Copyright©2017byBobOlson.

Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproducedortransmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,mechanicalorelectronic,includingphotocopyingandrecording,orbyanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,digitalor

otherwise,withoutpermissioninwritingfromtheauthororpublisher(exceptbyareviewer,whomayquotebriefpassagesinareview).

PublishedbyBuildingBridgesPressFirstPrinting:May2017

PrintedintheUSA

CoverdesignbyMelissaOlson(concept)andBeSpokeBookCovers(design)

BuildingBridgesPress

TableofContents

TitlePageCopyrightDedicationChapter1:TheSearchChapter2:TheSacrificeChapter3:TheAwakeningChapter4:TheTruthChapter5:TheWake-UpCallChapter6:TheResurrectionChapter7:ThePastChapter8:TheDesperationChapter9:TheDreamChapter10:TheOpenDoorChapter11:TheHelpingHandChapter12:TheInspirationChapter13:TheUnforeseeableChapter14:TheSalesPitchChapter15:TheAdjustmentChapter16:TheWorkshopChapter17:TheMeditationChapter18:TheConfusionChapter19:TheReflectionChapter20:TheLimitationsChapter21:TheProgressChapter22:TheLeapChapter23:TheReciprocationChapter24:TheMightyFeminineChapter25:TheDoomChapter26:TheReleaseChapter27:TheParadigmShiftChapter28:TheRecognitionChapter29:TheThreatChapter30:TheHardLessonChapter31:TheAlternativesChapter32:TheMisconceptions

Chapter33:TheShotTakenAbouttheAuthorSharetheMagicKeeptheMagicGoingAlsobyBobOlsonOnlineCourses

Dedicatedtomyoneandonlylove,Melissa.

Hadshenotrebelledagainsthercurfewatagetwelve,Imightnothavemether.Hadshenotbeensosmartandpretty,Imightnothavefalleninlovesohardandsoyoung.Hadshenotbeensostrongandsupportive,Imightnothavesurvivedmychronicdepressioninmytwenties.Hadshenotencouragedmetobelieveinmyself,Imightnothavepersistedthroughthefinancialstrugglesofmythirties.Hadshenotbelievedinme,Imightnothavehadthecouragetopursuemy

dreamsinmyforties.Hadshenotworkedwithmesidebyside,Imightnothavebeenabletocreatesuchfulfillingworkinmylife.Hadshenotservedasan

exampleofwhatitmeanstobeloving,compassionate,andkind,ImightnotbethemanIhavebecometoday.Andfinally,ifMelissahadnottaughtmetolovemyself,ImightnothavetheloveinsideofmethatIhaveforothers.Forthisandsomuchmore,Iamtheluckiesthumanbeingalivebecauseofyou,mysweet

Melissa.Youareundeniablyandsoreliablytheloveofmylife.

ROBBY ROBINSON waited until his wife, Mary, left for the store. Hewatchedhishighschoolsweetheartget intohertwelve-year-oldstationwagon.The contrast between her natural beauty and the wagon’s rusty exterior waspainfultohim.“Shedeservessomuchmore,”hemurmuredtohimself.Fifteenyearsearlier,Maryhadshownupinhisneighborhoodvisitingafriend

who lived there.ThebarefootblondecaughtRobby’seyeandhewas smitten.She liked him, too, but never expected that the popular junior class presidentwouldbe interested inher.Afterall,hewas twoyearsolder thansheandhadplentyofgirlshisownagewholikedhim.Afterthatnight,heonlywantedonegirl.Heaskedheronadatebeforetheeveningwasover,andtheydatedfortenyearsbeforegettingmarried.AsMarydrovedownthestreet,Robbywonderedwherehe’dgonewrong.He

hadplannedonbeingamillionairebythirty,buthereitwastwoyearslaterandhishomecomingqueenwasdrivingajalopytothegrocerystorewiththelastoftheirmoney.Whenhercarturnedthecornerandwasoutofsight,heranupthestairstothe

secondfloorwheretheatticstairswerehiddeninthehallwayceiling.Hepulledthestringabovehimandthestairsunfoldedlikeanaccordiontowardthefloor,droppingdustandfrayedbitsofinsulationonhishead.Robbyclimbedtowardthe attic to have a look around. He knew his 180-pound frame would easilymake it through the ceiling hole, but he felt the steep climb in his legs from

spendingtoomuchtimesittingbehindhiscomputer.There’s got to be something up here of value I can pawn or sell, Robby

thoughtashehoistedhimselfthroughtheholeintotheswelteringearlysummerheat.Afterstandingupandshakingtheinsulationoutofhisthickblackhair,hewasoverwhelmedbyalltheboxes—lotsandlotsofboxes—andnotonewithalabelofthecontentsinside.Thisisgoingtotakeawhile,hedecided,andthenlookingathiswatchconcluded,I’vegotforty-fiveminutestoseewhatIcanfind.Wantingtoavoidtwohornetsflyingupbytheskylight,Robbystartedwitha

smallboxat theoppositeendof theattic.Hechose itbecause itwasn’tsealedshut.Hespreadopenthecardboardflapsandpeeredinside.Hisfacebrightened.Insidewasthescrimshawpocketknifehe’dgottenasagroomsmangiftatthe

weddingofhisbuddyKris.Next totheknifewasanoldwatchwithacrackedcrystalthathehadfoundatthebeach.Helikedit,anditkeptaccuratetime,buthecouldneveraffordtogetthecrystalfixed.BesidethatwasaMontblancpenthatmighthavesomevalueexceptheremembereditdidn’twork.Hehelditinhishandbutcouldn’trecallhowhehadacquiredit.Nonetheless,itwasthesameproblem:hecouldn’taffordtogetitworking.Youhavetohavemoneytomakemoney,hethought.IfIcouldgetthesetwo

itemsrepaired,I’dprobablydoublemymoneybysellingthem.Robby threw the Montblanc pen back into the box. “What good are ya?”

PushingasideaRedSoxbaseballcapthatwouldbetoosmallforhimnow,hesaw an old hockey puck signed by Wayne Gretzky. “Ah, yes! Now we’retalking.”RobbywasaBruinsfan,butheidolizedWayneGretzkyoftheLosAngeles

Kings.Hepulledthepuckoutandheldit,recallingthememoryofthenighthe’dgottenitnearlyseventeenyearsprior.His fatherhad takenhimtosee theGreatOne inLosAngeleswhenhewas

fifteen years old on their trip toCalifornia. Theywere sitting behind the goalwhen Gretzky’s shot hit the post, deflected over the safety glass, and Robbycaught it. He recalled how it hurt his hand in the catch, but he didn’t let onbecausehisfatherwassoproudofhim.Later,as theywere leaving thearena, theyspottedGretzkypeekingoutofa

doorwaybetweenthepizzaandpretzelstands,apparentlywaitingforsomeone.Robby’sdadnudgedhimtogoaskforanautograph,whichGretzkymighthaveignoredexceptthathesawRobbywaswearingaLosAngelesKingsshirtwithhisnumberonit:99.Gretzky waved Robby and his father over behind the door and signed the

puck.Robby’s dad took a picture of them togetherwithGretzkyholding it. ItwasoneofthefewtimesRobbyandhisfatherattendedaneventlikethis,and

consequently,itwasoneofhisfavoritechildhoodmemories.IguessI’llseewhatIcangetforit,Robbythoughtashewipedthesweatoff

hisforeheadwithhissleeve.It’scrazyhotuphere.Isthiswhatmylifehascometo,sweatingmybuttoffinanatticforafewextrabucks?Robbyscannedtheatticandsawanotherboxthatwasn’tsealedshut,abigger

one. It was located just under the hornets. He slowly moved toward the boxrealizingthehornetsweren’tpayingattention;theyjustwantedtogetoutside.“Idon’tblameyouguys.How’dyougetinhereinthefirstplace?”hesaid.He cautiously grabbed the skylight handle and cranked it counterclockwise.

The skylightwindow opened, and the hornets quickly escaped. Robby hastilyclosedtheskylighttightagain.“You’re welcome!” he yelled to the hornets that were now out of sight.

“Thanksfornotstingingme,”hemuttered.Robbygrabbedthebigboxthatwasontopofafilecabinetandplacediton

thefloor.Heimmediatelyspottedacigarboxofhisfather’sinside.Hepulledthecigar box out of the larger box and opened its lid to be greeted by the sweetaromaofcigars.Memoriesofhisfathersmokingcigarswhilecookingsteaksonthegrillsuddenlyconsumedhim.Heclosedhiseyesandheldthememorythereforafewseconds.Thenhereturnedfromthepastandcontinuedhissearch.Therewasonecigarstillintheboxthatcrumbledinhisfingerslikedrywheat

whenhepickeditup.Thetobaccoleavesstucktohissweatyfingers.Suddenlyhisattentionwasdrawntowhatlookedlikebluerosarybeads.“Cool!”Robbyslowlypickedupthebeads.“Whathappenedtoyourcross?”

Helookedaroundthecigarboxbutsawnocrucifixthatmighthavefallenofftherosary.Thishassomeweighttoit,hethought.Thesestonesmustbereal…andmay

bevaluable.IwonderifthesehavesentimentalvaluetoDad.Asheheld thebeads, a chill randownRobby’s spine.Heplaced thebeads

nexttothehockeypuckandthenexaminedtheothercontentsofthecigarbox.Hiseyewasdrawntoalittlefour-inch-by-three-inchbookletwiththetitleYourNewMalaManual.Heopenedthebookletoutofcuriosityandbeganreading.

This mala (pronouncedmah-lah) is the key to unlocking your everydesire. It has 108 beads andwas hand strung in India. If thismalafounditswaytoyou,youhavebeenblessedbygreatfortune.Onedoesnotchooseamala.Themalachoosesyou.Ifyoupurchasedthis inastore,themaladrewyourattentiontoit.Congratulations.Thismagicmalacanandwillchangeyourlifeifusedproperly.Thismanualwillteachyouhow.

Robbypickedupthebeadsandstaredattheminwonder.“So you’re not rosary beads,” he said aloud. “You’remala beads,whatever

thatmeans.Amagicmala, apparently.Youmust havebeenmydad’s.Maybethat’swhyhehasalwaysbeensosuccessful.”Robbychuckledtohimself.Robby wasn’t sure what to think about the mala, but he knew he didn’t

believeinmagic.Hewasatrueskeptic,andeveryonewhoknewhimwasawareof it. Itwaskindof his image ever since taking a journalismclass in college.“Believeinnothingthatdoesn’thaveevidencetosupportit,”hisprofessorhadtaught.Robbyrespectedthatphilosophy,sohe’dadopteditashisown.Heglancedathiswatchandsawthathe’dalreadyspentahalfhourlooking

around. He grabbed the hockey puck, mala beads, and booklet and climbeddownfromtheattic.Heneededtocooldownandchangehissweat-soakedshirtbeforeMary got home.He didn’twant her to knowwhat hewas up to.Eventhough she knew theywere threemonths late on the rent, he had assured hereverythingwasgoingtobeallright.Whentheygotmarriedhehadpromisedherthatshe’dneverhavetoworryaboutmoney.Yetnowshewasinbetweenjobs,his business was struggling, and Robby loathed the idea of not keeping hispromise.

MARY LEFT THE grocery store and drove down the street to JankowitzJewelers. She had never been inside because she could never afford to shopthere, but shehad alwayswonderedwhat itmust be like tobe around all thatgorgeous jewelry. Even though she was a simple girl with simple tastes anddidn’t yearn formany luxuries in life, she loved nice jewelry. She just didn’townmuchofit.Maryparkedhercarandturnedofftheengine,causingittobackfiresoloudly

that it sounded like a shotgun blast. Mary crouched down when passers-bylooked in her direction. She thenwaited a fewminutes out of embarrassmentbeforeshegotoutofherailingstationwagon.Enteringthejewelrystore,Maryfeltoutofplace.They’lltakeonelookatme

andknowIcan’taffordanythinginhere,sheassumed.AnolderwomanbehindthecountersatupfromherdeskandwalkedtowardMarywithafriendlysmile.“Howareyoutoday,dear?”askedthewoman,whosenametagreadEva.“I’mwell, thank you.This is a beautiful store.”Mary looked around at the

glasscountersfilledwithrings,bracelets,earrings,andwatchesplacedongrayvelvet.Shesawdiamonds,emeralds,rubies,sapphires,andotherbright-coloredgemstones she couldn’t identify. The stoneswere placed in white and yellowgold settings thatwere perfectly displayedunder lighting thatmade thewholestoresparkle.“Thankyou,”saidEva.“ThisisoneoftheoldestjewelrystoresinWorcester.

Infact,inthewholestateofMassachusetts.Mr.Jankowitzisathird-generationgoldsmith andgemologist.”She leanedon the counterwith a smile. “So, howmightwehelpyoutoday?”Marypulledasmall,worn,whitecardboardboxoutofherpurseandplacedit

onthecounter.Sheopenedittorevealanantiquegoldringwithrubiesoneithersideofagreatbigdiamond.“Itwasmymother’s,”shesaid.“She’snowpassed.”“I’msorryforyourloss,dear.”Maryshookherhead.“No,notnecessary.Iwastenyearsoldwhenshedied.

Thatwastwentyyearsago.”“Theringisextraordinary.Didyouwanttogetitappraised?”askedEva.“Well,Iwasactuallywonderingifyoumightbeinterestedinbuyingit.”“Letmegettheowner,Mr.Jankowitz.Hecanhelpyouwiththis.He’sinhis

workshop,soI’lljustbeamoment.”Thewomanwalkedthroughadoorthatledtoanareabehindtheretailspace

of the jewelrystore,andMaryfidgetednervouslywith thebox.Shepickeduptheringandkissedit.“Sorry,Mom,”shesaidquietlyasshebrushedatearfromhercheek.Sheheld the ring, thinkingaboutoneof the fewmemories shestillhadofhermother.Eight-year-oldMary had skinned her knee andwas crying, and hermother

inspected thebruise.Hermothercuppedherhandsgentlyover theknee.Marycould feel theheat fromhermother’shandshealingher.Theantiqueweddingringonhermother’slefthandseemedtotwinkleatMaryashermotherclosedher eyes and held that position. After a few moments of silence, her motheropened her eyes, kissed the injured knee, and said, “It’s going to be all right,littleangel.”The jewelry store owner arrived from the back room. “Hi, I’m Mr.

Jankowitz.”HeheldouthishandtoshakeMary’s.“I’mMary.Nicetomeetyou.”Sheshookhishand,noticingthat itwassoft

andmeatywith a loose grip.Her daddyhad always told her how important itwastohaveafirmgrip.“Bewaryofamanwithalimphandshake,”heusedtotellher.“So,Evasaidyou’reinterestedinsellingthisring.”“Yes,ifthepriceisright.”“Youdon’tseemtookeenonsellingit.”Maryshrunkalittle,wonderinghowheknew.“I saw the way you were looking at the ring when I came out. We have

women in herewho can’twait to get rid of theirwedding rings after a nastydivorce.Otherpeoplehavenoemotionalattachmenttothejewelrytheywishtosell.You,however,looklikeyou’regivingupsomethingimportanttoyou.Have

youconsideredpawningitinstead?”Marysquirmedandhercheeksturnedred.Sheviewedpawnshopsasbeinga

lastresortforpeoplewhowerefinanciallydesperate.“Ialreadytriedpawningit,tobehonest.Theydidn’toffermeenough.Iknowwhatit’sworth,soIdecidedsellingitwouldbebetter.”Mr. Jankowitz pickedupMary’smother’s ring and looked at it throughhis

jeweler’sloupe.Aminutelater,heputitdown.“Whatdoyouthinkit’sworth,Mary?”“I’dratheryoutoldme.You’retheexpert.”Maryrecalledhowherdaddy,a

carsalesmanhisentireadultlife,hadtaughthernevertobethefirsttonameapriceinanegotiation.“Icangiveyouninehundreddollarsforitrightnow,”Mr.Jankowitzsaid.“I know it’s worth twenty-seven hundred, at least,” repliedMary. She was

gratefulforthenegotiationskillsherdaddyhadtaughther.Mostpeoplewouldneverknowtotriplethestartingpricetheotherpartysuggested.“Itmaybeworththat,butIhavetoturnaprofit.Otherwisewhat’sthepoint?

YouhavetounderstandI’minbusinesstomakemoney.”Marypickeduptheringfromtheglasscaseandplaceditbackintheboxthat

she’dbroughtitin.Herdaddyhadtaughtheralwaystomakeagesturetoshowyou’rewillingtowalkaway.Sinceshe’dcometoMr.Jankowitztosellherring,boxing the ringwouldhelp todiminishanybeliefhemighthave that shewasdesperatetosell,eventhoughshereallywas.“Two thousand twohundred,” she said. “You’llmake fivehundred, andwe

bothknowthiswillsellquickly.”Mr. Jankowitz stared blankly while his mind was thinking. Then he said,

“Youneverknowifsomethingwillsellquickly,dear.Trustme,I’vemadethatmistake too many times in the last thirty years. I can go as high as fifteenhundredincashrightnow.”HelookedatEva.“Dowehavefifteenhundredinthecashregister?”Evaopened the cash register and lifted the inside drawer to count the large

billsunderit.“Yeswedo,Mr.Jankowitz.”“Twothousandonehundred,”saidMarywithaquivertohervoice.Sheknew

thatwashowmuchtheyneededtopaythreemonthsofbackrent.Herdaddyhadalso always taught her tomake an offer and then say nothing, so she bit hertongueeventhoughherimpulsewastokeeptalking.Mr.Jankowitz’sdemeanorquicklychanged.Hewanted the ring,andhe felt

thepressureMarywasputtingonhim.Hewasn’tusedtoskillednegotiators,andhedidn’tlikeit.Hewasnowstandingtallwithhisarmscrossedoverhispuffed-upchest,partlyoutoffrustrationandpartlytotrytointimidateMary.“I’llgive

youonethousandeighthundredandnotonepennymore,”hesaid,adding,“TheonlyreasonI’mwilling togo thathigh isbecauseIbelieveIhavesomeoneinmindwhomightbeinterestedinthis.That’smyfinaloffer.Youcaneithertakeitorleaveit.”Mary leaned on the counter to stop her hands from shaking. She couldn’t

believe she’d gotten this skilled businessman to increase his offer from ninehundred to eighteen hundred dollars. Her only hesitancy was that she reallyneededtwenty-onehundred.SheandRobbyhadnootherwayofearningtherestofthecashtheyneededunlessRobbygotanewclientorshefoundanewjob,whichwasunlikelytohappenbeforethenextmonth’srentwasdue.She was about to say yes when she looked down at her mother’s ring.

Thinkingabouthowitwas the lastmementoshehadofher, shebegan tocry.Shepickeduptheringandheldit,perhapsfor thefinal time,andwasfloodedwithemotion.Mr. Jankowitz looked over at Eva and shrugged his shoulders as if to say,

Whatisthisallabout?Eva, nowmisty-eyed herself,walked over toMr. Jankowitz andwhispered,

“It’stheringofhermother,whodiedwhenMarywasten.”Marywantedtotakethemoney,butnowordswouldcomeoutofhermouth

tofinalizethedeal.Everytimeshetried,shebegantosobandshake.“Listen, young lady,” beganMr. Jankowitz, “my offer stands for exactly a

week.Gohomeand thinkabout it. Ifyouwant tosell the ring,youhaveuntilTuesday.You’reagoodnegotiator;I’llgiveyouthat.ThetruthisI’mofferingyoumore than I should be offering.Nonetheless, I’ll give you aweek or thedeal’soff.”Maryputtheboxinherpurseandthankedthembothwhilealsoapologizing

for her crying and indecisiveness. She then rushed out of the store in a fit oftears.When the door closed, Eva shot Mr. Jankowitz a look of contempt. “You

couldn’thavebeenalittlemorecompassionate?Thepoorgirl’ssellingherdeadmother’sring,andyouhavetoplayhardballwithher?”Evasighedandstormedintothebackroom.

ROBBYDROPPEDbythesportsmemorabiliashopownedbyhisfriendMattMooney.HewantedtoaskMattwhathecouldgetforthehockeypucksignedbyWayneGretzky.Thestorewasfilledwithcustomers:aboylookingatbaseballcardscovered

in acrylic cases, awoman holding a football signed byDrewBledsoe, amanadmiringanaerialviewofFenwayPark.Mattstoodbehindthecounterwaitingfortheboylookingatbaseballcardsto

makeadecision.Hissix-foot-three,220-poundmuscularframeintimidatedmostwould-beshoplifters.Hehadn’tbeenmuchsmallerinhighschoolwhenheandRobbyhungout,whichwaswhyMattplayedfootball.Afterhighschool,hegotintoweight lifting.Now he had trouble finding shirtswith sleeves that fit hisarms.RobbycalledhimMr.Cleanbecauseheshavedhisblondheadtohidehisthinninghair,makinghimlooklikethecartoonguyfromtheProcter&Gamblecommercials.When the boy left, Matt introduced himself to the woman who had been

patientlywaiting and holding a football. “Hi, I’mMattMooney.”He held hishandout.Thewoman shookhishand. “RuthHorowitz,” she said. “Nice tomeetyou,

Matt. I’m thinkingaboutbuying this formynephew. It’shis twelfthbirthday,but,tobehonest,Idon’tevenknowifhefollowsfootball.”“Doyouknowwhatteamshemightwearonhisshirtsorbaseballcaps?”

Ruthsighed.“No.It’snotsomethingInotice.”Robby, standing behind her and overhearing their conversation, asked, “Do

youhaveanypicturesofhimonyourphone?”She pulled her phone out and began searching through the photographs.

“Here’sone.Canyoumakeouttheteamonhisteeshirt?”SheheldthephoneupsoRobbycouldseeit.Robbysmiled.“TheBostonBruins.”“Really?”shesaid,relieved.“Hewouldknow,”saidMatt.“It’shisfavoriteteam.”ShelookedatMatt.“DoyouhaveanyBruinsmemorabilia?”MattwalkedRuthovertothecornerofthestorewhereallhishockeyproducts

weredisplayed,andRuthbegancombingthroughtheBruinsmerchandise.“Pick a few inyourbudget and I’ll helpyouchoosewhat I think a twelve-

year-old is apt to like,”Matt toldher as hewalkedback to the counterwhereRobbywaited.“Hey,Dogbreath,”he said,puttinghis largearmaroundRobby’s shoulders.

“Thanksforthehelp.Ineverwouldhavethoughtofaskingforphotos.”HesawtheGretzky-signedpuckon thecounter. “Youdon’twant to sell this,doyou?Didn’tyoucatchitatagamewithyourdad?”Robbyscoffed.“Yeah,butthat’snobigdeal.It’sbeensittinginaboxinthe

attic,soIthoughtImightaswellgetsomecashforit.”“Sure,butthisisanicememory.YouusedtobeahugeGretzkyfan.Heeven

signeditwithawhitemarker.Youshouldkeepthisinyouroffice,man.”“It’sjustmoreclutter.Ialreadyhaveenoughclutterinmyoffice.”Itwasalllies.Robbyhatedsellingthatpuck,buthewasn’tgoingtoletonto

Mattthatheneededthemoney.Mattwasamega-successfulstoreowner.HenowhadstoresinNewHampshireandConnecticutinadditiontothisMassachusettslocation.Worse,hehadinvitedRobbytobehispartnerwhenheopenedthefirststore five years ago, but Robby had wanted to be a writer. It was tooembarrassing to let Matt know that he was broke when Matt’s business wasthriving.Afterlookingitupinabook,Matttoldhim,“Icangiveyoutwohundredand

fiftybucksforthepuck.Imightonlybreakevenonit,butI’lltrysellingitforthreehundredfifty.Imightgetluckyiftherightpersoncomesinhere.Butlet’sbehonest,it’snotlikeNewEnglandisthebestplacetosellaGretzkypuck.”“Isthatreallythebestyoucando?”“I just toldyou,dude. I’llprobablyonlybreakeven.”Mattstood in thought

foramoment.“Hey,didn’tyouhaveaphotoofGretzkyholdingthepuckafterhesignedit?”

