houseguests during my father-in-law's funeral and shuttling children to end-of-year school activities, I forgot to write the check).

My insurance agent is my cousins' childhood friend, so I'm friendly with him. After we agreed that I would set up an automatic payment plan, he said, "I don't know whether the boys have told you, Terry, but I'm getting married."

"Get out!" I shrieked. "Congratulations."

(Just so you know, this guy is tall, well-employed, smart, good-looking, and funny. It's amazed me for years that nobody had ever snatched him up.)

"When's the big day?" I asked.

"We're going to elope," he said. "But she's Irish like me, so we plan a trip to Ireland early next year."

"Where did you meet?" I asked.

He paused.

"On Match.com, if you can believe it," he answered sheepishly. "You get to be my age (44), and you don't get to meet too many people otherwise."

"I know exactly what you mean," I said. Then I told him about my male friend who'd had success on Eharmony.

Now here's the best part of this guy's story:

"I'd been on Match for about a year," he continued. "And I met a lot of quality people, but nothing clicked. Then I met this woman, and I knew right away."

This guy's tenacity struck me. Honestly, if I'd endured a year's worth of lackluster dates, I'd probably drop Match.com. I'd give up. Dating the wrong people is exhausting. It's also expensive.

But not this guy. He knew what he wanted, and he held out for it. He found it. Hearing this thrilled me to no end. I just love it when people get what they're looking for.