Robbywas surprisedMatt remembered it. “Yeah, but I haveno ideawherethatwent.ThelastIrecall,itwasonawallinmyfather’soffice.”“Well,Dipstick, thatwould raise the value of this thing. It’s proof that the

GreatOne really signed it. Get that and I’ll give you three hundred and fiftybucks.”“Okay,I’llaskmyfatheraboutit.I’mofftovisithimnow.He’soveratSaint

Vincent’shospitalagain.”“Again? How’s he doing?” asked Matt. “Didn’t he have like half a lung

removedorsomething?”“Yeah,afewyearsago.He’sdoingokay.Hehaspneumoniaagainthough,for

athirdtime.Nothinghehasn’tbeatenbefore.”“TellhimIsaidhello,willya?”“Ofcourse.Talktoyoulater,Matt.”Robbystuffedthepuckinhispocketandleftforthehospital,whichwasonly

fifteenminutesaway.Duringthedrive,hehadanacheinhisstomach.Themorehethoughtaboutsellingthepuck,theworsehisstomachachegot.Still,hewastired of eating boxed macaroni and cheese, which was practically all he andMarycouldafford.Sellingitwastherightdecision.Heturnedontheradioandfoundatalkshowinordertodistracthimselffromhisthoughts.Minutes later, Robby walked through the doors to the hospital. He was

immediatelygreetedbythesmellofbleach,staleair,andbodyodor.Ihatethisplace, he thought. I hate the smell, the fluorescent lighting, the atmosphere ofsicknessanddeath.HowcanDadstandit?It’sreasonenoughtostayhealthy.He took the elevator to his father’s third-floorward.His father hadbeen in

and out of there so often that the nurses at the main desk greeted Robby byname.“Hi,Robby.Dave’swaitingforyou.”“Hi,Betsy.Hi,Sarah.Hi,Paula.Thanks.”RobbywalkedintoRoom305andsawhisfathersittingontheedgeofhisbed

looking out the window. He looked like an older James Dean. Robby hadn’tvisited in awhile. Itwas toodepressing forhim.His fatherused tobe suchafigure of strength to Robby.He had been charismatic and successful. He hadonceownedanadvertisingagencythatgavehimthefreedomtodowhateverhewanted,sohetaughtphilosophyatthelocalcollege.Hehadamaster’sdegreeinphilosophy.Nowtheagencywasgone,henolongertaughtatthecollege,andhelookedfrailandweakinhispajamas.Hishairwasdisheveledandgray,andhisskinwaspalefromnotseeingthesunintoolong.“Hey,Dad.Youmissit?”“Huh?”Davewasstartledoutofhisstupor.“Heythere,Robby.What’s that

yousaid?”“Inoticedyouwerelookingoutside.Youmissit?”“Ohyeah.I’mtryingtorememberwhatit’sliketobreathefreshair.”Robbywalkedovertothebed,andthetwomenembraced.“Where’sMarytoday?”Daveasked.“Shewas grocery shopping, so I decided to head overmyself. She doesn’t

evenknowI’mhere.”“Oh,okay.Sohow’swork,son?Whatareyouwritingthesedays?”“Nothingat themoment. I’minabitofadryspell,althoughIdohave two

prospective clientswho bothwant their autobiographieswritten. If I land justoneofthem,I’llbebusyforatleastsixmonths.OneofthemistheactorDaleDavenport.”“DaleDavenport,huh?Ilikedthatmoviehewasinwherehewentundercover

in themotorcyclegang.But I thoughtyouwere tiredofwritingotherpeople’sbooks.Yousaidyouwantedtowriteyourownbooks.”Robby lookeddown.“This iswhatpays thebills.At least itwaspaying the

bills.Maybe it’s the economyor something, but the clients just aren’t cominglike they did the first couple of years I was in this business. The same twoprospects have been thinking about hiring me for almost two months now.Meanwhile,mybillsaren’tgettingpaid.”“IwishIcouldhelpyouout,son.Butthesehospitalbillshavedamnednear

cleanedmeout.Istillcan’tbelieveIstoppedpayingmyhealthinsurance.Foraperiodthere,asyouknow,Ijustkindofleteverythingfallbythewayside.”“Icouldn’tacceptyourmoneyevenifyouhadittogive,Dad.I’moldenough

now that I shouldn’t needyou to paymybills forme. I just don’t understandwhytheclientsaren’tcomingliketheyusedto.”“Maybe it’sbecauseyourheart isn’t inghostwritinganymore.Ever thinkof

that?”“Youdon’t get it,Dad. It’s not easymaking a living as awriter, especially

writingfiction.”“You’reright.WhatdoIknowaboutthebookpublishingbusiness?Onething

I do know, though, is that some people make a damned good living writingfiction.SoI’dbecautiouswiththatlimitingbeliefyoukeepaffirming.”“I know. You’re right. We’re going to be fine. I shouldn’t have said

anything.”Robbylookedaroundtofindawaytochangethesubject.“Hey,doyouwantmetogetawheelchairandtakeyououttothecourtyard?It’sbeautifuloutside.”Daveagreedandbegantoputonarobethatwasdrapedacrossthebottomof

his bed. He had no sooner finished putting the robe over his pajamas when

Robbyarrivedbackwithawheelchairhehadfoundjustoutsidethedoor.Davewasanxioustogetoutsidethehospitalwalls.“Thatwasquick.It’snicetobeyoungandhealthy,huh?”Robby didn’t answer. He felt his father was responsible for his own poor

healthbecausehedidn’t takegoodcareofhimselfanymore.Robbyhelpedhisdadfromthebedtothewheelchair,andtheymadethetripdowntheelevatortotheoutsidecourtyard.Robbypushedthewheelchairnexttoaconcretebenchsohecouldsitnexttohisfather.Assoonastheyarrived,hisfatherflippedthefootpedalsofthewheelchairoutofthewayandlitupacigarettethathehadhiddeninhisrobepocket.Robbyrolledhiseyes;smokingwaswhyhisfatherhadneededlungsurgery

inthefirstplace.HisfathernoticedRobby’sgestureandliftedhiseyebrowsasheglaredathisson.“Son, a long time ago I chose quality over quantity. It’s one of the few

pleasuresIhaveinlifeanymore.JustallowmethiswithoutmakingmefeelbadeverytimeIlightup,okay?”Robbynodded,unabletolookathisfather.“Okay,Dad.I’msorry.”Therewasanawkwardsilence.“It’sniceouthere,huh,Dad?”The sunlightwasbeatingdownonDave.Heclosedhis eyes and turnedhis

facetowardthesun.“There’sreallynothingliketheearlysummersunonyourskin.”Therewasa longpausebeforeheadded,“Sowhat’sgoingon? I’mnotsureyou’veevervisitedme in themiddleof thedaybefore, andcertainlynotwithoutMary.Istheresomethingyouwanttotalkabout?”Robby looked at his father. “Am I that transparent?Actually, there are two

things.IwascleaningouttheattictodaywhenIcameacrossanoldcigarboxofyours.ImusthavepackeditwithmyownstuffaccidentallywhenImovedoutofyourhouse.Anyway,ithadthisinit.IthoughtI’ddropitoff.”Robbyhandedhisfatherthemalabeads.“Ohwow,wow,wow.Ihaven’tseentheseinyears.”Davestaredatthemala

withagrinasheslowlymovedeachofthebeadsbetweenthethumbandindexfingerofhis righthand.HestudiedeachbeadwhileRobbywatchedhimwithcuriosity.“I had no idea how important they were to you,” said Robby. “I’m glad I

broughtthem.Theycamewiththislittlebooklet.”Hepulledthebookletoutofhispocketandplaceditonhisfather’sleg.“Ohgood,youhavethat,too.Haveyoureadthemanual?”“Youmeanthistinybooklet?Ionlyreadthefirstparagraph.Itseemedkindof

newagey—youknow,woo-woo.”

“No, no, no. There’s nothing woo-woo about it. Practicing the mala is anancient spiritual ritual. It’s sacred in the Buddhist and Hindu religions, butnonreligiouspeoplelovemalabeads,too,fortheirbeauty,history,andfunction.Whatdoyouwanttoknowaboutthem?”“Idon’tknowthatIwant toknowanything.Iguessyoucould tellmewhat

kindofstonesthoseare.”“Thesebeadsaremadeoflapis,whichisalmostalwaysthisroyalbluecolor

withgoldflecks.Malabeadscanbemadeofmanydifferenttypesofstonesorothermaterials,likewood,seeds,orbone.Everypersonattractstheperfectstoneormaterialforwhatheneedsbecausemalabeadsholdanenergeticpropertythatstrengthens energy centers within the owner. Do you like the color andappearanceofthesemalabeads?”“I think the beads are gorgeous, especially because they’re this particular

shadeofblue.Ofcourse,I’vealwaysbeenattractedtoanythingblue.HencetheblueshirtI’mwearing,mybluepickup,andmybluesneakers.”Robbylaughed.“MarythinksIneedtoexpandmyrepertoiretoothercolors.”“Well then, the lapismala is perfect for you. I did a lot of researchon this

stone. The full name is lapis lazuli,whichmeans ‘blue stone.’Lapis in Latinmeans‘stone,’andlazulicomesfromthePersianwordlazhward,whichmeans‘blue.’ It symbolizeswisdom and truth. The ancient Egyptians considered thegoldflecksinthestonestarsintheeveningsky.Theywouldmeditateontheseflecks toengagemystical forces that theybelievedcould transform their lives.Still, inmany culturesworldwide, lapis is believed to stimulate our ability toacquireknowledge,truth,andunderstanding.It’stheperfectstoneforwriters,soI’mnotsurpriseditcameintoyourlife.”Dave handed themala back toRobby.Robby leaned away from his father,

refusingtotakeit.“No,Dad,it’syours.Youkeepit.Idon’tbelieveinthatkindofstuff.Youknowthat.”“Actually,Robby,it’syoursnow.Itfoundyou.Ifamalacomesintoyourlife

that’s not being used by someone else, it ismeant to be yours. That’s a veryspecialmala.Ithasmuchtoteachyou.”“Teach me?” Robby sneered. “How can a string of beads teach me

something?”“Don’tmockwhatyoudon’tunderstand,son.I’mserious.Takeit.”Realizinghisfathermeantit,Robbyheldouthishand.Hisfatherdroppedthe

malaintohispalm.“Irememberplacingthatinthecigarboxmanyyearsago,”hisfathersaid.“It

hadtaughtmeall ithadtoteachme,orsoI thoughtat thetime.IguessIwasyoungandarrogantonce,too.”

Robby ignored the comment. He was used to his father throwing littlewisecrackshisway,halfkiddingandhalfserious.“Themanualcalleditamagicmala.Youdon’tbelieveinmagic,doyou,Dad?”heasked.“Idon’tbelieveinmagic,”Davereplied.“Still,whatIlearnedfromthatmala

is without a doubt magical, although not in a hocus-pocus kind of way.EverythingthatmalataughtmeisaboutthenaturalwaysoftheUniverse.Yousee,Creative Intelligence, theSource, orwhateveryouwant to call thehigherpower, is in constant communication with us. And we’re in constantcommunicationwithit.”“It?Don’tyoumeanHim,Dad,asinGod?”“Isay‘it’becausethehigherpowerIbelieveinisn’tmaleorfemale,it’sboth.

In fact, thehigherpower I’vecome toknow ismoreanenergy thansomeoldguyinthesky.”“Doesthatmeanyoudon’tbelieveinGodanymore?”“Quitethecontrary.IbelieveinGodasmuchasanyone.Ijustrecognizethat

God isn’t separate fromus.By realizingGod iseverywhereandnot just someoldmaninthecloudswhoisseparatefromus,IrecognizeGodastheonenessoftheUniverse that connects everyone and everything. In thisway, it’s easier tounderstand God by thinking of it as energy. And since we all have so manylearned conceptions about aGod that is separate fromus, I prefer to callGod‘Creative Intelligence.’ For me, this more accurately describes God as ourCreator,whichisalsotheIntelligenceoftheUniverse.SometimesIjustrefertoitas‘theUniverse.’”Robby thought about it and nodded in agreement. “I like that. That makes

sensetome.”Davetookaslowdragonhiscigaretteandexhaledashecontinued.“Creative

Intelligence is the energy of love, wisdom, and creativity. Because you and Icome from this powerful creative force, we too are powerful creative beings.However, most people don’t know how to utilize their own creative abilities,whichiswhatthemalateaches.”AbutterflyflutteredoverDave’srobeandlandedontheleftsleeve,directly

betweenthetwomen.DaveandRobbypausedinaweoftheinsect’sgraceandbeauty.Aminutelater,afterithadflutteredaway,thefatherandsonlookedateachotherinamazement.“See, son? That’s the Universe’s way of getting our attention. It’s called

coincidence. This is one of the fourwaysCreative Intelligence communicateswithus.It’sattemptingtobringourfocusintothepresentmomenttoemphasizethatourconversationisimportant.”“Wow,Dad,you’refreakingmeouthere.I’veneverheardyoutalklikethis

before.Ididn’tknowyouweresoreligious.”“I’mnottalkingaboutreligion.I’mtalkingabouttheplacewherescienceand

spiritualitymeet.Somecallitmetaphysics.Othersevencallitbeingspiritualbutnotreligious.Whateveryouchoosetocallit,we’reallconnectedtoaninvisibleforceof infinitecreation,althoughonlya fewpeopleareawareof it andevenfewerknowhowitworks.”Robbywasnowwide-eyedandsittingupstraighton theconcretebench.At

that moment, a crow landed on a birdbath in front of them for about fifteenseconds.Thecrowcawedandthenflewaway.Robby turned tohis fatherwitha lookof surpriseandsaid,“Well, thatwas

weird.”Heshookhisheadfromsidetosideandthencontinued.“Imustadmit,you’ve made me curious. Is this knowledge how you accumulated all yourwealth,Dad?”Heblushedalittleafterhesaidit.Daveblewoutapuffofsmokeashelaughed.Hisshouldersdropped,hishead

cocked to the side, and he took in a deep breath of fresh air while trying todecidehowtoanswerthequestion.Thenhesaid,“Yes,Robby,themalataughtme how to use the creative force to attractwealth. There’s no question aboutthat.Yetittaughtmealotmorethanthat.“Themalaalsotaughtmehowtocreategoodrelationships,howtorecognize

theblessingsinmylife,howtomakethebestofmycircumstancesregardlessofwhat happens, and how to attain inner peace in a chaotic world. Money iswonderful,andouraccumulationofmoneyisafinewaytomonitoroursuccessatusingourownpowersofcreation,butmoneyismerelyoneoflife’sunlimitedgiftsthatwecanusethemalatoattain.”Robby’smindwasracing.“Whyhaven’tyoutoldmethisstuffbefore?”“Well,onereasonisthatyouneverasked.”“Ineverknewtoask.Ineverknewyouhadthisknowledge.”Davestaredatapinkrosegrowingnexttohiminthecourtyard.“That’shalf

theproblem.Wedon’tknowwhatwedon’tknow.”“Yeah, Iguess that’s it.Sowheredowebegin?Mymind is fillingupwith

questions.”DavelookedRobbystraightintheeyes.“I’lltellyouwhat.Youtakethatmala

home, read themanual, and follow the steps it gives you. After you’ve donewhatthemanualteaches,I’llansweranyquestionsyouhave.Deal?”“Okay,that’sadeal,”saidRobby.Dave took one last puff, then crushed the cigarette butt between his thick,

tobacco-stained fingers so it turned into tiny little bits of tobacco thatdisappearedashesprinkledthemintothedirtbelowhiswheelchair.Hetookthefilterandwhateverwhitepaperwas leftanddropped it intohiscigarettepack,

thenstuffedthepackintohisrobepocket.“Nowgetmeback inside,Robby.All this fresh airmight killme,” he said

withachuckle.Heputhisfeetonthepedalsandtappedthesideofthechairtosignalhewasready.“Takemetomycastle!”heorderedplayfully.Robby pushed him forward, and the glass doors opened automatically. As

they entered the hospital, Robby’s senses were once again filled with theinstitutionalodorsandlightinghesodespised.BackatRoom305,Daveslowlyandpainfullycrawledoffthewheelchairand

backintobedwithRobby’sassistance.Oncehisfatherwassettled,Robbypulledout the hockey puck from his jacket pocket. “Remember this, Dad?” RobbyhandedthepucktoDave.Dave’seyesbecamemistythemomenthesawit.HetookitfromRobbyand

held it in his hand, admiring it. “That brings backmemories. I’ll never forgetthatnight.Wehadfun,didn’twe?”“Wesuredid.Weatepizzabetweenperiodsandyougavemeasipofyour

beer.”Davelaughed.“That’sright.Irememberyoualmostchoked.”“Itwasn’tasgoodaseveryonemadeitseem.”DavehandedthepuckbacktoRobby.“IrememberyoutookapictureofmeandGretzkythatnight,”saidRobby.“I

thinkitusedtobeonthewallacrossfromyourdesk.Doyouknowwherethatisnow?”Dave was silent for a moment, staring into nowhere. Then he looked at

Robby.“Ithinkthat’sinaframeinthebasement,stillinfrontofmydesk.Youshould definitely get that and put it in your house. It’s good to have thingsaroundthatremindyouofgoodtimes.Youstillhaveakey,right?”“Yes,onmykeychain.”“Well, water the plants while you’re there, will you? I don’t think my

neighborgetstoitoftenenough.”Robbystoodupandputonhisjackettosignalhewasleaving.“Bytheway,

myfriendMattsayshello.”ThetwomenhuggedbeforeRobbyheadedtowardthedoor.“Matt,he’sthebigone.He’sanicekid.Ialwayslikedhim.Iusedtoruninto

himeverynowandthen.GuessIhaven’tbeengettingoutlikeIusedto.”“Well,he’sthirty-twonow,justlikeme.”Davelaughed.“You’llbothalwaysbekidstome.”Headded,“Makesureto

bringthatlovelywifeofyoursnexttime,okay?”“Okay,Dad.I’llseeyousoon,”Robbysaidasheleft theroom.Hecouldn’t

waittogetoutofthebuilding.

ROBBYHEADEDforthelibraryonhiswayhomefromthehospitaltoreadthebooklet entitledYourNewMalaManual.Hedidn’twantMary to seehimreadinganythingnewage.Shemightjumptoconclusionsandgetexcited.Maryhadtriedtohavespiritualdiscussionswithhiminthepast,andRobby

always shut her down. After a while she just stopped trying. He felt a bithypocriticalreadingaboutthemala,buthelikedhisfather’sdescriptionofitasaprocesswherescienceandspiritualitymeet.Hewasn’treadytoacceptanythingnewageorwoo-woo,buthefeltthathecouldatleastconsidersomethingcalledmetaphysics.SincehisfatherwasatSt.Vincent’sHospitalonVernonStreet,Robbyswung

over to theWorcesterLibrary onSalemStreet, onlyminutes away.He pulledinto the parking lot and looked under the seats of his pickup truck for somechange to put in the parking meter. He found a rollerball pen that was hisfavoritekind, thepostofficeboxkeyhethoughthehadlost,andfourquartersand a dime. Just enough for an hour of parking, he thought. That should beplentyoftimetoreadatinybooklet.Uponentering,thesmellofthelibrary,instarkcontrasttothatofthehospital,

wasawelcomearoma.Robbylovedthescentofoldbooks.Hetookaslow,deepbreath throughhisnostrilsand thenfoundaseatata table in theanthropologysectionwheretherewasn’tanotherpersoninsight.Hepulledoutthemanualandbeganreadingwherehe’dleftoffintheattic.

Traditionally,theproperwaytoholdamalaiswithyourrighthand.Beginning with the first bead, pull each bead toward you, one at atime,withyourthumbandindexfinger.

Checking that no onewas nearby, Robby pulled themala beads out of hispocket and tried following the instructions. It took a bit of effort andconcentration,buthesoongotthehangofmovingfrombeadtobeadusingjusthisthumbandindexfinger.Hecontinuedreading.

There are 108 beads plus one extra bead commonly known as the“guru”bead that indicates thebeginningandendpointof themala.Thesignificanceofthenumber108isthatthe1signifiestheCreatorandhigher truth, the 0 signifies emptiness or the spacebetweenourthoughts and breaths, and the 8 signifies infinity, timelessness, andeternity.

Beginbysettinganintentionforyourmalasession.Whatdoyouwishtocommunicate toyourhigherpower?Doyouwish tocommunicateanobjectoroutcomeyouwouldliketocreateorattractintoyourlife?

Herearesomeexamplesofintentionsyoumightset.

IwouldliketoattractmoremoneyintomylifeIwouldliketoattractafulfillingandprosperousnewjobIwouldliketocreatebetterhealthinmybodyIwouldliketocreatemoreharmonyandromancewithmyspouseIwouldliketoattractnewfriends,oranewloverIwouldliketofeelgreaterinnerpeaceIwouldliketofeelmorejoyIwouldliketoincreasemylevelofphysicalfitness

Therewas a tiny pencil on the table, like the ones golfers use, alongside asheetofblankpaperfromthecopymachine.Someonemusthaveleftthemlyingthere after copyingapage fromabook.Robby turned the sheetofpaperoverandusedthepenciltowritehisintentiononit.Hewrotethefirstexampleatthetop:“Iwouldliketoattractmoremoneyintomylife.”Hethenreadmoreofthemanual.

Turnthisintentionintoabriefmantra,usuallyonlyafewwordslong,

whichyouwillusetorepresentyourintention.

Hereareafewexamplesofmantrasyoumighttry.

IamtappedintoaninfinitesupplyofabundanceIenjoylovingrelationshipsinmylifeIamhealthyandfilledwithvitalityIlovelifeandlifelovesmeEveryday,ineveryway,I’mgettingfitterandfitterIamgratefulforalltheblessingsinmylifeIamfearlessIamdeservingofwealth,health,andhappiness

Under his intention, Robby wrote down one of the examples given, “I amdeservingofwealth,health,andhappiness,”buthewasn’tsatisfiedwith it.Hecrosseditoutandthenwrotehisownmantra:“Moneycomeseasilytome.”Helikedhismantra and thought, I’mgoodat this.Thenhe continued reading themanual.

TherearemanyBuddhistandHindumantras thatyoucanmemorizethathavebeenused for thousandsofyears.What’s important is thatyouunderstandtheirintentionsevenifyoudon’tknowthemeaningofeveryword.

The languageof Sanskrit is basedmoreon energy thanmeaning, soeachwordcarriesanenergyvibration.Therefore,eachwordgrowsinpower as it vibrates from your vocal cords, attracting to you afrequencymatchthatyouprojectoutwardlyasyouspeakit.Here’sapopularHinduabundancemantraintheSanskritlanguage.

OmShrimMahaLakshmiyeiSwaha.

Itispronounced:OmShreemmaah-hahlahk-shmee-yayswah-hah.

Om is how every mantra begins. Shrim is the seed sound forabundance.Mahameans“great,”andinthiscaseitmeans“alotofabundance.”Lakshmiisthegoddessofabundanceandreceiving.The“yei”isanactivatingsound,sochanting“Lakshmiyei”activatestheLakshmiwithinus.Andswahaislikemahabutsignifiesrespect,soitmeans“theGreatOne”inreferencetoLakshmi.

Ultimately the mantra means you are showing deep respect to thegoddessofabundance,Lakshmi, for thegreatquantityofabundanceshehassentyourway.

Robbywasamusedby the reference to theGreatOnesinceWayneGretzkyalsohadbeengiventhatname.That’saneatcoincidence,hethoughttohimself.“Gretzkyswaha,”hesaidoutloudwithachuckle.He liked the idea of using an ancient mantra for abundance. He thought it

might have a greater impact because of its powerful energy vibration. Itmustworkbecause it hasbeenaround for thousandsof years,Robby thought, thenpondered,Wouldpeoplekeepusingitifitwasn’teffective?Hedecidedhewouldusethismantrainsteadoftheonehehimselfcreatedtobeginhismalapractice.Helikedthewayitrolledoffhistongue.Althoughhestillfeltslightlyskeptical,hewasdesperateenoughtoopenhismindtonewpossibilities.

Nowsayyourmantraaloudwhilethinkingaboutitsintentionforeveryoneofthe108beadsofyourmala.Inthisway,youarerepeatingandcontemplating your intention 108 times, which will take youapproximatelytenminuteseachsession,giveortakeafewminutes.

ThisexerciseisapowerfulmethodforcommunicatingyourdesirestoCreative Intelligence. Few people take the time to do this. Imaginedoing this exercise twice daily. Imagine how much creative powertwenty-plus minutes of intention setting a day will accomplish. Fewpeopleknowhowlifechangingthisexerciseisbecausemostpeopledotheexactopposite.

Ashereadfurtherinthemanual,Robbysuddenlybecameawareofsomebodysitting directly across the table from him, a petite blond woman just a littleyoungerthanhe,andshewasstaringrightathim.Hecouldn’tignoretheenergyofhergaze,sohelookedupfromreadinghismalamanual.Thewoman’sentireface was smiling: her lips, her cheeks, her eyes, her nose, and even her earsseemed to beam with joy. She appeared to have no discomfort staring at astrangerandinterruptinghisreading.“I love mala beads,” she began with no formal introduction. She appeared

happyandvitalandspokeveryquickly.“I’vebeenusingmalabeadssinceIwaseight.”Robbyrealizedhismalawasinplainsight.It’s likehavingdogtreatsat the

park,hethought,amusinghimself.Shemusthavebeendrawntoitfromacross

theroom.“Ihaveseven.Myfirstoneismadeofredjasper.Mysecondone,whichwas

agift,istiger’seye.MythirdoneIsawatastoreandjusthadtohaveit.Thatoneiscitrine.Iwonmyfourthmala,whichhasjadebeads,inaraffle.Myfifthoneisaquamarine.Mysixthoneisamethyst.AndmyseventhoneIjustboughtyesterday.It’sclearquartz.EverytimeIgrowpersonallyandspiritually,Ifindmyselfacquiringanewmala.Iloveyours.It’slapis,right?”Robby was slightly resentful of the disturbance, but the young woman’s

enthusiasm was infectious. She seemed so happy that he had a mala that hedidn’twanttoruinitforher.“Umm, yes, lapis, I guess. It used to bemy father’s. I just found it in the

attic.”“Soit’syoursnow,”sheinterrupted.“Itadoptedyou.”“Yeah,that’sexactlywhatmyfathersaid.”“I’msorry.Ididn’tevenintroducemyself.Igotexcitedseeingyouwithyour

mala.MynameisTru.”“TruasinTrudy?”“No,TruasinTruth,”shesaid.Thensherambled,“Myparentsweresortof

hippies. They namedme Truth, but people callme Tru.My younger sister isnamedFreedom.WecallherFree.AndmyolderbrotherisnamedAlchemy.WejustcallhimAl.”Thelastabbreviationmadethembothlaugh.“That’skindofcool.I’mRobert,butpeoplecallmeRobby.”“Nicetomeetyou,Robby.Isthisyourfirstmala?”“Yeah.Ijustfounditthismorning,”hesaidshyly.“I’msoexcitedforyou.Mymalashavecompletelychangedmylife—forthe

better,ofcourse.They’vetaughtmethatI’malwaysguided.”“Guided?”“Sure,bymyspiritualguides.Oryoumightcallthemguardianangels.Ilike

totalkalot.Youprobablynoticed.”Shegiggled.“Sowhennobodyisaround,IknowIcantalktomyspiritguides—myguardianangels—whoIbelieveworkwithGod.Iknowtheyhearme.Mymalastaughtmethat.”“I’veneverbeen religious,” saidRobby.“Mymotherwas.Tellme,howdo

youknowyourguideshearyou?”Althoughhedidn’tbelieveinfancifulbeingslike angels and spirit guides, he was curious how she would answer. He hadoftenteasedhiswifeforholdingsimilarbeliefs.“Becausetheyanswerme,silly!Iaskforguidance,andtheyalwaysgiveitto

me—usually through my intuition. There are other ways, but my intuition isprettystrong.ItgotalotstrongerafterIbeganworkingwithamala.”Tru continued talking even though Robby didn’t respond. He really didn’t

haveanopportunitytospeak.“Youdon’thavetotalkoutloudlikeIdoforyourguidestorespond.Ionly

talkoutloudtomyguideswhenI’malone.Still,everyoneistalkingwiththeirspiritualguidesallthetimewithjusttheirthoughts,whichiswhyweallhavetobesupercarefulaboutwhatwethink.DidyouknoweverythoughtsendsoutasignalthatGodrespondstoinkind?”“I’mnotsureIunderstand,”admittedRobby.“We’re sort of likemagnets that attractwhateverwe think about.So if you

think happy thoughts, you’ll attract happy people and circumstances into yourlife. If you think unhappy thoughts, you’ll attract unhappy people andcircumstancesintoyourlife.”Robbyreflectedthathisfatheroftensaidthingslikethis—aboutattraction—

buthehadneverpaidattention.Maybetherewassomethingtoit.Heconsideredtheideaofthemindbeingamagneticbeaconattractingwhateveritwasthinkingabout.Ifthatwas,infact,thecase,hewouldneedtobemorecareful.“Isthattrue,Tru?”Robbyrealizedhe’dsaid“true-Tru”andfounditamusing.

Trudidn’tseemtonotice.Shewasprobablyusedtoit.“Uh-huh,totally.Mostpeoplecomplainabouttheirtroublesortalktoothers

aboutwhatworriesthemmostofthetime,whichcommunicatestoGodthatthisis what they wish to expand upon in their lives. Anything we focus uponexpands.Soit’sbesttofocusonwhatwewantratherthanwhatwedon’twantinourlives.”“Whatwefocusuponexpands?”“It suredoes.Somepeople thinkaboutwhat theywantbut then follow that

thoughtupwithanopposingthoughtthattheyareundeservingofitornotluckyenoughtohaveit.”“Idothatsometimes,”Robbyadmitted.“Ortheyexpressthoughtsofdisbeliefthattheyarecapableofattractingsuch

outcomes into their lives. If we communicate what we want, but then spendequal time communicating why we won’t get it, the negative communicationcancelsoutthepositiveone.Thisiswhythepowerofyourbeliefplayssuchabigroleinattraction.”Robbywasn’tsurewhattothinkofthisfast-talkingyoungwomanexploding

withenthusiasm,buteverythingshesaidstronglyresonatedwithhim.Heknewthathewasthetypeofpersonwhoheldthoughtsofworryandfearinhismindmorethanpositivethoughtsofhopeandoptimism,especiallylately.Becausehislifewasn’tgoingsogreat,hehadbeenworryingalotmoreinthelastmonthortwo.He also knew he was the kind of person who would follow up a positive

thoughtwith something negative likeThat never happens tome or I’m neverluckylikethat.Hewasamazedhowmuchthisstrangerwasspeakingdirectlytohimasifshecouldseeinsideofhim.Heremainedsilentandkeptlistening.TrupickedupRobby’smalaandlookedatitwhileshetalked.“Themalaisan

awesome tool for teachingushow to thinkmoreconsciously. It givesyou theopportunitytorepeatyourdesiresfordivinecreation108timeswithoutallowingspace or time for opposing thoughts.By repeating yourmantra over and overagain,thereisnotimeorspaceinyourmindforanythingotherthanthoughtsofyourdesiredintention.Andifyoudothistwiceaday—morningandnight—youhavejustdoubledthepowerthatthemalagrantsyou.It’sagreatwaytobeginandendyourday.”TruhandedthelapismalabacktoRobby,andhestaredatitwithamazement

asshecontinued.“TheUniversedoesnotknowthedifferencebetweenpositiveandnegative,goodorbad.Itonlyknowshowtorespondtotheenergyfrequencythatyousend it.Your thoughtsareenergy thatvibrateataspecific frequency;every thoughtholdsadifferent frequency.Andwhenyouspeakyour thoughtsoutloud,thesoundofyourvoicegivesitmorepowerenergetically.”RobbythoughtaboutthesoundofTru’svoiceasshekepttalking.Therewas

somethingunusualaboutit.Itwaslikeithadamusicaltonetoit,almostlikethesoundofwindchimestouching.“God sendsyou a frequencymatch towhateveryouhave requested inyour

thoughts,” she said. “Think of wealth, and God delivers wealth. Think offinancialstruggle,andGoddeliversfinancialstruggle.Thinkofhealth,love,joy,illness,loneliness,orsadness,andthatisexactlywhatwillbedeliveredtoyou.”Robbyremembereda timewhenhewasangryaboutsomethingaclienthad

said on the telephone and then he’d driven to the store immediately after theupsettingphonecall.Onthattriptothestore,hewaspulledoverbythepoliceforfailuretousehisturnsignal,hewascutoffbyanotherdriverwhostolehisintendedparkingspot,andheendedupwithanastycashierwhogotimpatientwithhimwhenheusedcoinstopayforthemilk.Andthatwasn’ttheonlytimenegative events had piled up on him. He had recognized years ago that badthings tended to occurwhenever hewas in a lousymood.Now this sprightlywomanwasexplainingwhythathappened.Truwasburstingwithenergy.Shewaskneelingonthechairandtalkingwith

herhands.“Wanttoknowalife-changingsecret?”sheaskedRobby.“Sure.”“Notmanypeopleknowthisone. If thereareaspectsofyour life thatbring

youhappinessandpleasure, thensendGod thesignal thatyouaregrateful forthem.Gratitude is one of themost powerful frequencies in theUniverse. The

bestwaytodothisistocreateamantraofgratitudetousewithyourmala,”shesaid.TrugrabbedRobby’spencilandpaperon the tableandbeganwritingon it.

“Here’s a powerfulmantra you can use. I created it formyself.” Shewrote itdown as she said it aloud: “Thank you for the blessings.” She looked up atRobby to make sure he was paying attention. “When you say it, think of ablessing inyour life forwhichyou feelgrateful. I’llgiveyou someexamples.Saythankyoufortheblessingsandthinkofyourhealth.Saythankyoufortheblessingsandthinkofyourfamily.Saythankyoufortheblessingsandthinkofyourhome.Saythankyoufortheblessingsandthinkofyourfriends.Saythankyoufortheblessingsandthinkofyourwritingtalent.”“Wait!”Robbystoppedher.“How’dyouknowIhaveatalentforwriting?”“Justahunch.LikeIsaid,myintuitionisreallystrong.Plus,lapisisoftenthe

stoneofwritersor lawyers,andyoudon’tseemlikea lawyer.”Shesnortedasshelaughed.Robby’smindwasblownawaybyTru’sabilitytoknowhewasawriter,but

hersnortmadehimlaugh,anddistractedhimfromthinkingtoodeeplyaboutit.“So while practicing your mala with the gratitude mantra,” said Tru, her

wholebodysquirmingfromherpassion,“youwillthinkof108blessingsinyourlife.Andbydoingthisexercise,youarecommunicatingtoGod—throughyourspiritual guides, if you prefer—that you want more of these things. It’s likesaying, ‘This iswhat I like inmy life,God.Pleasekeep it coming.’AndGodwilldelivermoreofeveryblessingthatmakesyoufeelgrateful.”Robby couldn’t deny it. This was all making perfect sense to him. It was

almost scientific, like his father had said: “It’s not about luck or what youdeserve; it’s about sending out an energetic frequency, which the Universerespondsto inkind.”TheidearemindedRobbyoffishing.Youwouldn’tuseasaltwater lure when fishing for a freshwater fish, he thought to himself.Likewise,youshouldn’tcomplainaboutyourlifealldayandexpectgoodthingstocomeyourway.Robby totally understood what Tru had explained about gratitude, too. He

knewthatwhenpeoplethankedhimforakinddeedhehaddoneforthem,theirgratitudemadehimwanttodomoreforthem.Hehadalwaysthoughtthatitwasinteresting how people’s gratitude toward him made him want to give themmore.Sowhywouldn’tGodrespondthesameway?Itmadeperfectsense.The librarianwalked by and overheard Tru talking. She approachedRobby

andTru.“I’mgoing tohave toaskyou to loweryourvoicesa little,”shesaidsoftly.They both apologized.When the librarian turned the corner andwas out of

sight,Trustoodup.“Ihavetogoanyway,”shesaidinaloudwhisper,stillnotvery quietly. “One last thing. If you think, say, or write something negative,somethingthatyouareworriedaboutorcomplainingabout,quicklyoffset thatenergy frequency by rethinking, restating, or rewriting the thought in thepositive.“Andifyouactinsuchawaythatisinconflictwithyourintention—suchas

settinganintentiontoattractnewfriendsbutthenrefusingtogotoapartywhenyouareinvited—thisisthesameasthinkingorwritinginthenegative.Actionsare just thoughts in practice. So alwaysmake sure your thoughts, words, andactionsareinalignmentwithyourintentions.“AndnowIreallyhavetogo.”Trustartedwalkingaway.Robbynoticedsheseemedtobouncewhenshewalked.Everythingabouther

seemedlightandfilledwithpositivevigor.“Nicetomeetyou,Robby!”shesaidratherloudlyasshewavedgoodbyewith

bothhands.“Nicetomeetyou,Truth.”Robbyheardwhathe’dsaidagainandthought,Truthjustgavemealessonon

themala.Hewas somewhat freakedoutbywhathad justhappened. It almostdidn’tfeelreal.HelookedatthepaperwhereTruhadwritten“Thankyoufortheblessings,”whichconfirmedtheencounterwasreal.Afterabsorbingeverythingshe’dtaughthim,hepickedupthetinymalamanualtofinishreadingitbeforehehadtoleave.

Acommonpracticetobeginistochooseamantrathatyouwillrepeatwitheverybeadonyourmala twicedaily, in themorningand in theevening,anddothisforfortydays.Ifpossible,trackyourresultsinajournal or diary. At the end of forty days, change the mantra tosomethingnewandcommittoanotherforty-daycycle.Ifyoudo,yourlifewillneverbethesame.

Insummary,decideuponanintention,anoutcomeyouwishtocreatein your life, such as wealth, health, joy, friendship, love, or careersuccess—the possibilities are infinite. Next, create a mantra thatrepresents your intention. Next, repeat yourmantra 108 timeswhileholdingeachbeadofthemalabetweenyourthumbandindexfinger.Think of your intention when you say your mantra. Do this in themorningandintheevening.Forbestresults,committoworkingwithonemantratwicedailyforfortydays.Recordtheresultsdaily.

SomuchofeverythinghewaslearningmadecompletesensetoRobbydespitehis skepticism. Like his father said, the mala beads seemed to represent anintersection where science met spirituality. He decided to commit to a dailypracticeofusinghis strandofmalabeadswith theSanskrit abundancemantratwiceadayforfortydays.Whynot?Itwon’tmakethingsworse,hethought.Andmaybethiswillhelpmy

lifeimprove,ifevenjustalittle.Hedecidedtobeginthenextday.Heknewhe’dhavetofindaprivateplaceto

practice his mala exercise where no one would see him. He felt lighter justhavingmadethecommitment.Hepackeduphismala,themanual,andhispieceofpaperandleftthelibrarytogohometoMary.

BAM,BAM,BAM!Marywokeupfromadeepsleeptoaloudknockonthedoor.BAM,BAM,BAM!“Robby?”sheyelled.“Robby?Areyouhome?”She didn’t like answering the door when someone arrived unexpectedly,

especiallyfirstthinginthemorning.Sheheardnothingbutanotherroundofloudknocking.BAM!BAM!BAM!Maryquicklyjumpedoutofbed,threwasundressonfromthedaybefore,and

made her way down the stairs to the front door, combing her hair with herfingers along theway.Before she could reach thedoor, therewasyet anotherloudBAM,BAM,BAM!“I’mcoming!”sheyelledassheapproachedthedoor.She looked through thepeephole and sawamanonherdoorstepwearinga

badgewithbiglettersthatread“Sheriff.”Herheartwaspoundingassheopenedthedoor.“MaryRobinson?”thesheriffbarkedather.“Yes,that’sme,”shesaid,hesitantly.“IsRobertRobinsonhere?”“Ahh,Idon’tthinkso.Why?What’sgoingon?”ThesheriffhandedMarysomepapers.“Ma’am,you’vebeenserved.”Marytriedreadingthelegaldocuments,butthestressofhavingbeenawoken

bybangingatherdoorhadshutdownherabilitytothinkclearly.“Whatisthis?”sheaskedanxiously.“It’sanevictionnotice,ma’am.I’msorrytodeliverthebadnews.”“Whatdoesitmean?”sheasked.“Itmeansyouhavefourteendaystoremoveallyourstuffandbeoutofhere

beforethelandlordcomesbackwithapoliceofficerandamovingcompanytomoveitallintostorageatyourexpense.”“Fourteendays,really?”He responded more softly this time. “It’s serious, ma’am. You’re going to

needtofindanewplacetolive.”Heturnedaroundandwalkedbacktohiscar.Maryjuststoodthere,hairdisheveled,documentsinhand,mouthwideopen.

Shewas in shock.Where theheck isRobby? shewondered.This isa friggingnightmare.Mary closed the door and calledRobby on his cellphone, but therewas no

answer.“Callmerightaway.Whereareyou?Robby,Ineedyoutocomehomenow.Somethingterriblehashappened.”She walked into the kitchen and saw a note propped on the counter. She

pickeditupanditread:Leftearlythismorning,sweetie.Lotstodo.Didn’twanttowakeyou.I’llcallyoulater.Love,Robby.Maryshuffled into the living roomandsatdownon the sofa, stunned.How

arewegoingtoaffordtomove?Wedon’thaveanymoneyforfood;howarewegoingtohaveenoughmoneyforanewapartment?Shecurleduponthesofaandbegantocry.Sheremainedtherewaitingforher

husbandtocallherback,thehusbandwhohadtoldhertotakehertimefindinganew job, that she didn’t need toworry about the rentwhile shewas looking.Well,nowshewasworried.

DAVEROBINSONwassittingupinbedwithhislegscrossedandhishandsturnedpalmsuprestingonhiskneeswhenNursePaulaburstintotheroomandflicked the fluorescent lights on. “Good morning, Dave!” she said in herfamouslyloudvoice.Dave’seyespoppedopen,andhiswholebodyjumped.“Geez,Paula!Areyou

tryingtogivemeaheartattack?”Shegrabbedhisarmandbegancheckinghisbloodpressure.Shewasahefty,

hardwomanwithastronggrip.NothingwasgentleaboutPaulaexceptherheart.Shewasthekindest,mostcompassionatenurseinthehospital,onlywitharoughbedsidemanner.“Iwon’tgiveyouaheartattack,Dave.It’snotyourheartthat’stheproblem.

What’sthis?You’remeditatingnow?”“Well, Iwas trying. It’s kind of hardwith nurses and technicians flying in

here every five minutes to poke and prod me. You know, there’s a lot ofevidencethatmeditationisgoodforone’shealth.”“I know,” said Paula. “I’ve read the medical journals. You don’t need to

convinceme.I’mjustwondering,whythesuddeninterest?”Shefinishedtakinghis blood pressure, rolled the blood pressure machine aside, and put herstethoscopetohischest.Davewaiteduntilsheremovedtheearpiecesofthestethoscopetoanswerher.

“Mysonvisitedme.HeremindedmeofsomethingIonceknewbutsadlyhad

forgotten.AndforgettingisthereasonIgotsick.”Shegavehimafrown.“Itwasn’tthecigarettesthatmadeyousick?”“ThecigaretteswerehowIgotsick,notwhyIgotsick.Iallowedmyselftoget

sickbecauseIhadforgottenwhyIneededtobehealthy.”“Okay,nowyou’regettingphilosophical onme,” she teased. “Theywarned

meaboutyou.Timeformetoleave.”Sheheadedforthedoor.“Wait,Paula!I’mseriousaboutthis.Thisroomisn’tgoingtowork.Ineeda

placeIcanmeditatequietly.Anyideas?”Without hesitation, Paula said, “The chapel. You should go to the chapel.

That’swhereIgowhenIneedafewminutesofpeace.It’sniceandquietthere.Nobodybothersyou.”“Yeah,butI’mnotreligious.”She snickered. “Neither am I!That doesn’tmatter.Everyone iswelcome in

thechapel.”“ButIcan’tgetthereonmyown.”“Again, not a problem,” responded Paula. “The hospital chaplain will be

happytorollyoubackandforth.He’sgotalotofextratimeonhishands,”sheadded.“I’lltellyouwhat.I’llsetitupforyou.”“Really?”askedDave.“Really,”saidPaulawithasmirk.“Tomakeupforalmostgivingyouaheart

attack.”Thenshehustledoutthedoor.Davegot back intoposition to startmeditating again.Aminute later,Betsy

swungopenthedoorwithatrayfulloffood.“Breakfast!”Dave sighed and pulled the blankets over himself. Maybe tomorrow, he

thought.Tomorrow’sanewday.

ROBBYENTEREDhisfather’shouse,anditwaslikewalkingbackintime.Little had changed in six years. It held the same sofa, sameTV, same diningroomtableandchairs,andsamerefrigerator.Eventhecarpetsandartworkwerethesame.Athousandmemoriesofhischildhoodrushedoverhim.Robby saw a family photo on a table and picked it up. Tears sprang to his

eyes, and he fell to his knees in grief. It was a photo of his mom, dad, andhimselftakenjustbeforetheaccidentthatkilledhismother.Hekneeledonthecarpet, holding the frame to his chest. His entire body convulsed as hesurrenderedtothegrief.Ifhehadonlygoneshoppingwithher,maybethingswouldhaveturnedout

differently. Insteadhe toldhismotherhewasbusy,butwhathe’d reallydonewasreadamagazine.Maybeshewouldstillbealiveifhehadgone.Hecouldhave warned her. Instead, a truck driver nodded off and drove his eighteen-wheeler across the median strip on the highway. His mother never saw itcoming.Shenevermadeittothestore,andshenevercamehomeagain.Robby cried, sitting on the living room carpet, until his cellphone rang.He

lookedandsawitwasMary.Hewasn’treadytoanswerit.Hewantedtogatherhimselftogetherfirst.Heputthefamilyphotodownonatable,walkedintothekitchen, and from there went down the basement stairs and into his father’soffice.Heflickedthelightsonandlookedaround.Again,itwasasiftimehadfrozen

thepastinplace.Hisdadhadn’tchangedonesinglethinginthehouse.Evenhismother’s magazines were still on the coffee table. It’s no wonder he’s sick,thoughtRobby.He’slivinginaconstantstateofgrief.Hesawaphotoofhisdadgettingthekeytothecityforhumanitarianworkhe

had done improving city shelters.Another picture showed hismom at her artopening.ThentherewerephotosofRobbyinhisCubScoutuniform,playingtheleadinthehighschoolplay,andhimandMarybeforegoingtoaprom.“It’sbeensixyears,forcryingoutloud.Stoplivinginthepast,Dad,”hesaid

outloud,knowingnoonecouldhearhim.Robby spotted the picture of himself next to Wayne Gretzky, holding the

signedpuck.Itwasonthewall infrontofhisfather’sdesk,rightwhereithadalways been. He snatched the photo off the wall and then shut the lights offbeforerushingupthestairs.Hisheartachedfromjustbeinginthehouse.Therewerenever-endingremindersofhismomaroundeverycorner.Hewatered theplantsusingtheblenderpitcherfromthekitchen,lockedthefrontdoor,hoppedinhispickuptruck,anddroveawaytowardMatt’ssportsmemorabiliastore.Fifteen minutes later,Matt saw him outside the store through the window.

Robby was walking toward the store from the parking lot with the puck andframed photograph in his hands. Because the storewas filledwith customers,Matt quickly filled out some paperwork and grabbed some cash from theregister.When Robby entered the store,Matt showed himwhere to sign andgavehimthecash.“Asyoucansee,I’malittlebusy,”saidMatt.HepattedRobbyontheback

andadded,“Nicedoingbusinesswithyou,Poopstain.Istill thinkyou’recrazylettinggoofthis,butsomebodyisgoingtobeahappycustomer.”“Thanks,Matt.Let’snotspendsomuchtimetogethernexttime.”Mattnoddedwitha smile. “I’msorry.Dutycalls.Noteverybodygets to sit

aroundandwritestoriesalldaylong,”heteased.Robby waved him off and counted out the three hundred and fifty dollars

beforehestuffedthebillsinhispocket.Hetookonelastlookatthehockeypuckand photo to burn the experience into hismemory. On the one hand, he washappytohavesomemoneyforfood.Ontheotherhand,hefeltsickforsellingone of his favorite childhoodmemories for a little cash.How didmy life gethere?hewondered.Mattwasalreadytalkingtocustomers,soRobbyquietlyslippedoutside.He

checkedhiscellphoneintheparkinglot.Maryhadcalledagain,sohecalledherbackwithout listening to hermessage. He had dozens of voicemailmessagesthathehadneverplayedbecausehecustomarilyreturnedcallswithoutlistening.There was no answer on Mary’s phone. I’ll try again in a few minutes, he

decided.She’sprobablyjustwonderingwhereIam.TakingashortdetouronthedrivehometoBoylston,Robbydrovetoonehis

favoritespotsbytheWachusettReservoirinOakdale.HepulledoverwheretheQuinapoxetRivermetthereservoirandtherewasafifteen-footwaterfalljustashortwalkuptheriver.Robbyoftensatontherocksthereandsoakedinthesunwhenhehadsomethingimportanttocontemplate.Hefigureditwouldbeagreatplacetodohismalaexerciseforthefirsttime.He grabbed the mala beads and booklet and walked over to the rocks. He

lookedaroundtobesurehewasalone.Thenheheldhismalainonehandandread the Sanskrit abundance mantra aloud, referring to the booklet, as hefingeredeachmalabead.“OmshrimmahaLakshmiyeiswaha.OmshrimmahaLakshmiyeiswaha.OmshrimmahaLakshmiyeiswaha…”As he spoke each word, he thought about the significance of thanking the

goddessofabundancewithdeeprespectforalltheabundancehewasreceivingfrom her.He immediately felt the power of the ritual.Within no time he hadmemorizedthemantraanddidn’thavetoreaditfromthemanual.Bythetimehehadrepeatedthemantraforthe108thtime,Robbyfeltempoweredandhopefulforabetterfuture.Whenhewasdone,he laydownon the rockandbathed in theserenity that

hadovercomehim.Witheyesclosed,he listened to the soundof thewaterfalland breeze. He could smell the grass and wildflowers surrounding him. Hisentire body andmindwere buzzingwith positive energy. The sun’s rays hadmadetherockwarm,andwithinminuteshefellintoadeepsleep.

MARYCOULDN’TwaitforRobbyanylonger.Sheknewwhatneededtobedone. She went to the top drawer of her dresser and grabbed her mother’santiquering.Itwastime.Shehadtosellit.Shefeltsurethatifshetookthemoneytothelandlordhe’dstoptheeviction

proceedings,evenifsheandRobbywereafewhundredshort.Shealwayssawpeople in their best light, so she believed the landlord would show themcompassion. She straightened her sundress, combed her hair, and put hercellphoneinherpurse.When she arrived at Jankowitz Jewelers,Mary wasn’t even thinking about

losingtheonlybelongingofhermother’sshehad.Shewasfocusedongettingthe money she and Robby needed so they wouldn’t be evicted. She wasdeterminedanddoingwhatshehadtodotosurvive.Asshewalkedfromhercartothebuilding,hercellphonerang.Shelookedat

thecallerIDandsawitwasRobby.Greattiming,Robby,shethought.Sheknewshecouldn’tanswerbecausehe’daskwhereshewas,andifshetoldhim,he’dtry to stop her from selling the ring. He would never allow it without anargument,butsheknewitwastheonlyway.Sheputherphoneonvibrateandtosseditbackintoherpurse.When she entered the jewelry store, there was a twenty-something woman

behind the counter.Therewas no sign ofEva.Before the young clerk had anopportunitytogreether,Marystartedtalkingwithoutsayinghello.“Ineedtosee

theowner,please.He’llknowwhatthisisabout.”“Andyourname?”askedthegirlpolitelyasshegrabbedapaperandpenfrom

behindthecounter.“MaryRobinson.Idon’t thinkheknowsmylastname.Iwasheretwodays

ago.He’sinterestedinbuyingmymother’sring.”“Well,Mr.Jankowitzisn’tintoday.”“IsEvahere?”“I’msorry,she’snothereeither.”“Thencanyoucallhim?I’msurehe’llcomeinifyouexplaintohimwhatthis

isabout.”“I’msorry,Mary.Hespecificallytoldmenottocallhimtoday.He’sdealing

withafamilyemergency.”Mary’s stiff,determinedbodywas ready toovercomewhateverobstacle the

girlputinfrontofher,butwhensheheard“familyemergency,”itbroughtbackpersonalmemoriesofherparents’illnesses.Bothhadbeensickforacoupleofyearsbeforetheydied,whichhadbeenhardonMary.Herdeterminationslowlydeflated.Shetookadeepbreath,hopingtomakeonemoreattempt.“Isthereanyoneelseherewhohastheauthoritytobuymyring?”“I’msorry.Mr.Jankowitzistheonlyone.Butifyouleaveyournumber,he

cancallyouwhenhereturns.”Marywrotehercellphonenumberdownonthepieceofpapertheclerkgave

herandasked,“Willthatbelatertoday?”“Tobehonest,Ibelievehe’llbeoutforafewdays.Ireallyamverysorry.I’ll

makesurehecallsyouwhenhereturns.”Mary’s head became cloudy. Her plan was derailed. All she could do was

mumbleathankyouandwalkoutthedoor.Shegotbackinhercarandtriedtothink.Herwholebodyfeltnumb.ShecalledherfriendCaroline,whoansweredrightaway.“Mary!It’ssonicetohearfromyou.”“Caroline,”shesaidsoftly,“canIcomeseeyou?Ineedtotalk.”“I’mnothome,Mary.ButIcanmeetyouatPinecroftDairyinWestBoylston

inhalfanhour.Doesthatworkforyou?”“Thatworks.I’llseeyouthere.Thanks.”

ASLEEPONTHE rockby thewaterfallnear the reservoir,Robbydreamedthathewasholdinghismalaandsittingbesidehismother.“Mom,it’ssogoodtoseeyou,”Robbysaidinhisdream.“It’sgoodtoseeyoutoo,son.”Sheliftedhishandfromtherockandheldit.

Hisentirebodywasovercomewithherlove.“Youlookgreat,Mom.Younger.”“I’m inawonderfulplace,Robby—our truehome. I’mhere to tellyou that

everything is going to be all right. I helped you find that in the attic.” Shemotionedtowardthemala.“Really?Youhelpedmefindthis?Isitreallymagical?”“Themalawillteachyouwhatmostpeopleforgetwhentheyareborn.”“What’sthat?”“Forstarters,thateveryoneisconnectedtotheUltimatePowerthatcreatedall

thereis.”“God?”“Yes,God.EveryoneandeverythingisconnectedtoGodandtooneanother.

Andeverypersonhas thesamecreativepower thatGodhas. Itallbeginswithyour thoughts, words, and actions. This is what themalawill teach you. Payattention,son.Youhavemuchtolearn.NowIhavetogo.”“Ohpleasedon’tgo,Mom!”Butshewasalreadygone.AnoisycrowflewoverRobbysleepingontherock,anditssquawkingwoke

himup.Heopenedhiseyesbuthadtosquintduetothebrightsunlight.Hesawthecrowlandonatreebranchnearbyandhearditcaw.Robbysatontherockthinkingaboutthedream.Wasitreal?Itsurefeltreal.

Itwasadream,but itdidn’t feel likeanyotherdream. It felt likeavisit fromMom…avisitfromheaven.Robby looked at hiswatch to see that itwas late afternoon.Ohno,Mary’s

goingtobeworried.HegotuptogobuysomegrocerieswithhishockeypuckmoneyandthengethometoMary.She’llbehappythatwehavesomefoodtoeat,hethought.Nomoreboxedmacaroniandcheeseforawhile.

MARYWASONLY tenminutes from the restaurant and ice creamparlor,whichwasjustenoughtimetogiveheranopportunitytocollectherself.Whenshearrived,Carolinewaswaitingintheparkinglot.Theyhugged,butMarycutthehugshortbecauseshedidn’twanttogetemotionalagain.Theladieswalkedinsideandgotseatedatatable.MaryimmediatelytoldCarolineherwholestory,revealingthesecretssheand

Robbyhadbeenkeepingfrompeopleabouttheirfinancialstruggles.“Youknow,Mary,itmusthavebeendivineinterventionthatthejewelrystore

ownerwasn’ttheretoday,”Carolinesaid.“Youcan’tsellyourmother’sring.Itwasablessinginyourfavor.”That wasn’t what Mary had expected her friend to say. She had thought

Caroline would encourage her to try another jewelry store or wait until thefollowingweek.Mary had always respected Caroline’s advice ever since they were

schoolmates. In high school, Caroline was the head cheerleader. But unlikemanyofthesnobbycheerleadersonhersquad,shehadaheartofgold.Carolinehad been friends with everyone, regardless of their social status in school.Becauseofit,everyonelikedher.MaryalwaysthoughtitwasoddthatsheandCarolinewerebestfriendsgiven

howintrovertedandmuchlesssociallyoutgoingshewasthanherfriend.Marypreferred tobepaintingordrawing rather thangoing to aparty.Yet for some

reason, on some important level, the two girls had clicked. Now they’d beenfriendsformorethanfifteenyears.“Iknowyou’reright,”Maryreplied.“Itprobablywasdivineintervention.But

we’re being evicted and selling that ring is the only solution I could think ofrightnow.IfIcangotothelandlordwiththatmoney,I’msureIcantalkhimoutoftheeviction.”Caroline looked atMary endearingly. “Sweetie, if youwere served eviction

papers, he’s not going to change his mind. He’s already got a court-orderedeviction.Iknowyouliketoseethebestinpeople,buttohimit’sjustabusinesstransaction.Youhaven’tpaidyourrent,sohehastogetyououtofthere.You’reabusinessriskevenifyoupayhimwhatyouowehim.”Apetitewaitressarrivedtotaketheirorders.Sheseemedtooyoungtobeout

of school at this time of the day.Even her voicewas soft and squeaky like achild’s. “Welcome to Pinecroft Dairy and Restaurant. How can I help youladies?”shesaid.“Areyouhereforlunch?”“IthinkI’mjustgoingtogetahotfudgesundae,”saidMary.“Ooh,thatsoundsgoodtome,too,”saidCaroline.ThewaitressleftandCarolineheldMary’shandinhersfromacrossthetable.

“Eventhoughyoucan’tseeanothersolutionrightnow,theUniverseisalwayssupportingyou.Saythatoutloud,Mary.”“TheUniverseisalwayssupportingme.”“It’s possible that there’s a better apartment out therewaiting for you. I’m

sureyou’veheardthatwhenonedoorclosesanotheroneopens.Thismeansthatchangecanbegood.Sometimeswecan’tseeitwhenwe’reinthemiddleofit,but that’s what faith is all about. You and Robby never really liked yourapartmentanyway,right?”Marylaughedsoftly.Herdemeanorsoftened.“No,weneverreallydid.”“Sowhyalltheresistancetobeingevicted?Isitreallythatbad?”“Well, yes, becausewe don’t have any place to go andwe don’t have any

money to pay for the first month, last month, and security deposit that mostlandlordsrequire.”“Icanteachyouhowtodealwiththat.Ireallywishyouhadcometooneof

my recentmanifestationworkshops. It doesn’tmatter, though. I can teachyouwhatyouneedtoknowprivately.”“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.YouknowhowRobby feels about that

stuff.Frankly,hecanbeapainintheneckaboutanythingthatcan’tbeproven,andIdon’tfeellikelisteningtohisskepticismaboutit.I’velearnedtojustavoidtheaggravation.”“Butyoucanproveit.TakeMatt,forexample.Heusedtobethatway,too,

beforewegotmarried.However,whenheopenedhisfirststoreandnobodywascoming in,heopenedhismind to thepracticeof setting intentionsbecausehehadtopaythebills.Andyou’veseenwhatit’sdoneforhim.Henowhasthreestoresthatareallthriving.HeusesthesameprinciplesIteachmystudentseveryday.He’sproventohimselfthatitworks.”Mary’seyeswidened.“Wecertainlycouldusea littlehelpinour livesright

now.”“It’s not blackmagic I’m teaching,Mary. I simply showpeople how to set

intentions and use their thoughts to create whatever they want in their lives.You’reright.Thisisexactlywhatyouneedrightnow.”“I guess ifRobby chooses not to believe in such things, he doesn’t have to

knowabout it ifyou teachme. I’veneverkept secrets fromhimbefore,but ifyouthinkthiscanhelpusthewayithelpedMatt,thenIcanlivewithonesecretuntilwegetthroughthiscrisis.”Carolinepulledoutapen fromherpurseand turnedMary’spaperplacemat

over.“Letmeshowyouhoweasyitis.Writethisdown:‘Whenonedoorcloses,anotheroneopenstosomethingbetter.Abetterapartmentiswaitingforus.’”Marywroteitdown.“Okay,good,”saidCaroline.“Nowrepeatthatphrasetoyourselfeverytime

youhaveanegativethoughtaboutbeingevicted.”Marysaiditoutloud.“Whenonedoorcloses,anotheroneopenstosomething

better.AbetterapartmentiswaitingformeandRobby.”Thewaitressdeliveredthehotfudgesundaesandaskediftherewasanything

elseshecouldgetforthem.“I’dlikeanewapartmentwiththat,”Marysaidjokingly.Carolinelaughed,happytoseeherfriendfeelinglighter.Thewaitresssaid,“Youknow,there’sabulletinboardoverthereandoneof

our regular customers came in thismorningwith a notice for an apartment. Itmightbeworthalook.She’sarealnicelady,andagoodtipper.”Thewaitressgotcalledoverbythemanager,andCarolinescootedoutofthe

booth.Sheranovertothebulletinboardandcamebackwiththead.“Itsaysit’sa five-year-old condominiumwith a view of the reservoir.” She looked up atMary.“Soundssweet.”Shelookedbackatthepaper.“Allutilitiesincluded,onlyninehundredandfiftydollarsamonth!”Marydidn’tseemexcited.“Soundsgreat,butthat’smorethanwepaynow—

well,maybe not, since it includes utilities.” She took out a pen and did somemathquicklyonherplacemat.“Butthatwouldmeanwe’dneedtocomeupwithabouttwothousandeighthundredandfiftydollars.IfIhadthat,Iwouldn’tbeinthismessrightnow.”

“Okay, there’s one of those negative and limiting thoughts. Read thataffirmationthreetimestooffsetit.”MarydidwhatCarolinesuggested.Shetrustedherfriend.Shethoughtabout

howCarolinehadhelpedMattturnthesportsmemorabiliastorearound.They’dsinceboughtahouse,bothweredrivingnewcars,andtheyhadmoneysavedforretirement.“What do you say we call that lady and go see the condo?” suggested

Caroline.“What?No…seriously?”Marygiggledatthethoughtofit.“What harm can it do?Get out your phone and call right now. It’s a good

practice.Howcanyouvisualizewhatitwouldbeliketolivethereifyoudon’tseeit?”Mary called the number, and the lady answered immediately. Shewas very

friendly, and, to Mary’s surprise, the woman asked if she wanted to see thecondoatfiveo’clock,whichwasonlyanhouraway.Maryagreed,andsheandCarolinewereontheirwayafterfinishingtheiricecreamsundaes.As the two women got in Caroline’s car, Mary’s cellphone rang. It was

Robby.SheansweredthecallandtoldhimshewaswithCaroline.Hesoundedsohappythatshedecidedtowaittotellhiminpersonabouttheevictionnotice.There will be plenty of time for that later, she thought. Plus, I finally feelhopeful,andIdon’twanttoruinit.MarytoldRobbyshelovedhimandthathe’dprobablyneedtoeatsupperon

hisown.She’dbe lategettinghome.Afterhangingup,shewasfeelingdeeplygratefulforherfriendCaroline,andshetoldhersoonthedriveovertoseethecondo.

DAVESATUPinhishospitalbed,amazedathowdifferenthefeltfromtwomorningspriorwhenhe’dwokenupwaitingtodie.Todayhewokeupeagertolive. He had dreamed of his wife during the night, and she helped him torememberthathislifewasapreciousgift.“It’s the most valuable gift anyone can give,” Margie had told him in the

dream.“Agiftgiven toyoubysomeonewho lovesyoumore thanyou’lleverknow.”Davenow recognized that hehadbeen squanderinghis lifebecausehewas

unabletoacceptMargie’sdeath.Hesaidtohiswifesilentlyinhisthoughts,IunderstandnowthatIcan’tstop

livingmylifebecauseyourlifestoppedsixyearsago.It’snotwhatyouwantforme,Iknow.Iseemoreclearlythanevernowthatwiththegiftoflifecomesjoyandpain,loveandheartbreak,successandfailure.Itisourfreewillthatallowsustochoosewhatwefocusupon.Ipromise,honey,thatIwillnowfocusonthelovethatisallaroundme,andtheloveyouandIshared,ratherthanthepainIfeelfromlosingyou.Davecouldstillfeelhiswife’spresence.Heknewshehadreallyvisitedhim

inhisdreambecausehecouldstillfeelhernearhimnowthathewasawake.Heremainedasstillaspossible,hopingnottolosetheconnection.ThedoortoDave’sroomopenedafteraquietknock.“MayIcomein?”asked

agentlevoice.

“Comein,”answeredDave.ThehospitalchaplainenteredDave’s roomwearingblackpantsandablack

shirtwith awhite clerical collar.Hewas a small,wiryman in hismid-sixtieswith a kind, pleasantmanner. “Hello,Mr.Robinson. I’m JonathanBurke,” hesaidcasually,ashewalkedtowardDave’sbedtoshakehishand.“Father Burke, nice to meet you. Please call me Dave.” Then he paused,

unsure.“DoIcallyouFather?AreyouCatholic?”“Episcopalian.ButIthinkofmyselfasofferingmulti-faithspiritualguidance

now that I work here in the hospital. Still, you got it right: Father Burke iscorrect,ifyouwanttobeformalaboutit.Jonathanisfine,too.”“Well,Iappreciateyoucoming,Father,”Davesaid,wantingtoberespectful.“Notatall.Paulatoldmeyou’relookingforaplacetomeditateandthatshe

suggestedthechapel.”“Yes,isthatpermitted?”“Ofcourseitis.That’swhatmostpeopledothere.Wejusthaveanothername

forit;wecallitpraying.”FatherBurke’sbrightblueeyeslitup,knowinghewasbeingclever.Dave smiled and nodded. “I never thought of it like that, but you’re right.

Meditationandprayerhavealotincommon.”TheministersatontheendofDave’sbed.“Isitindailysilencemyself,”he

said.“I’vebeendoingitforsolongnowthatittakesmenotimeatallbeforemymindgoesblankandmyfingersandhandsget tingly.Before Iknowit, forty-fiveminuteshavegonebyandmyentirebodyfeelslikeit’sfloatingintheair.Whenmyawarenesscomesbacktotheroom,Ifeeltwentyyearsyounger.Mymind ismorealert, andmybody is filledwithenergy. Is thatyourexperiencewithmeditation?”Dave was nearly speechless. “Ahh yes, definitely, that’s exactly my

experience.Atleastitusedtobe.Ihaven’tdoneitforalongtime.Igaveitupaboutsixyearsago.”FatherBurkeleanedin.“Andwhyisthat,mayIask?”Davetookadeepbreath.“Everythingbetweenusisconfidential,right?Even

ifI’mnotofyourreligion?”“Idon’tdiscriminateinconfidentiality,”FatherBurkesaidwithasmile.“I’m

merelyheretoserve.”“Well, IstoppeddoingeverythingIbelievedinaftermywifedied.Shewas

forty-nine years old, and I had just turned fifty-four. To be honest, I lostmydesire to live. I spent most of my days wishing I could join her. I stoppedworking, stoppedgolfing, stoppedmeditating, andprettymuch stopped living.AndthatmademefeelguiltybecauseIhaveasonwhowastwenty-sixwhenhis

motherdied.He’sthirty-twonow.”“Andhowdidlifeturnoutforyouafterthat?”askedtheminister.“You’re looking at it.Within a year ofmywife’s death I got lung cancer,

whichleftmewithonlyhalfalung.And,forthelastfouryears,I’vespentwaytoomuchtimegettingtoknowthedoctorsandnursesaroundhere.”FatherBurkewaitedtobesureDavewasdonetalking,thenasked,“Andnow,

myfriend?Whatdoyouwantnow?Whythedesiretobeginmeditatingagain?”“Well that’s thequestion, isn’t it?”saidDave.He lookedout thewindowat

theclouds.“IfI’mbeinghonest,it’sbecausemysonneedsme.Ididn’tthinkhedid.Quitefrankly,Ididn’tthinkIhadanythingtoofferhim,mostlybecauseheneverwantedtohearwhatIhadtosayafterhegraduatedfromcollege.Buthecameinheretheotherdayeagertohearmythoughts.ItmademerealizeIhavealottogivehim…well,teachhimisprobablythebetterword.AndIknowhismotherwouldwantthat.”Davesatupstraight in thebedandputhishandonFatherBurke’sknee.“I

don’tknowifyoubelieveinthissortofthingornot,butmywifecametomeinadreamlastnight.Sheaskedmetoturnmylifearoundtohelpourson.Andinthedream,IpromisedherIwould.Evenawake,IreallywouldliketohonorthatpromiseifIcan.”“I’veseentoomuchnottobelieveinsuchthings,Dave.Sodoyouthinkyou

candowhatyoupromised?”“IthinkIcansharewhatIknowwithhimaboutbeingsuccessfulinlifeand

business.Whathedoeswithmyadviceisuptohim.ButIthinkhecameinheretheotherdaysimplyneedinghisdad.IknowI’mnotmuchgoodtohiminthisplace,andcertainlynotifI’mdead,soIwanttoturnmyhealtharoundandseeifI can make up for the last six years. I realize now how selfish and self-destructiveI’vebeen. I’mnotproudof it,but it’snot too late tochange.Doesthatmakesense,Father?”It all sounded familiar to theminister.The storyofwhathappened toDave

andhis son,Robby, remindedhimofhisownchildhood.Hismotherhaddiedgivingbirthtohim,afterwhichhisfatherlefthimwithhismother’sparents.Hisgrandparents were wonderful parents to young Jonathan, but he had alwayslongedforarelationshipwithhisbiologicalfather.Unfortunately,hewasneverabletomeethim.Helaterlearnedthathisfatherhaddrunkhimselfintoisolationandhomelessness.“Itmakesmoresensetomethanyou’lleverknow,”hetoldDave.“SoI’dlike

tohelpyouinanywaythatIcan.HowaboutIpickyouuphereeverymorningatsevenandeveryafternoonatfour?I’llbringyoubackandforthtothechapeluntiltheykickyououtofhereforbeingtoohealthy.Isthatagoodstart?”

“Comehere,Father,”saidDave,asheleanedovertohughim.“We’llbegintomorrow?”“Tomorrowit is,”answeredFatherBurkebeforehe left.Heclosed thedoor

onhiswayoutsothatDavecouldhaveamoment tositwithwhathehadjustacknowledgedtotheminister.

CAROLINEANDMARYwalkeduptothecondothatwasavailableforrentwithJenny, thewomanwhoowned it, leading theway.Jennywas inhermid-sixties,ahighschool teacherwhowasnewto retirement.Andshewasclearlyproudofthespaceshewasshowingthem.ThethreewomenchattedwhileJennyshowedthemthespaciousyard,being

thatthecondowasanendunit.Marynoticedtheflowerbedsallaroundit.“Theflowersare fabulous.This seems tobe theonlycondo thathas them.Didyouplantthem?”sheaskedJenny.“Thankyoufornoticing.Yes,Ididitmyself.Iwasalittlemorelimberfive

yearsago.I’msogladIdidit.Theyreallyaddsomebeauty,don’tthey?Thesearetulipsthatbloominearlyspring.Overhereareirisesandpeoniesthatcomeoutinlatespring.TheseareShastadaisiesandoverherearehydrangeas,whichbothbloom insummer.Finally,overherearemysunflowers that stickaroundintothefall.”“Youput somuch thought into it,” saidMary. “I lovepainting flowers. I’d

havesomethingnewtopainteveryseason,andrightinmyownyard.”Jenny’s face brightened. “Oh my goodness, what a nice idea. Would you

considerteachingme?Iwouldpayyou.I’vealwayswantedtolearntopaint.”“I’venevertaughtbefore,butthatwouldbefun—sure!”JennyaskedsomequestionsaboutMaryandRobby.ShelearnedthatRobby

wasawriterandMarywasbetweenjobs.Shelearnedthatthey’dbeentogether

foraboutfifteenyearsandmarriedforfive.Inreturn,MarylearnedthatJennyandherhusbandwerebothrecentlyretiredandlivedonlyafewmilesaway.“Weboughtthisplaceformyfatherfiveyearsago,justafteritwasbuilt.He

passed sooner than we expected. It’s been empty for over a year because Iwasn’treadytorentityet.Idon’tknowwhy,butthismorningIjustknewitwastime.”“I’msorryforyourloss,”saidMary.“AsyoungasIam,I’vealreadylostboth

myparentsandIknowhowdifficultitcanbe.”Jenny touchedMary’s armwith a smile and nodded, then led them up the

front stairs. As they entered the front door, sunlight was pouring through thelargewindows in the front of the condominium.The living room and kitchenwere one big sundrenched space.The living roomhad a cathedral ceiling thatreflectedthelight,makingtheplaceappearlargerthanitsactualsize.MaryandCarolinewerefirstdrawntowardapicturewindowthatoverlooked

the sparklingwater of the reservoir. “The sunsets are gorgeous here,” boastedJenny.“Itsometimesmakesthewholeplaceturnredandorange.Ofcourse,allthisfurniturewillbetakenoutofheretoemptyitforthenewtenants.Ifyoulikeanyofit,I’llgiveyouagooddeal.”As Caroline and Mary walked into the large galley kitchen, Caroline

whisperedtoherfriendwhileJennywasclosingthefrontdoor,“Didyoupickuponthat?Sheknewitwastimetorentjustthismorningafterwaitingforayear.Doyouthinkit’sjustaflukethatyouhappenedtogetanevictionnoticeonthesamemorning?Idon’tthinkso.Thiscondohasbeenwaitingforyou.”ItwasallverydreamytoMary,butshecouldn’thelpwonderingstillhowshe

andRobbywerepossiblygoingtogetthemoneyrequiredforthelease.Jennywalkedinto thekitchen.“Ishouldhavementionedthat,because it’sa

condo,alltheyardworkisdoneforyoubythecondoassociation.Thelawnismowedandraked.Thehedgesaretrimmed.Theyeventakecareofthesnowinthewinter.”“Whatabouttheflowerbeds?Iloveplantingandweeding,”saidMary.“Ifind

itrelaxing.”“No, thecondoassociationdoesn’tdothat. I’vebeendoingitmyself,but to

behonest Idon’t love itasmuchas Ioncedid. Ithurtsmyback toomuch. Ifthat’ssomethingyouenjoy,youwouldbewelcometodoit.”Jenny showed the girls the half bathroomand the office downstairs and the

bedroomwith themasterbathroomupstairs.Therewasn’t a room in theplacethatwasn’t glimmeringwith light. Bigwindowswere everywhere. Therewasevenaone-cargarage.Thethreewomenchattedforaboutanhourafter thetour.Theylaughedand

told stories. Mary and Jenny talked about the difficulties of losing a parent.Whenitwastimetogo,JennyhandedMarysomepapers.“This is the lease. Iwould love to rent thecondo toyouandyourhusband.

We’ll be showing it to other people, but I can’t imaginewe’ll find anyone asnice as you. Take the weekend and think about it. Talk it over with yourhusband,andgivemeacallifhe’sinterestedinseeingit.Okay?”MaryagreedandthankedJenny.AssheandCarolineleft,theybothstopped

tolookoutthepicturewindowagainatthesunthatwasnowsettinglowinthesky over the reservoir. It all seemed surreal toMary, somuch that she didn’twanttogohomeandspoilhermoodbybreakingtheevictionnewstoRobby.On their way back to Pinecroft Dairy, where they had leftMary’s car, the

womenfantasizedabouthowinspiringitwouldbeforMaryandRobbytoliveinthe condo. They agreed to talk the nextmorning. Caroline remindedMary ofeverything they’d discussed about intentions while eating their hot fudgesundaesandmadeMarypromisethatshe’drepeatheraffirmationeverytimeherthoughtsbecamefearfulorpessimistic.

MARYCALLEDCAROLINE on the phone themorning after looking atJenny’scondo.“DoyoureallybelieveIfoundthatapartmentbecauseIreadthataffirmation? Wasn’t that kind of fast for it to be anything more thancoincidence?”“Mary, time doesn’t existmetaphysically. Everything is happening at once.

Plus,youdidn’t just say theaffirmation;youalso tookactionwhenyouaskedthatwaitressforanapartmentwiththesundaes.”“Yeah,butIwasjoking.”“TheUniversedoesn’tunderstandthedifferencebetweenwhatwesaythatis

seriousandwhatwesay that ishumorous. It alsodoesn’tknow thedifferencebetween positive and negative. You went from the thought of finding anapartment,toactuallywriting‘abetterapartmentiswaitingformeandRobby,’tothensayingitoutloud.Bydoingso,youtookthreestepsthatsentapowerfulmessagetotheUniversethatyouwantabetterapartment.Andbecauseyouweresoemotional at the time, thatgave theaffirmationmorepower.Whenweaddfeelingstoourintentions,it’slikeaddingfueltoafire.Itincreasesthepotencyofanintentionexponentially.”“I certainly was emotional considering all the drama yesterday,” Mary

admitted.“When you then asked the waitress for an apartment with your hot fudge

sundae, you were taking action in a joyful way to manifest the outcome you

desired.TakingactionnotonlysendsapowerfulmessagetotheUniverse,italsoassists the Universe in delivering your request to you. If your action is inalignmentwithyourthoughtsandwords,it’sa‘triplethreat.’”“Idon’tentirelyunderstandabouttheactionpart,”confessedMary.Caroline, a natural-born teacher, loved sharing her intention practices. She

jumpedtoherfeetwithenthusiasmandpacedasshetalkedonthephone.“Thethought of wanting a better apartment was your intention. Saying youraffirmationoutloudmultipletimesiscalledattention.It’stheactofgivingyourintention attention, otherwise known as focus. In your case,what you focusedupon created a stronger attraction. Asking the waitress for a better apartmenthelpedtheUniverseconnectyouwiththenoticeonthebulletinboard.That,too,wasattentionintheformofaction—youaskedastrangerforanewapartment.“Yousee,Mary,ifallwedoissetanintentionandthensitonthesofawaiting

forpositiveresultstocomeintoourlives,it’smorechallengingfortheUniversetosenduswhatwedesire.But ifwe takeactionalignedwithan intention,wehelptheUniversebringtheintentionintoreality.WebecomelikeapinballinapinballmachinethatisbouncingaroundbumpingintopeoplethattheUniversemightbeabletousetohelpus.Doesthatmakesense?”“I think I understand.Because timedoesn’t exist in the spiritual dimension,

theUniversesomehowalreadyknewIwasgoingtobeevictedbeforeIknewit.Consequently,itmighthavebeenworkingforawhiletosetupanewapartmentformetoseethatmorning,whichiswhyJennydecidedtorentthecondoonthatveryday.Isthatright?”“Exactly.What’simportantaboutwhatyoujustsaid,Mary,isthateverything

wewantfromlife isalreadyavailable tous.TheUniversehasalreadymadeitso.Ourjobisto‘claimit,’whichisanotherwayofsayingwemust‘allowit’tocome into our lives.Once you embrace this concept, creating the life of yourdesireswillbecomeeffortlessforyou.”“Okay,soI justneedtoclaimorallowit.Andif that’s thecase, thenJenny

mighthavebeenguidedtoposttheapartmentonthebulletinboardatPinecroftDairybecausetheUniverseknewIwouldbemeetingyouthere.Butit’spossiblethatImightnothaveseenorfoundoutaboutthebulletinboardnoticeatallifIhadn’tjokedwiththewaitress.Somyaction—thejokeIspontaneouslymade—helpedtheUniversehelpme.”“That’sit!”yelledCarolineoverthephoneinherexcitement.Mattheardhiswifeyellandyelledback,“Areyoucallingme?”“No,honey,I’monthephonewithMary.”“Oh good. Have her tell Skidmark that his hockey puck went to a good

home.”

CarolinerelayedthemessagetoMary.Marywas familiarwith the puck. She had askedRobby about the photo of

him and Gretzky the first time she saw it on Dave’s office wall. Since then,Robby had mentioned this special childhood memento many times over theyears.“Idon’tunderstand,”saidMary.“DoesthatmeanRobbysoldhishockeypuckformoney?”“Ithinkso,sweetie.”“Youknowwhat,Caroline?RobbywasasleeplastnightwhenIgothome,so

we haven’t talked yet. I’ve been anxious about telling him about the evictionnotice,andIdon’tevenknowhowI’mgoingtobringupthesubjectofJenny’scondoforrent.ButIcanhearhe’sawakenowandmovingarounddownstairs,soIguessIneedtogotalkwithhim.Itwasnicechattingwithyou.Thanksfortheprivatelesson.”“Noproblem,Mary.Goodluck.”Robbywasdownstairsinhisofficewritinginhisjournal.Hehadjustfinished

hismalapracticeandalreadyhadmuchtorecord.Hewrote:

DAY3,Morning

I’ve memorized the mantra without looking at the booklet, and I’mpretty sure that I understand themeaning behind all thewords. I’malsowatchingmy thoughts andwords to keep thempositive. I neverrealizedhowoftenmythoughtsgotonegativity.EverytimeIthinkorexpress my worries and fears, I am doing my best to remember tooffsetthatwithanaffirmationthatispositive.IfI’venoticedanythingit’s that I definitely feel happier and more at peace now, even ifnothing concrete has occurred yet in terms of abundance. Still, I’mhopefulthatit’sonitsway.

Justashewasabouttowriteadescriptionofthedreaminwhichhismothervisitedhimbythewaterfall,Marywalkedintohisoffice.She’dbroughthimacupofhisfavoritedrink,apersonalinventionhecalledcofftea,whichwasthreequarters of a cup of licorice andmint teamixedwith one quarter of a cup ofblackcoffee.“It’sgoodtoseeyouwritingagain,”shesaid,placinghiscoffteaonhisdesk.

“Also, here’s today’smail. The top one says S. Thurston. Isn’t that your lastclient?” She handed Robby the small stack ofmail she had tucked under herarm.“Yeah,Samuel.Iwonderwhyhewroteme.Heusuallyemails.”Robbysorted

through theenvelopes.Almostallwerebills,mostof themnowpinkslips.HeopenedtheenvelopefromSamuel.“Whatthe—?”EnclosedwithSamuel’sletterwas a check for five thousand dollars. Robby’s heart began to pound as hehandedthechecktoMary.Hewasdumbfoundedandskeptical.“Don’t get excited yet,” he told her. “Thismust be some kind ofmistake.”

Robbyunfoldedtheletterandreaditaloud.“Becauseofyourbrilliantwriting,Ijust got an advance on the book you ghostwrote for me from Irving andKittredgePublishing.Theyabsolutelyloveit!Toexpressmyappreciation,I’msendingyouabonus.I’llgiveyouthedetailsnexttimeI’mintown.”“Wow,honey,”exclaimedMary,“that’samazing!Congratulations.”Shewas

jumpingupanddownbesideRobby inhischair,butheseemedmoreshockedthanhappy.“Ican’tbelieveit.Noonehaseversentmeabonusbefore.”Hereadtheletter

again,suspicious.Heexaminedthecheckandlookedat theenvelope.“Iguessit’sreal.Thepostmarkisfromhistown.Mygod,thisisincrediblygenerous.Noclienthaseverdoneanythinglikethis.”Robby’sentiredemeanorchangedfromskepticaltoenthusiastic.Althoughhe

feltasenseofreliefthathecouldnowpaythethreemonths’worthofbackrentandcoverthenextmonth’srent,heknewtherewouldn’tbemuchleftoverafterpaying the utilities and other bills. As soon as he caught himself viewing thesituationfromanegativeperspectivehethought,I’mnotgoingthere.Thisisagift,awonderfulgift.TheblessingiswhatImustfocuson.Robby looked at the check and felt gratitude in his heart, “one of themost

powerfulfrequenciesintheUniverse,”herecalledTrutellinghim.Hestoodupfromhisdesk,puthisarmsaroundMary,andsaid,“Let’scelebrate.”“Canweaffordto?”“Of course we can,” he said as he squeezed her body into his. But after

thinkingaboutwhatshesaid,headdedwithasmile,“As longaswecelebratewithhamburgers.”Marylaughed.“Wonderful.Ahamburgerforyou.Aveggieburgerforme.It

soundsdelightful.”Thecouplewentoutforonethemostenjoyableeveningsthey’dhadinalong

time.They ate burgers and cheese fries at JohnnyRockets at theNatickMallusing thehockeypuckmoneyRobbyhad inhispocket.RobbyboughtMaryastuffedbearatakiosk,andtheylaughedtogetherastheywalkedaroundthemalleatinghotpretzelsanddrinkingStarbuckscoffee.Robby knew he might feel fearful again tomorrow, but tonight he allowed

himselftofeelconnectedtotheabundanceoftheUniverse.Hehadnocluetheywerebeingevictedinamatterofdays,sotohimitfeltliketheirtroubleswere

over.Thingswerelookingup!All the while she was celebrating Robby’s good fortune with him, Mary

secretlyalsocelebratedthatshewasn’tgoingtohavetosellhermother’santiqueringanytimesoon.SheknewsheshouldhavetoldRobbyaboutthesheriff’svisitand the eviction notice, but she didn’t want to ruin themoment for him. Hisinability toget anewclient these last fewmonthshad really loweredhis self-confidence,andthisbonusfromSamuelwastheboostRobbyneeded.Sheknewitwaspressing,too,thatshebringupthematterofJenny’scondo,butthatcouldwaitaswell.Theyhaddodgedabullet,andthiswasamomenttocelebrate.Tonight therewerea lotofreasons tobegrateful,andRobbyandMaryhad

bothlearnedwithinthelastforty-eighthoursthepowerofagratefulmind.

IT HAD BEEN exactly one week since Robby found the mala. BecauseSamuel’scheckwasfromoutofstate,itneededafewdaystoclearatthebankbeforehecouldspendit.Marystillhadn’ttoldRobbyabouttheevictionnoticeortheapartment.Butitwasn’tfromfearofupsettinghimorprocrastinationoverdelivering the bad news. Actually she was trying to be strategic. AlthoughRobbycertainlymightbeupsetwhenhelearnedtheyweregoingtogetkickedout in roughlysevendaysand theyhadn’tpackedasinglebox,herdaddyhadalwaystoldhertopickhermomentscarefullywhenmakingasale.“Everybodyissellingsomething,”herdaddysaid.“Childrenselltheirparents

on staying up late. Parents sell their children on eating their vegetables.Employees sell their bosses on giving them a raise. And bosses sell theiremployeesonworkinghard.”NowMary felt she needed to sell Robby on how they should best use the

bonusmoneyfromSamuel.ShehadallowedhimtobaskinthejoyofSamuel’sbonusarriving.Nowthatthecheckhadcleared,however,sheknewshecouldn’twait any longer. Robby would be leaving the house to pay the landlord thismorningwithoutknowingthatthelandlordwasevictingthem.Hewasinforashockunlessshefessedupandimmediatelyrevealedthetruth.Itwas a beautiful day. The couple had enjoyed a lovelyweekend together.

Robby had made eggs and French toast for breakfast with the groceries hebought after secretly selling the hockey puck to Matt, which Mary hadn’t

mentionedyeteithertoavoidanydiscussionaboutit.Mary finished her breakfast and grabbedRobby by the hand. “I’ll clean up

since you cooked,” she told him, “but first I want to talk with you aboutsomething.”Maryledhimtothelivingroomsofa.Stillholdinghishand,shesaid,“Ihave

somegoodnewsandsomeratherbadnews.Pleasedon’tsayanythinguntilI’mdone,okay?”Thisrequestwasanotherpracticeshe’dlearnedfromherdad.Robbyagreedtolistenbeforesayinganything.“Well, the rather bad news is that last week while you were out, we were

servedanevictionnotice.”Robby’seyesopenedwide.Hegaspedlikehehadbeensuckerpunchedinthe

solar plexus. He was about to say something when Mary gently placed twofingersuptohismouth.“Wait!YoupromisedyouwouldwaituntilI’mdone.”Withgreatself-restraint,heswallowedhiswords.Hiseyeswerepoppingoutofhishead.“Because I couldn’t get hold of youbyphone after the sheriff gaveme the

notice—andI’lladmitthatIwasveryscaredandneededyouinthatmoment—IcalledCaroline,andshemetwithme.Shewastheperfectpersontohelpme,soitwasactuallygoodthatyouandIdidn’ttalkaboutit immediately.Wewouldbothhavebecomefearfulandpanicked,andthatwouldn’thaveallowedeitherofustothinkclearly.”Robbynoddedinagreement.Shecontinued.“Anyway,ratherserendipitouslyCarolineandIdiscoveredan

absolutelygorgeouscondominiumbythereservoirforrent.It’sonlyfiveyearsold. Ithasaviewof thewater. Ithasanofficedownstairsand thebedroomisupstairs, so it’s laidout just like thisplace,buta lotnicer.All theutilitiesareincluded.Plus,sinceit’sacondo,alltheyardworkandsnowshovelingisdonebythecondoassociation.”Shepaused.“Oh,italsohasaone-cargarage.”Robbybegantotalk,butMaryputherfingersuptohislipsagain.“Notyet,

honey,”shesaid.“Jenny,theowner,emailedmebeforebreakfastandsaiditisoursifwewantit.I’vealreadyfilledoutthelease.Onceyoutakealookattheplace,ifyouagreewithme,nineteenhundreddollarsisallweneedtotakeit.”“Nineteenhundreddollars?”heblurted.“Areyousurethat’scorrect?”“Yes,therentisonlyninefiftypermonth,andJennysaidweonlyneedtopay

thefirstmonth’srentandasecuritydeposit.Thatwouldleaveusenoughtopayallourotheroverduebillsandgetacleanstart.”Robbysquinted,whichMaryknewmeanthehadconcerns.“I canguesswhat you’re thinking—thatwe should see ifwe can stayhere.

ButJackplanstokickusoutnomatterwhat.Hehasn’tleftusanyoptions—not

thatIblamehimasalandlord.Still,Isuggestthatweusethemoneywejustgottomove into this new apartment.Otherwisewe’re going to pay our back rentandstillbebrokeandhavenoplace to live.WecanslowlypayJackwhatweowehim,alittleatatime,asweearnmoremoney.Isuggestwesendhimtenpercentofourincomeuntilourdebtispaidoff.”Robbylistened,afraidtosayanything.“Finally,CarolinesaidthatwhensheandMattmovedintotheirhouse,living

inamorebeautiful environmenthelped to improve their relationshipand theirfinancesbecause they feltnurturedbywhere they lived.Thenewhome raisedtheirenergyinawaythatimprovedmanyareasoftheirlifetogether.”Marypausedandthoughtforamomentaboutwhethershehadanythingmore

toadd.Robbystilldidn’tdaresayanything.“Okay,that’sit.That’sallIwantedtosay,”sheconcluded.Robby’s facewas impossible to read.Now thathe could talk, he sat on the

sofainsilence.Hethoughtaboutwhathehadlearnedfromthemalamanual.Hethoughtaboutallthemorningsandafternoonshehadpracticedwithhismalainhis officewith the door closed, on the rock by thewaterfall, andduring earlymorningwalks.HewonderedifhismalapracticewaswhySamuelhadsenttheunexpected bonus check.And he considered the possibility that itmight haveassistedMaryinfindingthecondoforrent,althoughtheideadidn’tmakemuchsensetohim.Robby also knew thatwhatMary said about the power of improving one’s

environment was absolutely true. He recalled a study he had read for apsychologyclasshe’dtakenincollegethatprovedit.A city decided to clean up the graffiti, the broken windows in vacant

buildings, and theoverall uglinessdue toneglect andvandalism to seehow itmightaffectthecommunity.Totheirsurprise,notonlydidtheresidentskeepthecityclean, theyalsobegan tohelpclean itup.Therewas less littering.Peoplebegan to sweep the sidewalksoutside their homesand shops.Andwhat reallysurprised the project committee was that crime rates, from misdemeanors tofelonies,droppedsignificantly.MaryawaitedRobby’sresponsewithherhandsclaspedinfrontofher.“Ican’tbelieveyouheldontothisforsolong,”hesaid.“Forthat,Iamsorry.

IhatethatIwasn’tabletohelpyouwiththis.ButIcanseeyou’vereallythoughtitthrough,andeverythingyou’vesaidmakesalotofsense.Ican’targueagainstyourreasoning.I’mreallyproudofyou,honey.”“Really?”saidMary.“Yes,however,Idon’tfeelcomfortablepayingJackovertimewhenwehave

themoneynow. I already feel tooguilty. Iknowhe’s evictingus, and Idon’t

blamehimfor thatconsideringweare threemonths late. Idon’twant tomakehimtheenemywhenwedidn’tpayourbillson time.Andmaybe, justmaybe,oncewepayhim,hemightgiveusasecondchanceandletusstay.”“Carolinedoesn’tthinkso,andneitherdoI.Plus,Iwanttomove.Waituntil

youseehowgorgeousthiscondois!”“That’snotreallythepoint.YouknowI’vetakenfinancialresponsibilityfor

ourrent,andsoIfeelresponsibleforthisdebttoJack.I’dlikeyoutosupportmeindoingwhatIfeelisright.Ithinkit’sonlyfairthatwedon’tmakeJackwaitforhismoney.Canyouunderstand?”“Iunderstandthatyou’reanhonestman,Robby.Iadmirethataboutyou.But

Idon’t believe it’s awise financial decision.Also, I neverwantedyou to feelyou have to pay the entire rent when I’m perfectly capable of working andcontributing. I’ll have a job soon; I’m sure of it. I really wish you wouldreconsider.”“What’srightandwhat’swisearen’talwaysgoingtobethesame.Ihaveto

dowhatIfeelisrightorIwon’tbeabletolivewithmyguiltyconscience.AndIbelieve that we’ll figure out some other way to get into that condo if you’recorrectaboutusgettingevictedevenafterIpayJack.”Robbygot off the couch andgrabbedhis checkbook and truckkeys off the

coffeetable.HekissedMaryontopofherheadasheleft.Shewasstaringatthefloorfeelingdisappointed.“Let’sjustseewhathappenswithJack.It’stherightthing to do,” he said as he opened the door, still looking at her. She didn’trespond,sohewalkedout.Marysatandwonderedwhereshe’dgonewrong.Shehadpreparedhercase

and executed it flawlessly, so she was thrown off balance by Robby’sunexpected decision. She did not anticipate that his need to do the right thingwouldoverridehis senseof logic and reason.Yet, inhindsight, sheknew thatRobbyhadalwaysbeen ledbyhisconscience.She’dalwaysknownthisabouthim.Sosherealizedthatsheshouldn’tbeoverlysurprisedbyit.NowshewasgoingtohavetofigureouthowtogetthemintoJenny’scondo

withoutherhusband’sbonusmoney.That’swhenhercellphonerang.ItwasMr.Jankowitz.Hewasbackatworkandstillwillingtobuyhermother’sring.This is the divine coincidence that Caroline mentioned, she thought after

hangingupthephone.Thisismymother’sspiritatwork,tellingmeit’sokaytosell the ring. There’s no way he would have called at this very momentotherwise.Marywalkedupstairsandgothermother’sringoutofherbedroomdresser.

Shekneeledinfrontofthepictureofhermotherthatwasonthesidetablenextto the bed. She held her mother’s ring for possibly the final time, her eyes

quicklywellingup, and silently prayed to her.Thank you,Mom, for this finalpartinggiftthathasbecomesosignificantatthistimeinmylife.IfthereisonethingIhavelearnedhowtodobecauseofyourpassing,itissurvive;andwhatIhavetodowiththisringnowisexactlythat:sellittoguaranteeourshelterandprovideuswithanevenbetterhomelifethanwehaveknownthusfar.Forthis,Iamgratefultoyou.Whoknewthatnearlytwodecadesafteryouleftthisworld,youwouldbeable

tohelpmeandmyhusbandsurviveanevictionandupgradetoabetterhomeallatthesametime?ThatishowIamchoosingtoviewwhatIamabouttodo,andwebothknowthatitwillnotaffecthowIfeelaboutyouorlessenmyconnectionwithyou.Thankyou,Mom.Iloveyou.Reluctantlyandwithagrievingheart,butwithcertaintythat itwastheright

thingtodo,MarydrovetoJankowitzJewelersandsoldhermother’sring.Mr.Jankowitzliveduptohispromiseofpayinghereighteenhundredincashforit.Thepaymentwas only a hundred short ofwhat sheneeded to pay Jenny, andtherewouldstillbeenoughinthejointcheckingaccounttocoverthatevenwithRobby paying all of the back rent to Jack in one lump sum out of his bonuscheck.OnceMaryleftthejewelrystore,shecalledJenny,whoagreedtofinalizethe

lease thatday.Maryknewshehad tocomplete thedealbeforeRobby learnedhowshegotthemoneytopayforit.Hewouldinsistonbuyingbacktheringforherotherwise.ShealsoknewRobbywasgoing to love theplace,sohewouldeventuallyforgetwhatshehadsacrificedinordertogetthere.“Well, I’m thrilled thatyoudecided to take theplace,Mary,”saidJenny.“I

lookforwardtomeetingyourhusband.”ShetookMary’scheckandhandedherareceipt.“WeshowedittofiveothercouplesovertheweekendandallIcouldthinkwas,IhopeMaryandRobbymovein.”Marystood in thekitchenof thecondominium that shehad just leased.She

knew she’dmade the right choice. Instead of feeling connected to hermotherthrough the ring, she would feel her mother’s presence throughout thecondominium.“Canwemoveinatanytime?”sheaskedJenny.“Yes.Wemovedmyfather’sfurnitureoutonSaturday,soyoudon’tneedto

wait until the first of the month. If you can move in on a weekday duringbusinesshours,there’llbefewerneighborsaroundtogetinthewayofthetruckandsoforth.Here,Imadetwosets,”JennysaidasshehandedMarythekeys.“Thankyou.This is reallyniceofyou,”Marysaidquietlyasshestaredout

thewindowoverlookingthereservoir.

“Iseverythingallright,dear?Youdon’tseemashappyasyoudidtheotherday,”saidJenny.“No,I’mfine.I’mjustthinkingaboutmymotheralottoday,butnotinabad

way.I’mveryhappyaboutmovinginhere.”JennygrabbedholdofMaryandgaveherasqueeze.“Iunderstand,dear,and

I’dliketosayonething.Iknowthatnoonecaneverreplaceyourmother,butifyoueverneedanoldwoman to talk to…I’mretired, so Ihavea lotofextratimefortalking.Okay?”Marysmiled.“Thatwouldbe lovely.Wecan talkwhile I teachyouhow to

paint.”“That’sperfect.It’saplan.”Mary left peacefully knowing that Jenny’s condo was going to be a good

changeforherandRobby.Whenshearrivedhome,Robbyhadalreadyreturnedfrompayingthelandlord.Hewaswatchingtelevisionandsaidhelloverysoftlyassheentered.“You’requiet,”shesaid.“EverythinggoallrightwithJack?”“Yes.Hewasverysurprisedtoseeme.Hewasalittlestandoffishatfirst,but

hewarmeduponceheknewIwastheretopayhim.”“Okay,sowhytheglumface?”“Youwere right.He stillwants us out nextweek.Doingwhat’s right is its

ownreward,Iguess.Idofeelgoodabout that. It’saweightoffmyshoulders.OnlynowIhaveanewone.Youthinkanotherclientwillsendabonuscheck?”hejoked.Maryputherpurseonthekitchencounter,grabbedthereceiptJennygaveher,

andwalked over to sit next to Robby. She handed him the receipt as she satdown.“What’sthis?”hesaidashereadit.“Idon’tunderstand.Isthisareceiptfor

thecondoyoutalkedabout?”Maryhadabigsmileonherfaceasshenoddedherheadedupanddownin

excitement.“How?”“Howdoesn’tmatter.Thepointisthatwe’removingintoabeautifulcondo,

andyougottopayJackwhatweowehimlikeyouwanted.”Robbysatupstraightonthesofa,staredherstraightintheeyes,andraisedhis

eyebrows.“ButIwanttoknowhow.”“Well, you sold your hockey puck to buy groceries, so I sold something of

minetogetthecondo.”Robbylookedathersquinting.“What?Hockeypuck?Howdidyou…?Oh

right,Caroline!MatttoldCaroline,andCarolinetoldyou.Butwhatdidyouown

thatwasworththismuch?”Marydidn’tanswer.HethoughtaboutwhatMaryownedthatmightbeworth

aroundnineteenhundreddollarsandsuddenlyitoccurredtohim.Thering.“Ohhnoo.Youdidn’t.Thatwastheonlyitemyouhadofyourmother’s.”The

newsgaveRobby’sinnercriticanopportunitytoshamehim.Thisismyfault.Ishould have listened toMary andnot paid Jack right away.Whydo I alwayshavetodothingsmyway?Lookwhereit’sgotme.AndnowMarysoldherringbecauseofit.MaryknewfromhisfacethatRobbywasbeatinghimselfupinside.“I’mokay

withit,really.I’vegivenitalotofthought.Untilrecently,Ihadn’tpulledthatringoutmydresserforyears.”LookingatMaryandher senseofcalmand resolve,Robbyknewhehad to

trustheronthisone.HepulledMaryclosetohimandkissedthetopofherhead.“Wecanfindanotherway,youknow.Wecanmarchrightbackinthereandgetthat ring back. I’ll make a deal with him to clean the store for a year orsomething.HecankeeptheringascollateraluntilIworkitoff.”Marysatupstraight,onehandonRobby’sarm.“No.ThewayIlookatit,my

motherhelpedusgetintoanewhome.Howamazingisthat?Andjustwaituntilyouseeit.Thiscondoisthebeginningofournewlife.”Marystoodup,grabbingRobby’shandandpullinghimoffthesofa.Sheled

himintothehallwayandopenedaclosetdoor.Shereachedintothecloset,andbeforepullingoutwhateveritwasthatshewantedtoshowhim,shesaid,“Justso youknow that Iwill never forgetmymother’s ring…”She brought out acanvas upon which she had painted her mother’s hands praying, wearing thering.Robbystoppedbreathingforamoment.Hiseyesbecameglossy.Heputhis

armaroundhershouldersashestaredatthepainting.“It’sabsolutelyexquisite.”Marybeamed,hereyestearinguptoo.RobbytookMary’shandsandheldtheminfrontofhimashelookedherin

the eyes. “You’re amazing, honey. There isn’t a day that goes by where youdon’t surprise me with some remarkable way of looking at life.With all thehardships you’ve endured, you still manage to find the optimistic perspectiveratherthanactingasavictim.YouaretheexampleofthehumanbeingIstrivetobe.”Hepaused.“Thankyou,mylove.I’mgratefulforwhatyouhavedone.”Robbypickedupthepaintingandbroughtitintothelivingroom.“SoIhave

onlyonequestionforyou.”“What’sthat?”shesaid.Withastraightfaceheasked,“Howmuchdoyouthinkwecangetforit?”Marygaspedinjestandslappedhisshoulderwiththebackofherhand.“You

wanttogoseethecondo?”“Sure!Let’sfindtheperfectwallforthis.It’llbethefirstitemwemovethere.

Ithinkit’sonlyappropriate.”

DAVEANDROBBYsatinthehospitalcafeteriaeatinglunch.Thesoundofsilverwaretouchingplates,glassesclinkinginthekitchen,chairsscrapingacrossthefloor,andpeoplechatteringwithoneanotherechoedoffthepaintedconcreteblockwalls.Itwasthefirst timethefatherandsonhadseenoneanothersincethedaytheysatinthehospitalcourtyardtalkingaboutthemalabeadsfromtheattic.Robby broke the silence. “Dad, I can’t believe they’re releasing you today.

Threeweeksagoyouwereconfinedeithertoabedorawheelchair.Nowyou’redressedandwalkingaround?Geez,youdon’tevenlooklikethesameperson.”“It’samazingwhatthebodycandowhenthemindisfocusedonhealth,”said

Dave.FatherBurkewalked into thecafeteriaandspottedDave.Hewalkedbehind

himandput his hands onDave’s shoulders.Dave lookedbehindhim, smiled,andputhishandoveroneofBurke’s.“FatherBurke!Nicetoseeyou.”“Dave,Ithinkit’stimeyoustartedcallingmeJonathan,”saidtheminister.Davelaughed.“Tobehonest,Ithinkthatshiphassailed,Father…yousee,

there I go again. Besides, I like calling you Father. I respect the life you’vechosen.Itjustfeelsright…ifit’sokaywithyou.”“Of course it’s okay,” saidBurke. “It really doesn’tmatter tomewhat you

callme.I justdidn’twantyoutofeel it’snecessary,especiallynowthatwe’refriends.”

DavelookedatRobby.“Son,Iwantyoutomeetagoodfriendofmine.ThisisFatherBurke.Father,thisismyson,Robby.”RobbystoodtoshakeFatherBurke’shand.He’dneverknownhisfathertobe

religious,sohecouldn’timaginehowheknewthismanwearingawhitecollar.“Nicetomeetyou,Robby.Yourfatherhastoldmealotofnicethingsabout

you.Ihearyou’reawriter.”“Nicetomeetyou,too.Howdoyouknow…”“The father here writes as well,” Dave interrupted. “He writes beautiful

poetry.”Burke waved off the compliment. “I’m an amateur. Look, I don’t want to

interrupt.Justwantedtosayhello.I’mgoingtomissthisguy,”hesaidtoRobby,pattingDaveontheshoulder.“I’llseeyounextThursday,”Daveremindedhim.TurningtoRobby,hesaid,

“I’mtakingFatherBurketoMechanicsHallfortheGregorianchantconcert.”“Thatoughttobefun.Notmything,butit’srightupyouralley,Dad.”“Mineaswell,”saidtheminister.“I’mlookingforwardtoit.”TheysaidtheirgoodbyesandFatherBurkewentuptothefoodline.“Youtoldmeyouweren’treligious,Dad.WhatamImissinghere?”“ThefatherhelpedmeoutwhileIwashere.Webecamefriends.It’stheoldest

religion, son: friendship. If it weren’t for him, I might not be leaving thisquickly.He’sagoodman.”Robbywassilent.Hepickeduphis tuna fishsandwichandwipedaglobof

ketchupofftheplatewithit.Davegrimaced.“Ican’tbelieveyoustillputketchuponyourtunafish.Who

doesthat?DidMomteachyouthat,becauseIcertainlydidn’t?”His father’s comment triggered the memory of Robby’s dream where his

mothervisitedhim.Hewas tempted to tellhisdadabout itbut feltcertainhisdad wouldn’t believe it was real. The dream was sacred and comforting toRobby,sohedidn’twanthisdadtoruinitforhim.Hedecidednottomentionit.“Howarethingsgoingwithyou?”askedDave,interruptingRobby’sthoughts.

“Areyoustillusingthemala?”“Isuream.”Robbypulledthemalaoutofhispocketandhelditintheairto

provehehaditwithhim.“TwiceadayandonanyotheropportunityIcanfind.I’mondaytwenty-twoofmyforty-daycommitment.”“That’sgreat.Haveyouseenanyresults?”“I’llsay.SinceIlastsawyou,we’vemovedintoabetterapartment.Igotan

unexpectedbonuscheckfrommylastclient.AndIgotanewghostwritingjobalittleoveraweekago.DaleDavenportendeduphiringmeafterall.Heck,evenMarygotajobatahigh-endjewelrystoreinthecity.”

“No kidding? You’ve had a productive three weeks. Good for you, son. Ididn’tevenknowMarywaslookingforajob.”“Well,she’salwaysbeenlooking,butsheseemedtogetmoreseriousaboutit

afewweeksagowhenshetoldmehernextgoalwastofindajobinaplacethatwouldappreciatehertalents.”Dave’smouthwasfull,buthemanagedtogetout,“Thatwasagoodgoalto

set.”“She’s been very goal oriented lately, ever since we moved into the new

condo.IthinkMatt’swife,Caroline,hasbeeninfluencingher.Sheseemshappy,andthat’sallIcareabout.”Dave sat up straight when he heard Caroline’s name. “Is this the Caroline

FresnothatMattwasdating?Theygotmarried,right?”“Yeah, well she’s Caroline Mooney now since the wedding. How do you

knowhermaidenname?”“Shewas one ofmy students when I taught philosophy atWorcester State

College.Shewasinmymetaphysicsclassandreallytooktoit.”“No way!” Robby was surprised he hadn’t known about this. He actually

hadn’teverknownthathisfathertaughtametaphysicsclass.“She’s a bright girl. I encouraged her to teach her own class when she

graduated. I remember that she really took to the principles of intention backthen.Iwonderwhatshedoesnow.”Davetookanotherbiteofhissandwich.“I’mnotsure, tobehonest,”saidRobby.“IknowshehelpsMattoutat the

store. But he often mentions her teaching workshops about something. I’veneverpaid toomuchattention towhat that is.Maybe it’s goal settingbecauseMaryseemsverygoalfocusednowadays.”“Are you sure she’s not intention focused rather than goal focused?” asked

Dave.Robbylaughed,notrealizingthathisfatherwasbeingserious.“Idon’tthink

Maryknowsaboutsettingintentions,Dad.”DavesuspectedthatCarolinehadtakenhisadvice.Shemustbeteachingher

own practical workshops on intention rather than teaching the subjectacademically at the college, he thought silently.Clever. I wish I’d thought ofdoingthat.Dave’s thoughtswere interruptedwhenaplatehit the floorbehindhimand

wobbledtoastop.Anelderlywomanusingawalkerhadtriedcarryinghertrayup to the trash bin on her own and was now sprawled out on the floor.Silverwareandnapkinswerespreadacrossthefloor,andthewomanwassittinginapoolofspilledwaterfromheroverturnedcup.Robby jumped up to help her. The woman was laughing hysterically at

herself.“Areyouallright?”askedRobby.“Youcandressmeup,butyoucan’ttakemeout,”shesaidandgiggled.“Areyousureyou’renothurt?”“Mypridemayneedsurgery,” shesaid,“but I’mfine ifyou’ll justhelpme

up.”RobbyandDavehelpedthewomantoastandingposition.WhileDavemade

sureshewasstable,Robbypickedupthetray,plate,silverware,andemptycup.Heusedthenapkinstocleanupwhatlittlewaterhadn’talreadysoakedintoherbathrobe.“Oh, thank you. I thought I could balance it, but thiswalker is still new to

me.”“I’m just glad you’re okay,”Robby told herwhile hemade hisway to the

receptaclestandtothrowawaythetrashandputthedishesinthebin.ThewomanlookedatDave.“Isthatyourson?”“He’sallmine.”“Youraisedhimright.”“I can’t take thecredit,but thankyou. I’llprobablykeephim.Hecanwalk

youtoyourroomifyou’dlike.”“IcanmanageaslongasI’mnotjugglinganything,”shesaid,laughing.She

thankedRobbyandDaveandslowlyleftthecafeteria.“Son,youjustwitnessedthesecrettoahappylife.”“What’sthat?Walkingwithawalker?”“No.Not takingyourself too seriously.Didyou see theway she laughedat

herselfafterfallingandsittinginapoolofwater?”“Idid.Shehadmelaughing.”“Justkeepherinmindthenexttimeyoutakeaspillinlife—andI’mnotjust

talkingaboutfallingonyourkeister.”“Igetit.Thatreallywasprettyamazing.She’sagoodexamplefortherestof

us.”Thefatherandsonwatchedthewomanassheslowlymadeherwayoutinto

thehallandwaitedfortheelevator.“SofinishyourstoryaboutMary.What’sthisnewjobshegot?”askedDave.“Right.Soshetoldmeabouthergoalofgettingajobwherehertalentswould

be appreciated. Next thing I know, she ran into some lady she knows, Evasomethingorother,whoworksat that jewelry storeMary loves that’sbeen inGreendale for like forever.Eva told her that the clerk they hadworking therewasquitting.TheyneededsomeoneinahurryandEvathoughtMarywouldbeperfectforthejob.

“Sofarshelovesit.MostofthetimesheworkswithEva,whomsheadores.Theowner’sabitofagrump.I’veonlymethimonce.Buthe’smakingjewelryin thebasementmostof the time.Sheevengetsa fifty-percentdiscountonallthe jewelry.Mary’s thrilled. Itwasquiteacoincidencehow itallhappenedsoquicklyafterMarysethergoal.”“Dotheyappreciatehertalentslikesheintended?”“Yeah!Theowner’steachingherhowtodesignjewelry,andshe’slovingit.”Daveputthepiecestogetherinhishead.Let’ssee:First,Caroline,astudent

ofminefromyearsagowhohadaknackfortheprinciplesofintention,isnowteachingworkshops of her own. Second, she’s been teaching her friendMarywhatsheknows.Andthird,Mary“coincidentally”getstheexactjobshedesiressoonaftershelearnswhatCarolineteachesher.Hewassureheknewwhatwasgoingon,butitwasalsoobvioustohimthatRobbydidn’thaveaclue.Robby and Mary must both be using the power of intention to create the

realitiestheydesire,yetneitheroneknowstheotherisdoingit.Davefoundthesituation comical. Still, he knew it wasn’t his place to connect the dots forRobby.He trusted that his sonwouldput thepicture together himselfwhen itwasmeanttohappen.Aloudhesaid,“That’sprettyamazing,son.I’mhappyforyouboth.”“Thanks,Dad.”Robbycleanedupthelastdropsofketchupwiththefinalbite

ofhissandwichandthenatetheremainingpotatochipsonhisplate.Davetookadeepbreathlikehewasfullandpackeduphistray.Helookedat

hiswatch.“NurseBetsysaiditwouldbeawhilelongerbeforemyreleasepapersareready.Let’sjustsitoutsideforanotherfewminutes.I’vespentwaytoomuchtimeonthethirdfloor.I’dratherwaitoutinthesun.”“That’sfine.There’sadooroverhere.”Theyputawaytheirtrash,trays,andutensils,andwalkedoutside.Theywere

surprisedtoseeasittingareaoutsidethecafeteria.Thereweresixpicnictableson a red brick patio. Two of the tables were occupied with nurses, men andwomen,somesmokingcigarettes.“Ifwehadknown,itwouldhavebeennicetositouthere,”Davecommented.“Except for all the smoke.Youknow,you can light up if youwant,Dad. I

won’tgiveyouahardtime.”Dave laughed. “The last butt I had was the one you saw me smoke three

weeksago.Ididn’tgetbetterthisquicklybysmokingcigarettes.Totellyouthetruth,nowthatI’vequit,thesmellofcigarettesmokeisenoughtomakemelosemylunch.”“Youwanttoleave?”“No,I’mfine.It’ssuchaniceday.”

Oneof thenurses looked at herwatch, and suddenly all six people in blue,pink,andpurplescrubspackeduptheirbelongingsandwalkedinside.DaveandRobbymovedtooneofthetableswherethenurseshadbeensittingbecauseitwas theonly tablewithsunon it.Theysatquietlyoneither sideof thepicnictable,baskingintheraysforafewminutes.Robbyrememberedthathehadsomethinghewantedtoaskhisfather.“You

wererightlasttimeIwashere,Dad.Idon’twanttobewritingbooksforotherpeopleanymore.”“Icanunderstandthat.”“I’m feeling it more than ever. Dale keeps cancelling our scheduled

interviews,whichcouldpossiblyturnthissix-monthjobintoayearlongjobifhekeepsitup.AndIhaveafeelinghe’susedtodoingwhateverhewantsnomatterhowitaffectsotherpeople.”“I’veheardthatsomecelebritiescanbethatway,son.”“It’snotjustDale’sbehavior.EversinceI’vebeenpracticingthemala,Ikeep

gettinga lineofpeoplewhowant tohireme toghostwrite theirbooks.That’sgreat, I know, but it’s not what I want anymore. Now that I knowmy malapracticeworks,howcanIusethemalatomakealivingwritingmyownbooksinsteadofwritingthemforotherpeople?”“You’rereallyfeelingit,huh?Imean,theitchtowriteyourownbooks?”“Ihaveforalongtime.Untilthisyear,however,Ipushedthatdreamdown,

not believing itwas possible.Truth be told, I loved ghostwriting the first fewtimesIdidit.ButnowthatI’veseenwhatispossibleusingmymala,Ihaveaglimmerofhope that Imight actuallybe able to livemyoriginaldream.Thattinybitofhopesetlooseadesireinsideofmethatnowachestogetout.Bynotpushingitdownanymore,Ihaverealizedthatit’sreallymoreofaneedthanadesire.My soul-level craving to expressmyself has been the sourceof a low-leveldepressionfortoolong.”Dave leaned his arms on the table in front of Robby. “That’s a powerful

realization.”Robbycontinued.“Myheartandsoulhavelongedforthecreativefulfillment

ofwritingmyownbooks,yetmyongoingbeliefthatitwasn’tpossible—atleastnotforme—crushedthatlonging,soIremainedinaself-inflictedprisonwhereIwroteotherpeople’sbooksratherthanmyown.InowseehowcruelIwasbeingtomyself,andquitefrankly,Dad,ifIdon’tfindawaytofulfillmydream,I’mafraid of how this unfulfilled expression will manifest in my health and myrelationships.Ibelieveitcouldleadtoachronicdepression.”“That’s a life-changing insight, son—and what a perfect example of what

happenswhenwegofromsleepingthroughlife toself-awareness.Fortunately,

you’verealizedthisearlyinyourlife.IbelieveIcanhelpyou.Tellme,what’stheintentionyousetandwhatmantrahaveyoubeenusingwithyourmala?”“Ijustsettheintentiontoattractmoreabundanceintomylife,moremoney.

Andthis is themantraI’vebeenusing.”Robbypulled themalabookletoutofhispocketandshowedhisfathertheSanskritabundancemantrahe’dbeenusing.Davereadthemantraoutloud.“OmshrimmahaLakshmiyeiswaha.Ialways

likedthatone.”Hehandedthemanualbacktohisson.“Wellthatmakessense.You’vebeenaskingforabundance,whichyou’vebeengetting,butyouhaven’tguided Creative Intelligence to what form you’d like that abundance to take.Youneedonlymakea simpleadjustment that I call ‘beingmore specificwithyourintention.’”“YoumeanIshouldinventamoredetailedintention?”“Exactly.Creative Intelligence actually prefers it.And you can do this in a

fewdifferentways.First,youcanjustthinkabout,ortellsomeone,thedetailsofyourintention.What’smostimportantisthatyouknowthespecifics,solistingtheminyourmindortellingsomeoneverballyissufficient.“Second, and amore effectivemethod, is towrite down exactly howyou’d

likeyourintentiontolook,feel,smell,taste,sound,andbe.Ifyourintentionistoattractapublishingcontract,forexample,writedownwhatpublishingcompanyyouwould like to publishyour book,what the title of your bookwill be, andwhat your book is about. Go so far as to write how much you want for anadvance,what percentageof the profits youdesire, andhow long the contractwillgiveyoutowriteyourbook.”Davestaredblanklyinthoughtforafewsecondsandthencontinued.“Always

endyourdetailedintentionwith,‘Thisorsomethingbetter.’Youneverwanttolimit the Universe. Plus, you might be limiting yourself depending on yourbeliefs,sointending‘Thisorsomethingbetter’givesCreativeIntelligenceyourendorsementtogobeyondyourownimagination.”“Ilikethatidea,”saidRobby.“Third, or in addition to the first and secondmethods, you can write each

detail on a note card or stickynote.Thiswayyou can spreadout all the notecardsonyourdesk,orstickthestickynotestoawall,andreallygetavisualinyourmindofalltheelementsofyourdetailedintention.”“That’sacoolideaaswell,Dad.Ilikebeingabletoseeeverythinginfrontof

meinthatway.Ithelpsmerememberit.”“ThemoredetailsyougivetheUniverse,themorelikelyit isthatyou’llget

exactlywhat youwant.Whenever you leave a detail out, theUniverse has toguessonthatparticular.Ifyouallowthistohappen,you’llgetsomeversionofyourintention,butitprobablywon’tcomeoutexactlythewayyou’dpreferitto

be.”“Isee,”Robbyinterjected.“It’skindoflikechoosingavacationdestination.

If I justdrive in thedirectionIwant togo, I’llget in therightvicinitybutnotnecessarilyreachtheexactaddressIdesiretogo.ButifIfindtheexactlocationIwantonthemapandcircleit,I’llgotothatexactspot.Isthatit?”“I thinkyou’vegot it.What’swonderful is thatyouhavealreadyusedyour

abundancemantratoattractgreaterwealthwithremarkablesuccess.Soyou’veproven toyourself thatyourmalapracticeworks—and inonlya fewweeks toboot. Now you just need to take it to the next level. It’s time to makeadjustmentstofine-tuneyourintentionandgiveitmoreelements.Andbydoingthat,you’lltellCreativeIntelligenceexactlywhatyouwant,notjustsortofwhatyouwant.”Robbytookoutatinynotepadandpenandbeganwritingdownsomenoteson

whathisfatherhadjusttaughthim.“Doyoualwayskeepanotepadwithyou?”“I have to. I’m always thinking of ideas formybooks, and if I don’twrite

themdownIforget.RightnowI’mjustmakingnotesaboutwhatyousaid.”“Honestly,Idon’tthinkyou’llforget.Keepitsimple,son.Thelastthingyou

wanttodoismakeitcomplicated.”Robbytookhisadviceandputthenotepadinhisbackpocket.“Okay,Dad,I

understandaboutaddingtomyintention.WhatIdon’tunderstandishowtotakewhatI’vewrittenandturnthatintoanewmantratousewithmymala.Isn’tallthatdetailtoolongforamantra?”“Youbetitis.Andthat’sagreatquestion.Youcancontinuetousethesame

mantrayou’vebeenusingorcreateanewone,butnowyoumerelyneedtothinkofwhatyouwroteindetailwhenyourepeatyourmantraonehundredandeighttimesusingthemala,whichwillhappennaturally.“Becauseyou’vealready thoughtabout thedetails,evenwritten themdown,

youknowtheparticularsofyourintention.Youdon’tneedtorepeateverydetailoverandover.Youcoulddecideupononewordthatrepresentsforyouwhatyouwroteindetail,andthatwouldbeallthatisrequired.Forexample,youcouldsay‘book’or‘bookdeal’torepresenttheintentiontogetapublisherforyournovel.As long as you know the full meaning of the intention that your one-wordmantrarepresents,CreativeIntelligencewillreadyourmind,sotospeak.”“Ilovethatidea,andIlookforwardtoextendingthedetailsofmyintention.

I’mgoingtodoittonight,”saidRobby.Davelookedathiswatch.“Want toseeifmyreleaseformsarereadyat the

nurse’sstation?”“Youbet!”saidRobby.

Dave and Robby walked through the cafeteria and into the hall to theelevators,which they rode to the third floor.At the third floornurses’ station,Davesaidhisgoodbyestohisnurses,Paula,Betsy,andSarah.PaulagaveDaveabighugwearingasadface.“You’regoingtomissme,huh?”heaskedher.“Oh sure, like those tenpounds I lost last year,” she teased, notwanting to

admitshelikedhiscompany.“Listen,Paula,Iappreciateallyou’vedoneformearoundhere.Itwasreally

niceofyoutoarrangeforFatherBurketotakemetothechapel.”Paulakissedhimonthecheekandscurrieddownthehall.DaveandRobbyleftthehospitalandfoundRobby’struckintheparkinglot.

Robbythrewhisfather’ssuitcaseinthebackofhispickupanddrovethemdownRoute295throughWorcester,thenonRoute195towardWestBoylstonwhereDavelived.Davelovedseeingthetrees,fields,andfarmsalong195.“Dad,canIaskyouaquestion?”saidRobby.“Sure,son,anything.”“Whydidn’tyouteachmeanyofthisbefore?I’dprobablybealotfurtherin

mylifenowifyouhad.”“First of all, life is not a race, Robby. It’s simply an experience. If you’re

experiencing life,you’reon the right track.This includesnegativeexperiencesalongwithpositiveones.Nobodyismovinginthewrongdirection.Everyoneisexactlywheretheyshouldbeateverymoment.”“Okay.Butthat’snotwhatIasked.”“Iknow,butit’simportantenoughthatIhadtosayitfirst.Now,second,asI

toldyouafewweeksago,youneverasked.Ofcourse,Iknowthat’sstillnottheansweryou’relookingfor.Inallhonesty,themainreasonIdidn’tteachyouthisstuffearlierisbecauseyouweren’topentoit.”Robbycockedhisheadback,lookingathisdad.“Holdon, son.Don’t beoffended.Youknow it’s true.Ever sinceyou took

that journalismcourse incollege,you’veseenyourselfasaskeptic.Andsinceyouwouldn’tacceptanythingyoucouldn’tprovewithevidence,youwereneveropentoconsideringwhatI’vebeenteachingyoulately.Metaphysicsisallabouttheunseen—theinvisible.Thetruthis,Iapproachedthesubjectwithyouafewtimesandyouwerealwaysquicktodismissit.”Although Robby was a little annoyed, he knew his father was right. He

regrettedaskingthequestion.“To answer your question: You weren’t ready because you didn’t believe.

Yourmindwasclosedtodiscoveringthetruth.Thefactisthatonedoesn’thavetobelievetodiscoverthemagicofthemalaandintention.Oneonlyneedstobe

opentodifferentpossibilities.“Said another way, one needs to admit that one doesn’t know everything.

Sometimesweneed to fallonourheinies in lifebeforewe’rewilling toadmitour limitations andopenourminds.That’s certainlyyour storymore recently,and it’s an age-old story, so don’t be embarrassed. You’re in good company.Plentyofpeoplehavedonethesamething.”DavepattedRobby’sthighwithalookofprideasRobbydrove.“You’reonly

thirty-twoyearsold,son.You’rewayaheadofthegameincomparisontomeatyourage.Ididn’twakeupuntilmyearlyforties.Alotofpeopledon’thavetheirawakeningsuntilmucholder.Andstillothersneverwakeup to theirability tocreatewith their thoughts,words,andactions,which is fine, too,although lifegetsaloteasierwhenwedo.”Robbydroveintohisfather’sdrivewayfeelingabithumbled.Onlyamoment

agohehadbeenfeelingfrustratedwithhis father fornot tellinghimabout themala sooner. Now he realized that he only had himself to blame. He wasrealizingthatinthelastfewminuteshehadgonefromfeelingfrustratedwithhisfather, to feeling regret that he had asked his father why he’d withheld hiswisdomfromhim,tonowfeelinggratitudethathehadopenedhismindtothissubjectatall.Gratitude, he thought to himself. It sure feels a whole lot better than

frustrationandregret.With thatsplendidrealization,heshutoff theengineofhispickuptruckandcarriedhisfather’sbelongingsintothehouse.

MARYWALKEDINTOtheMarriottHotel.Thefrontdeskwasontheright,a bar to the left, and a couple of high-end shops straight ahead. As her eyesadjustedfromthebrightoutdoorsuntothedarkerinterior,shenoticedasignjustinsidethedoorthatread:TheIntentionWorkshop–Room113.WiththehelpofaMarriottemployee,shefoundtheroomlocatedacrossfromtheindoorpool.Insidetheroomwereaboutthirty-fivepeople,mostlywomenofallagesanda

few middle-aged men. Mary found a seat in the back. At the front of theclassroomstoodCaroline,whowaspreparing somepapers at thepodium.Shewaslookingsharpinalightbluejacket,whiteblouse,andaknee-highskirtthatmatchedthejacket.ShelookedupandsawMary,andimmediatelywalkedtothebackoftheroomtosayhello.“I’msogladyoucame,”shesaidasshehuggedMary.“Ireallythinkyou’regoingtogetalotoutofit.”“I’mhappytobehere.Howareyoudoing?”“I always get excited before I give a workshop. Hey, howwould you feel

about sharing your story about getting evicted and then finding that superawesomecondoyounowlivein?It’sagreatexampleofhowintentionworks.”Mary squirmed in her chair. “Really? I don’t know. I’ve never spoken

publiclybefore.”Carolinestaredather,pouting.Marygavein.“Okaythen,Iguess.WillyouhelpmeoutifIcrashandburn?”Laughing,Carolineassuredhershe’dbegreatbutthatshewoulddefinitelybe

thereforherifsheneededit.ShegaveMary’sshoulderasqueezeandranbackuptothepodiumtobegintheworkshop.CarolinebeganbytellingthestoryofhowsheandMatthadusedthepowerof

intentionandattentiontogofrombroketofinancialsecurityinjustafewyears.Sheexplainedthatwhatshewasabouttoteachwasthousandsofyearsoldandnotsomenew-fangledfad.“The techniques we’re here to explore have been called New Thought, the

Science ofMind, and the Law of Attraction, but they are both none of thesethings and all of these things together. The big-picture reality is that thesetechniques are the basis of physical manifestation, which always begins withthought.“What you’re about to learn is not solely about money or material

possessions.Thesesameprinciplescanbeusedtoimproveyourhealthandyourrelationships, attractmore happiness into your life, and even havemore innerpeace.However,Iwilltalkmostlyaboutmoneyandmaterialmanifestationsforacouplereasons.One,almosteveryonewantsmoremoney,right?”Thepeopleintheaudienceagreed.“Two,attractingmoremoneyintoyourlifeisapracticethatquicklyteaches

youifyou’reutilizingtheprinciplesproperly.It’stheperfectmeasuringsticktoseeifwhatyou’redoingisworking.“Three,onceyou’vemasteredusingwhat I teach in thisworkshop tocreate

moremoney,you’llautomaticallyknowhowtousetheseprinciplestofulfillanyotherdesire.”Caroline explained intention and attention just as she’d taughtMary a few

weeks prior. Then she introducedMary. “My friend here has one of themostextraordinary stories exemplifying thepower that intentionandattentionholdsfor eachofus.She’s agreed to shareher storywithyouhere today. I ask thateveryonelistenwithrespectandgratitudesinceMarywillbesharingsomeverypersonalandemotionalexperiences.Okay,thefloorisyours,Mary.”Marystoodupandbegan tellingher story.At first shespokesoftlyandher

voicecrackedafewtimes.Yetthefurthershegotintothestory,thestrongerhervoicegrew.Bythetimeshewasdone,severalwomenandonemanintheclasswerewiping tears fromtheircheeks.At theend,everyonegaveherastandingovationandpeoplearoundherwerethankingher.Onceeveryonewasseatedagain,amaninhissixtiesraisedhishand.Caroline

responded,“Yes,Tony?”Tonystoodandsaid,“ThespeedatwhichMarycreatedherintention,readher

affirmation,andthenlearnedaboutthebulletinboardnoticeregardingthecondoforrentseemslightningfast. I’mnotbeingskeptical. I’mjustwondering,how

doweknowwhensomethingisrealorwhenit’samerecoincidence?”“That’sa fantasticquestion,”saidCaroline.“Let’snot forget thatMaryalso

tookactionwhenshejokedtothewaitressaboutwantinganewapartmentwithherhotfudgesundaebecausetheactioninherstoryissignificantaswell.Buttoansweryourquestion…whenwesetanintention,writeitdownindetaillikeItaught earlier, turn it into an affirmation or amantra—which are basically thesamething—andthentakeactiontowardthemanifestationofthatintention,allthistogetherisuscommunicatingtotheUniverse.Thatspeedsthingsalong.“Ialsoliketothinkthatweeachhaveourownguardianangelsorspiritguides

thatassistusduringourlifetime,soifthatimageworksbetterforyouusethatinstead. Justkeep inmind that thoseguardianangelsorguidesareworking inpartnership with the Universe using the same laws of energy that we’rediscussing.”Carolinemovedoutfrombehindthepodiumtostandclosertothestudentsin

theirchairs.Shelookedatthepeopleseated,oneatatime,asshespoke.“Tonyaskedaboutcoincidence.Ipersonallydon’tthinkofcoincidenceinthewaymostpeople refer to it. I can only speak from what I know using my own directexperiences. Intention and attention are our ways of communicating to theUniverse.We’ve already discussed that.What I haven’t taught you is that theUniversealsocommunicatesbacktous.Itdoesthisinfourdifferentways.”Shewaitedwhileseveralpeoplegrabbedtheirpensandpadstobegintaking

notes. When they seemed ready, she continued. “The first way the Universecommunicatestous,orguidesus,isthroughcoincidence.Nowsomemightcallthisserendipity,synchronicity,ordivinecoincidence.Butwhatitisnotismerehappenstanceorafluke.Whentwoormoreeventsoccur thathavenoobviousrelationtooneanotheryetresult inameaningfulconnectionorresult, that isasignfromtheUniversetopayattention.“Coincidence requires our awareness to notice it, first, and also some

interpretationonourpart,second.ThecoincidencemightbetheUniverse’swayofmakinguspayattentiontosomethingelsethatishappeningorbeingsaidinthatmoment.Forexample,youmightbetalkingaboutcallingyourmotherand—BLAM!—an acorn hits your windshield like a bullet. If that happens, I’ddefinitelycallyourmother.”Severalpeoplelaughed.“ThecoincidencemightalsobetheUniverse’swayofputtingemphasisonan

importantmessage.Ifyoucrosspathswithafriendwhotellsyoushe’sgoingtoanintentionworkshop,thenyourfathermentionsanadhesawinthelocalpaperabouttheupcomingintentionworkshop,andthenyoudrivebyasigninfrontoftheMarriott that reads ‘IntentionWorkshop Today,’ I believe that’s a strong

signalthatyou’resupposedtoattendthatworkshop.”Therewasmorelaughterfromtheclassroom.“We’re talking about present-moment awareness here. When you focus on

what’shappening in frontofyouat themoment, rather than focusingonwhathappenedinthepastorwhatmighthappeninthefuture,you’regoingtobemoreopento—orawareof—themessagestheUniverseisputtinginyourpath.”Carolinewalkedfromtherighttotheleftsideoftheroom,lookingpeoplein

the eyes as she asked, “Does everyoneunderstand coincidence beingonewaytheUniversecommunicatestous?”Peoplenodded.Acoupleofvoicesquietlysaid,“Yes”and“Yup.”“All right then, the second form of communication, or guidance, that the

Universesendsusismessengers.Messengersareoftenpeople,buttheycanalsobe animals and insects, and yes, even spiders and snakes.Messengers delivermessagesfromtheUniverseeitherdirectlyorindirectly.“So if your eight-year-old son tells you that you need to drinkmorewater,

don’t just assume he’s repeating something he heard from somebody else. Infact,itwouldn’tmatterifhedid.Ifthat’ssomethingthatisunusualtocomeoutofyourson’smouthandyounoticeit,payattention.Youmightbedehydratedandatriskofgettingsick.ThatcouldbeadirectmessagefromtheUniverse.“Iknowawomanwhoreallyneededtocomeupwithsomemoneyanddidn’t

have a clue as tohow todo it.Behindher on thebusoneday, sheoverheardanotherwomantalkingonhercellphonesayingthatshe’djustsoldherunwantedgold jewelry for three thousand dollars at a place that buys gold. Well, thewoman who needed money just happened to have a box of unwanted goldjewelrysittinginhercloset,butitwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertosellitifshehadn’toverheard thatcomment.Thewomanon thephonewhowassittingbehindheronthebuswasamessengerfromtheUniverse.And,again,thiswasadirectmessage.”A dog barked outside the hotel window, interrupting Caroline. She pointed

towardthewindow.“We’veallheardstoriesaboutdogsbarkingincessantlyattheirownerstowarnthemaboutsomedanger,beitastovefireortheirspousecollapsed inanother room.When Iwasyoung,ourdogbarked toalertus thatsomeonewas attempting to steal our car at three o’clock in themorning.Myfather jumped out of bed, turned the lights on, and yelled at our dog to stopbarking,which scared away the thieves.Boy, didmy father feel bad the nextmorningwhenherealizedwhathadhappened.”Theaudiencelaughed.“Lives have been saved by animals of all sorts because peoplewere aware

enoughtopayattentiontothemessagestheysent.Theanimalsinallthesecases

weremessengers.“Becauseanimalscan’tspeakourlanguage,mostofthesetypesofmessages

areconsideredindirectmessages.Forexample,Iknowawomanwhosedoggotacertain typeofcancer.Once theowner learned thesymptomsof that typeofcancerfromtheveterinarian, thewomanrushedtoherowndoctor.She’dbeenhaving the same symptoms and had been ignoring them. Sure enough, shediscoveredshehadthesameformofcancer.Shemightnothavecaughtitearlyifnotforherdog.Andshe’sokaytoday,severalyearslater.Herdoglivedtoanoldageaswell.”Carolinepausedandlookedaroundatpeople’sfaces.“Thatlaststorymakesyouthink,doesn’tit?Well,therearealotofexamples

toindicatethatourpetswillsacrificetheirownlivestohelpus.Onedaywewillall understand that animals aremore advanced spiritual beings thanwe are. Icertainlyknowit’strueforthedogsandcatsI’veowned.Itrequiresadvanced-levelbeingstodowhattheydoforusandnevergetcredit.“Not to confuse you, but to better show you how this works, the earlier

exampleIgaveyouabouttheIntentionWorkshop…well,thefriendwhosaidshe’sgoingtotheworkshopandthefatherwhoreadtheadabouttheworkshopfromthenewspaperarebothmessengers.Theyweremessengers,anditwasthecoincidenceofyougetting the samemessage three times that reallynailed themessage home. So that example used a combination of messengers andcoincidence—twoofthefourwaystheUniversecommunicateswithus.“So what’s the third way? Anyone know?” Caroline scanned the room for

someonewhomightknow.Ameekvoiceintheaudiencesqueakedout,“Intuition?”“Yes!Excellent,”Carolinesaidasshepointed in thedirectionof theperson

whospoke.“ThethirdwaytheUniversecommunicatestous—orguidesus—isthroughourintuition.”Caroline’senthusiasmfor the subjectwasvisible inherbody language.She

hopped in the air, walked up and down the aisles of the classroom, andcommunicatedwithherhands.“Everyone has intuition. I’m not talking about psychic ability, although

psychic ability really is just an enhanced type of intuiting. Your intuition isnothingmore thanyour innersenseabout things,yourgut feelingsorpersonalinstincts.It’sthatspontaneousthoughtorfeelingthatpopsupinyourmindandbody.Yes,eveninyourbody.Youhaveanentirenervecenterinyourstomachareawhereyoureceiveintuitivemessages.It’scalledtheentericnervoussystem,orsecondbrain.Hencethetermgutinstinct.“It’sextremelyimportantthatyoulearntotrustandpayattentiontointuitive

signals becausemuch of this is guidance from theUniverse, or if you prefer,fromyourguardianangels.”Shestoppedmid-aisleandlookedaroundateveryone.“You all understand that I’m using the phrase the Universe, but we can

replace that phrasewithGod, Infinite Intelligence, Source,HigherPower, andCreativeIntelligencetomeanthesamething,right?”Afewpeoplenodded.“We’rereferringtothedivineenergythatconnectseveryperson,animal,and

livingorganisminourcosmos.Ijustwanttomakesurenooneisconfusedbyit,okay?”A few people responded affirmatively. Some were still writing on their

notepads.“There’sonemorewaythattheUniversecommunicateswithus,andit’sthe

least obvious one. Anyone know it?” Caroline looked around the room andwaited.Therewerenotakers.“It’sevents:thingsthathappentousoraroundus.Isometimesrefertothese

as‘divineevents.’Forinstance,youmightgetfiredfromyourjobonlytolandamore enjoyable job with better pay. That’s what happened to Mary. She gotevicted,whichledhertofindamuchbetterplacetolive.”Carolinewalkedbackupto thepodiumandlookedatheroutline, thensaid,

“Oryourboyfriendorgirlfriendmightbreakupwithyou,whichmightleadtoanewrelationshipwithsomeonewhoismorelovingandcompatiblewithyou.Ortogiveonemoreexample,youmightbreakyourankleandbeginwritinganovelyou’ve always dreamed of writing, which might become a New York Timesbestseller.”Thestudentswerefranticallywriting.“Those are all great examples, but this type of communication from the

Universeisn’talwaysgoingtobeaseeminglynegativeeventlikebreakingalegorgettingfired.Itcanalsobewonderfulevents.Ihadawomaninoneoftheseworkshopswhofoundawalletandendedupmarrying themanwhoowned it.Anotherexample ishowIwasoncegiven tickets toaconferencewhere Imetsomeonewhobecameoneofmyclosestfriends.“We could call these coincidences, but in fact, they are events because the

initial causeand the later effecthavea lotof spacebetween them.Evenmoreclearly,you’llrecognizeeventsbythewaytheyalterthedirectionofyourlife.“Life-alteringevents typicallyonlyhappenwhenwearenot listening to the

otherthreetypesofcommunicationfromtheUniverse.TheyareGod’swayofturningusaroundtogoinadirectionthatismorelikelygoingtoalignuswithwhatwedesirefromlife.Soifwebecomeawareoftheguidanceofcoincidence,

messengers, and intuition, there tends to be less need for themajor events tooccur—especially the negative ones that reset our course—which is a goodreasontostartbeingmoreawareoftheotherguidance,right?”Everyoneagreed.Carolinelookedatherwatch,thensaid,“Insummary,wecommunicatewith

ourspiritguidesorhigherselvesbysettingintentionsandgivingthoseintentionsourattention.Whatwe focusuponexpandsbecause the focusofour thoughtssendsoutanenergeticvibration—afrequency—thatismatchedbytheUniverse,which comes back to us like a desire-gifting boomerang. In essence, ourthoughtsbecomeourreality.“Then,becausetheUniverseisrespondingtoourintendedoutcomes,itworks

with us to make them happen. How? By guiding us … by putting the rightpeopleandcircumstancesinfrontofustohelpusmeetourgoals.Thus,weneedto pay attention. We need to remain aware of the signs and signals that theUniverse is sending,whichmaycome in four forms:One, coincidences.Two,messengers.Three,intuition.Four,events.“Themorealertwekeepourawarenessofpossiblecommunication,thebetter

ablewewillbetouseguidancetoexpeditethemanifestationofourintentions.”Carolinethrewherpencilandpaperdownonthepodiumandsighedloudly.

“Phew!”Thegrouplaughed.“Let’stakeashortbreak.We’llmeetbackhereintwentyminutes.”Thestudentsstartedtalkingtooneanotherastheyleft theclassroom.Afew

peoplerusheduptoCarolinetoaskquestions,sosherespondedbysayingloudlyforeveryonetohear,“We’ll takequestionsafter thebreak.Fornow,let’sgiveourmindsarestandmoveourbodies.”The line of people in front of her quickly dissipated with a few moans.

Caroline walked over to Mary unaffected. “That was amazing,” said Mary.“You’resuchagreatteacher.”“I’mgladyouenjoyedit.Youwanttogetsomefreshair?”“Sure,but then Ihave togo towork. I’mgoing tohave tomiss the second

half,”shesaid.“Noproblem.I’llletyouknowwhatyoumisslater.ItoldyouI’mhappyto

giveyouprivatelessons.”The twowalkedout thedoorasCarolinebeganpraisingMaryonhowwell

she’dtoldherstory.

DAVEWALKEDINTOMechanicsHallandwasimmediatelyinaweof itsbeauty. Behind the stage sat a floor-to-ceiling organ that was as fine acenterpiece for the eyes as it was pleasing to the ears. Dave looked at thepamphlet that came with his ticket: “The Hook Organ, appropriately namedbecause it was built by Elias and George Hook, was installed in 1864. It’s afifty-two-stop, 3,504-pipe organ, and the oldest unaltered four-keyboard pipeorganintheWesternHemisphere.”Dave lookedaroundand sawFatherBurke lookingover thebalcony railing

above him.He found hisway upstairs to see the viewwith theminister fromabove.Themengreetedoneanotherwithhugs.“YougotyourticketatWillCall,Isee,”saidDave.“Yes, thank you for this. This is such a joy. You know I’ve never seen

Benedictinemonksinconcert,butIlistentoGregorianchantsquiteofteninmychambersandfindthemrelaxing.”“Me,too.IlistenwhileImeditate.Don’tbesurprisedifIgointoatrancestate

during the concert,”Davekidded. “The secondmybrain hears this stuff, I gointoanotherdimension.”“I’ve seen that already at the hospital chapel.One time youwere levitating

three feet off theground,”Burkekiddedback. “Which remindsme, I’vebeenmeaning toaskyousomething. Ihopeyoudon’tmind,but thespeedatwhichyou healed was astounding. When we first met, you had pneumonia and

whatever elsewas causing you to barely be able tomove from your bed to awheelchair.Canyoutellmehowyouturnedyourhealtharoundsoquickly?”“Of course, Father.But you probably already knowwhat I’m going to say.

Thedaywemet,youprettymuchdescribedhavinganexperiencethatwasquitesimilartomine.Atitscore,Ibegineverymeditationwithaprayer,whichIcallanintention.IaskGodtoinfusemewithhispowertoheal.“I then imagine agolden light comingdown from theheavens and entering

mybodythroughthetopofmyhead.Inmymind’seye,IseethatlightpouringinandfillingmybodywithGod’shealingenergy.Witheveryin-breathItake,Iimaginemybodyfillingup.Witheveryout-breathItake,Iimagineexhalinganytoxinsordiseasefrommybody.”BurkeabsorbedeverywordDave said, noddinghishead to indicatehewas

listening.“I continue this visualization until I can feel my entire body vibrating—

buzzing—like you sharedwithme from your own experience.As I breathe, Ivisualizeeachpartofmybodyfillingwithgoldenlight,onebodypartatatime.“I beginwithmy head andworkmyway downward. First I feelmy scalp

relaxandheal, thenmyears,eyes,nose,mouth,andchin. I thenfeelmyneckrelaxandheal,andthenIfeelthewarmthofGod’slightmoveintomyshouldersandarms.Icontinueslowlymovingthroughmybodybyvisualizingmybicepsrelaxingandhealing,thenmytriceps,myelbows,myforearms,mywrists,mypalms,thetendonsinmyhands,andmyfingers.“At thispoint, Iusually feelmyfingers,butsometimesmyentirehands,go

numb—not in a badway, likewhen someone gets frostbite, but in a positiveway. I take it as a signof relaxation.My fingersbegin to tingle and feelverylight.Ithenvisualizeandfeelhealinglightmovingintomychest,mystomach,and then travelingall thewaydownmyback.From there I visualize the lightmoving intomyhipsandreachingdown intomy thighs.Asenseof relaxationpervadeseveryareathelighttouches.“I takemy time.Onlywhenmy thighs are completely relaxed and buzzing

withlightdoImoveintomyknees,andthenmycalves,myshins,anddowntomy feet. Again, I slowly imagine the relaxation and healing light movingthroughmyheels, thebridgesofmyfeet, thebottomofmyfeet,andthenintomy toes. By the time I reachmy toes, mywhole body is often buzzing withenergy.”Burkehadhiseyesclosedwhilehelistened.“It’s at this point that I visualize my entire body being healthy. I imagine

myselfdoingactivitiesthathealthypeoplecando,likewalkingdownthestreetwithease,runninginafieldwithjoy,swimminginalake,andplayingoutdoor

gameswithmyfuturegrandchildren.“Icontinuetovisualizemyselfinperfecthealthdoingfun,physicalactivities

untilmymindeventuallygoesblankanddropsintothespacebetweenthoughtsandbreaths.ThisplaceiswhatyoumightknowastheGodspace.AndIremainin this state until something or someone awakens me out of my meditativeecstasy.”Father Burke shook his head back and forth in awe. “And that’s how you

healedyourselffrombarelybeingabletogetoutofyourbedtowalkingaroundMechanicsHalllikeayoungmanagain?”“That’sit,yes!Afteronlyaweek,Iwaswalkingaroundmyroom.Aftertwo

weeks, Iwaswalking around the hallways of the third floor.And in the thirdweek,Iwaswalkingtothecourtyardonthefirstfloorbymyself.”BurkepointedatDavewithasmirk.“Tohaveacigarette?”Davelaughed.“No,Ihaven’thadacigarettesincethedayImetyou.Igave

thatupaftermywifecametomeinmydream.”“It’strulyamazinghowquicklyyourecovered.”“I’mstill improving.Ihaveawaystogoyet.I’mnotreadytogojogging.I

wouldlosemybreathtooquickly.ButI’manewmanwithoutadoubt.”“You’ve certainly showedmewhat’s possible,” theminister admitted. “I’ve

neverseenarecoverylikeyours.”“I surprised myself. Granted, I had years of practice with this method of

meditation beforemywife passed away. Iwasn’tmeditating for healing backthen, however. In those days, I was visualizing career success, lovingrelationships, and solutions to everyday problems. You can usemeditation ofthis sort to support any intention you desire—by breathing the intention intoeverypartofyourbody.Ijusthappenedtouseitforhealthmostrecently.”“That’s truly inspiring,my friend,” saidBurke.“Iwish Ihadwitnessed this

twentyyearsago.”Peoplewerebeginningtotaketheirseatsinthehall,soDaveasked,“Doyou

wanttofindourseats?”Thefriendsmadetheirwaydownstairs.“I’mgladyougaveupthesmoking,”BurkewhisperedtoDaveasthehouse

lightsbegantodimandtheaudiencegrewquieter.“Yeah,thatwasameanstoanendthatnolongerservedme,”Davewhispered

back.“AndI’msuremywifedoesn’tmindwaitingformealittlelonger.”Themenlaughedsoftlytogetherasthemonksbegantochant.Dave fully enjoyed the chanting. The acoustics in the hall sent themonks’

voicesreverberatingthroughhisentirebody.Heclosedhiseyeswithinminutes.About a half hour into the chanting, Dave’s whole body began vibrating. Heleanedbackinhischairandopenedhiseyestoseeachandelierhoveringabove

them.Amovement caught his attention, and thenhe couldn’t believewhat hewas seeing.Hiswife,Margaret,was sittingon thechandelier lookingdownathim.Heclosedandreopenedhiseyelids,thentookanotherlook.“Yup,”hesaidtohiswifesilentlyinhismind.“It’syou.You’resittingona

chandelier.Anyparticularreasonwhy?”“Ijustwantedtogetyourattention.”“Well,youcertainlydid.Idon’tunderstand,though.I’mnotsleeping.Howis

thispossible?”“Your conscious mind has gone into a semi-sleep state due to all the

meditation you’ve been doing. The monks’ chanting triggered it since youlistened to theirmusic during yourmeditations. You’re actually seeingme inyour mind’s eye. Come on up. Join me here on the chandelier. You won’tbelievetheview.”Daveclosedhiseyesand imaginedsittingnext toher. Inan instant,hewas

there. “The view really is extraordinary. They should sell seats up here,” hejoked.“Yes,andthereyouaresittingdownbelownexttoyourfriend,theminister.”Davelookeddownandsawhimself.“Thisisdisconcerting.Nooneisgoingto

believethiswhenItellthem.”“I don’t recommend telling people.They’ll put you away for good,” teased

Margaret.“Cananyoneseeusuphere,Margie?”“No.I’mreallynotabletoexplainit,butnoonecanseeus.”“ThenhowamIabletoseeyou?”“Youaren’tseeingmewithyoureyes.You’reseeingmewithyourthirdeye.

That’s what meditation can do for some people. It opens up your third eye,whichistheconduitbetweenthephysicalandthespiritualdimensions.Becauseyouusedtomeditateforyearsbeforemyaccident,itwaseasyforyoutogodeepinmeditationafterjustafewweeksofpracticeinthehospital.It’swhyyouwereabletohealsoquickly.”“WillIrememberthislater?”“You will. You’ll always remember this as if it just happened, even years

fromnow.Butyou’llquestionwhetherornotitwasreal,sotakemyhand.”DaveheldMargaret’shandandwassurprisedbyhowrealitfelt.Theinstant

he touched her, his eyes filled with tears of joy. It felt better than the bestembracethey’deverhadwhenshewasalive.Hecouldfeeltheloveshefeltforhim. Itwas themost intense love imbuedwith immeasurable compassion andjoyallatonce.Hand in hand, Margaret and Dave floated through the walls of Mechanics

Hall, which felt to Dave like pushing his way through mud. Margaret thenfloatedDavearoundthecity.“Icanstillhearthemonkschanting,”Davesaid,surprised.Margaretsmiled.

ShetookDaveonatouroverLakeQuinsigamondinWorcesterwheretheyusedto swim before Robbywas born, past St. John’sHigh School in Shrewsbury,whichDaveattendedasaboy,uptotheWachusettReservoirinOakdalewhereRobbyandMarylived,throughWestBoylstonoverDaveandMargie’shouse,thenoverHopeCemeteryinWorcesterwhereMargaret’sbodywasburied,andbacktowardMechanicsHall.WhentheyreachedMechanicsHallbelowthem,acrowflewuptoMargaret.

Asthecrowhoveredinfrontofher,flappingitswings,Margaretgentlypluckedablackfeatherfromthebird’sbody.ThecrowboweditsheadtoMargaretandgracefully flew away. Mary took Dave in tow back through the walls ofMechanics Hall to where they finally sat on the organ bench behind theBenedictinemonkswhowerestillsinging.“Wow,thatwasremarkable,”DavetoldMargie.“Ithoughtyou’dlikethat.”“Whatamemorabletour.AndI’llneverlookatacrowthesamewayagain.

AreyougoingtogivemethefeathersoI’llknowthisreallyhappenedlater?”“Yes,butnotnow.Takeagoodlookatitsoyouknowexactlywhatitlooks

like,” she said as she handed it to him. Dave held the feather with one handbecausehedidn’twanttoletgoofMargaret’shandwithhisother.Thefeatherwasabout three inches longand jetblackwithaone-inchstreakofwhitenearthetop.Heobserveditcloselyandhandeditbacktohiswife.“Thereisonepersonyoushouldsharethiswith.YouneedtotellRobby.He’ll

bemore open to it than youwould imagine because I also visited him in hissleep.Mostimportantly,youmustdescribethecrow’sfeathertohimsohecanbelieve,too.”“Iwill,mylove.”“Andkeepdoingwhatyou’redoing,honey:keep teachingRobbywhatyou

know.He’s new to this, but hewill become agreat teacher onedaywhowillsharethiswisdomwithmillions.”“Iwill,Margie.”“It’s time togonow. I loveyou,David.”MargaretkissedDaveon the lips,

which sent a bolt of love through every cell in his body. He instantly foundhimself back in his chair seated next to Father Burke. He rememberedeverything that happened, but he wished he could have asked her more,especiallyaboutthecrow’sfeather.Hedidhisbesttoputhisquestionsasideandtrust that everythingwould be answeredwhen it wasmeant to be. He leaned

backtoenjoytherestof theconcert,stillvibratingwith the lovingenergythatremainedfromhiswife’skiss.

ON THE ADVICE of his father, Robby had written down a new, moredetailed intention. It began with gratitude for the blessings he had alreadyaccumulated,likeTruhadsuggestedhedoatthelibrary,andthenincludedhisdetailedvisionforbeingasuccessfulauthorwritinghisownbooks.Justashisfather had instructed, he included all the details of how he hoped that wouldlook,feel,andbe.Finally,heabbreviatedthatintoasimpletwo-sentencemantrathat read, “Thank you for the blessings. I am awealthy and successful authorwritingmyownbooks.”Robbypracticedhismalawiththisnewmantraforacoupleweeks.Ashedid,

he foundhimselfwhistling around thehouse, accomplishinghousehold choreswithjoy,andevennoticingthebeautyofnaturemore,suchasthebirdsoutsidethecondoandalltheflowersthatJennyhadplantedarounditsperimeter.Onemorning, immediatelyfollowinghismalapractice,hecalledhiscurrent

ghostwritingclient,DaleDavenport.Theyhadscheduledaninterviewtodiscusselements of Dale’s book and Robby was hoping Dale hadn’t forgotten theappointmentagain.Dale’swife,Sue,answeredthephone.“Robby?”sheanswered,recognizinghisnumberfromthecallerID.“Hi,Sue.Areyoucrying?What’sthematter?”“Robby,Dalediedlastnight.”Herwordswerebarelyunderstandablebeneath

thecryingandsniffling.“Wethinkhehadaheartattack.Hejustdidn’twakeup.

Igotoutofbedtomakeuscoffee,andIthoughthewasasleep.WhenIbroughthimhiscoffee,Irealizedhewasgone.”Shesobbedinafitofgrief.Robbywas inshockbutpulled it togetherenough toconsoleSueasbesthe

could.Heexpressedhiscondolencesandthenhungupasquicklyandkindlyashewasable.Hisentirebodywasshaking.Hefellintoafitofpanicafterhangingup.Ohmygod,I’mresponsibleforDale’sdeath!hethought.Myintentiontostop

ghostwritingandbeginwritingmyownbooksgavehimaheartattack.Robbyhadseensomuchimmediatesuccesswithhisoriginalmantraformore

money that he believed his more detailed intention must have been powerfulenoughtocauseDale’sdeath.Nobodywarnedme that I couldharmsomeonedoing this!he thoughtashe

feltafrenzyofemotionwellupinsideofhim.Hischestbecametight,andhefeltshortofbreath.Hebecamelightheadedandlaydownonhisofficefloor.I shouldhaveknown thiswasdangerous stuff tobe foolingaroundwith,he

toldhimself.Itwastoogoodtobetrue.Nothinggoodcomeswithoutaprice.Aftertwentyminutesofdoingdeepbreathingwhilelyingdown,hemanaged

to standupagain.Hewas still shakingandhis stomachwas in aknot, buthewasn’t dizzy anymore. He grabbed his mala from his desk, looked at it withgravedisappointment,andthenthrewit intohisofficewastebasket.WhowasIkidding? I can’t believe I allowedmyself to play with this new age stuff.Myfather needs to know the danger that he’s putting people in by teaching theseideas.RobbydecidedtofindhisfatherandtellhimwhathehaddonetoDale.“I’m

not taking the blame for this!” he said out loud as he grabbed the keys to histruck.“Thisisonyou,Dad.Andyou’vemademeanaccessorybyplayingwithyourmagic.”Hegotintohispickupandstartedtheignition,stillmumblingtohimself.“Just

followthesestepsandyoucanwriteyourownbooks,Robby.Sure,Dad, lookwhereit’sgotmenow!”Filledwithfury,hedrovetoSt.Vincent’sHospital,parkedhispickuptruck,

andstormedtotheelevator.Whilehewaswaitingfortheelevator,FatherBurkesawhimthroughthedoorsofthechapel.Theministerwalkedouttothehallway.“Robby?Isthatyou?”theministersaid.Robbywasn’t feeling sociable, but he didn’t want to be disrespectful. “Hi,

Father Burke. I have something I need to talk to my father about,” he saidsternly.Burke sensed hewas distraught. “Son, you took your father home a couple

weeksago,remember?”

Robbywassousedtovisitinghisfatheratthehospitalthathe’dautomaticallydriventhere.Theelevatordinged,thedooropened,andRobbysteppedtowarditbutthenstoppedhimself.Hismindwasoverwhelmedbyhisemotions.“Ohmygod,I’msuchadope!”hesaidoutloud.FatherBurkegentlytookhisarmandwalkedhimintotheemptychapelwhere

theycouldhavesomeprivacy.Theysatdownatthefirstpewtheyreached.“Iseverythingallright,son?Youknow,I’magoodlistener.”Robbycouldn’tlookhimintheeye.“Myfathergavemesomeadvicethatled

me to do something that ended up being harmful. He needs to know that hisbeliefsaredangerous.”Thechaplainchosehiswordscarefully,realizinghowangryRobbywaswith

hisfather.“I’veonlyknownyourfatherforashorttimenow,butIfeellikehe’sbeen pretty forthright with me. He’s never shared any beliefs that seemedharmfulfromwhatIcantell.Doyouwanttobemorespecific?”Robby reached into his pocket for his mala and remembered that he had

thrownitaway.“Doyouknowwhatmalabeadsare,Father?”“Yes.Wehaveourownversionofthem.Wecallthemrosarybeads.”Father

Burkepulledontherosarybeadsheworearoundhisnecktodisplaythem.“Isthiswhatyou’retalkingabout?”“Yeah, but themala doesn’t have a cross on the end, and it has a lotmore

beads.”“Yes, my rosary has thirty-three beads, one for every year of Christ’s life.

Catholic rosaries have fifty-nine beads. But I’ve seen what you’re talkingabout.”“Well, my father taught me to think of an intention and write a mantra to

summarizeit.Hethentoldmetorepeatthemantraonceforeverymalabead.”“We do that, too.We call it prayer. It’s sort of a to-MAY-toe to-MAH-toe

thing.Goon.”Robby got a little annoyedwith theminister. He was trying to explain his

father’s ill-fated ways and Father Burke kept interrupting and neutralizingeverythinghesaid.“Well,myfathertoldmetosetanintentiontomakealivingwritingmyown

booksratherthanwritingbooksforotherpeople,andIdidit.”BurkewaitedpatientlyforRobbytocontinue,assumingtherehadtobemore.“Ididthatforacoupleweeks,andthismorningmyclientdied.I’mafraidthat

Imightbe responsible forhisdeath,whichwouldmakemy father responsibleforitbecauseheencouragedmetodoit.”FatherBurkewashappytohavethemysterysolved.Hisbodyrelaxedashe

sawthathewouldbeabletohelptheyoungman.

“Isee.SobasicallyyouprayedtoGodtobeabletoearnmoneywritingbooksof your own. This would mean you no longer wrote books for others. Andbecause your client died—now giving you time to write your own books—you’reworriedthatGodtookyourclient’slifeinordertograntyourwishes.”Robby thought thesummarysoundedabit simplified,buthecouldn’targue

againstit.“Yeah,Iguessthat’sit.”“Yourclientwantedtowriteabookaswell,amIright?”“Yes.That’swhyhehiredme.”“Sobyhiringyouheindicatedhisownprayer—orintention—tocompletehis

ownbook.”Robbynoddedinagreement.“Infact,son,itwasprobablyalsoyourclient’sprayer—orintention—tolive

longerthanhedid.Isthatfairtoassume?”Robby nodded again. He realized a wise old man was dismantling his

argument.“Soifyourconclusioniscorrect,Godnotonlychosetograntyourprayerto

writeyourownbookoveryourclient’sprayertowritehisbook,butGodchoseto grant your wish to write your own book over your client’s wish to live alonger life.Thinkingof it thatway, doyou thinkGod favors onepersonoveranothersodeeplythatHe’swillingtoendoneperson’slifetogiveaboosttotheotherperson’scareergoals?”“But my mala exercise had worked so well before. Was that just a

coincidence,too?”FatherBurkeputhisarmaroundRobby’sshoulders.“I’mnotsureIbelievein

coincidence,son.You’veheardthequestionaboutwhichcamefirst,thechickenortheegg,right?”Robbynodded.“We’llneverknowforsure,butisn’titpossiblethatGodinspiredyoutopray

onyourmalaforthecareerchangeyoudesirebecauseHeknewyourclientwassoontocomehometoHim?Isn’titwithinGod’smeanstoseetheopportunityfor you to beginwriting your own books soon, soHe put that desire in yourmind?”Robbylistenedintently,tearsslidingdownhischeeks.“PerhapsGodwas just getting you to think in newways before your client

died so that you didn’t just immediately take a new client when his deathoccurred.”FatherBurketookhisarmoffRobby’sshouldersandplacedhisrosarybeads

inRobby’shands.“I’vebeendoingthisforalong,longtime,morethanalltheyears you’ve been in this world, and I’ve never seen a prayer intended to

improvesomeone’slifenegativelyaffectthelifeofanother.Prayeronlyworksfromlove.I’mtalkingaboutloveforeveryman,woman,child,andanimal.Itisliterallyimpossibletouseprayertobenefityourselftothedetrimentofanother.God’s infinite wisdom knows how to answer your prayers in a manner thatworksforallhumanity.”Robbysatquietlyforafewmoments.Ashedid,themusclesinhisfaceand

bodychangedfromtensetorelaxed.“Look,Robby, your father is an insightfulmanwith greatwisdom to share

withyou.Andheisn’tjustawiseteacher,healsowalkshistalk.Payattentiontoyourdad,especiallythesedays.He’sadifferentmanthanhe’sbeenforthelastfewyears.”Robbysatupstraight.“I’mgladIcamehere...bymistake,”hesaidwitha

hintofasmile.“Iguessitwasn’tanycoincidencethatIdid.Thankyouforbeingsopatientwithme.”Hegavetheministerahug,handedhimbackhisrosarybeads,andtheysaid

theirgoodbyes.Robbywalkedoutofthehospitalandsatinhistruckintheparkinglotfora

whilewatchingpeoplecomeandgo.Hecontemplatedhowhemusthavebeenled to Father Burke by a higher power, considering that he, himself, was theperson who’d driven his father home after his release from the hospital. HethankedGodforHisguidance,knowingthatFatherBurkewasperhapstheonlyperson who could have explained what he had with the perspective Robbyneededatthatmoment.Whenhefeltready,Robbydrovehometopullhismalabeadsoutofhiswastebasket.

ROBBYANDMARY finishedeatingdinnerat theirfavoriteIrishrestaurantin Worcester, Murphy’s Restaurant and Bar, to celebrate their fifth weddinganniversary.Theyhadamoreformaldinnerplannedwithfriendstocelebrateonthe weekend, but they wanted to do something on the actual day of theiranniversary. The pub was quiet and familiar, and a place they both enjoyed.Plus,itwastherestaurantwherethey’dhadtheirfirstdate.Robbyorderedthesamedishhealwaysgot,shepherd’spie.SinceMarydidn’t

eat meat, she ordered a big salad with warm goat cheese and beets, goldendeliciousapples,andromainelettuce.They paid their bill and were walking out when they ran into an old high

schoolfriendnamedStanBarone.Stanhadbeenat thebarforawhilealreadybut was returning after going outside for a quick smoke. Robby and Marywantedtogethome,beingthatitwaseightthirtyatnightandMaryhadtoworkin themorning, butStan insisted that they comeback inside andhave adrinkwithhimtocatchup.Stanwasthirty-twoyearsold,thoughhelookedlikeanunhealthyfifty-year-

old.Hewasthinineverymannerexceptforhisprotrudingbeerbelly.Hisskinwasthinandhadareddishtinttoit.Hishairwasthinandgreasy.Hisfacewasthinwith a long nose and chin.Even his legs and armswere thin,whichwasespeciallynoticeableduetothemechanic’suniformheworethatwasacoupleofsizestoolargeforhim.

Stanhadgone straight to thebar right outofwork, sohewas a fewdrinksaheadoftheRobinsons.“Youguyslookgreat.Youreallydo,”hesaidasRobbyandMarysettledinatthebar.“Youmustliveagoodlife.”“It’ssogoodtoseeyou,man,”Robbysaidinreturn.“Howiseverything?”askedMary.“Areyoumarriedyet?”Stan laughed. “Noway. I can’t be tieddown tonoball and chain.Ahh, no

offense,Mary.Imean,Iwasseeingagirlforaboutayear,butshewasonmybackaboutthisandthat,soIdumpedher.”“Oh,that’stoobad,Stan,”saidMary.“Yeah, shehad all thesedreamsof doing this and that—ofowning a house

andgettingmarried. I toldher,dreamsjustsetyouupfordisappointment,youknow? It’snotgood togetyourhopesupbecause thenyou’re just sad if theydon’tworkout.Whybesadwhenyoucanbehappywithoutdreaming,likeme?Isay,liveinthemoment.AmIright?”Stan lifted his beer for a toast. Mary and Robby forced a halfhearted

reciprocalraisingoftheirglasses.Thecouplesharedglances,boththinkingthesamething:Whatdidwegetourselvesinto?Stanwastoointoxicatedandself-focusedtonotice.“I see you’re still a mechanic,” Mary said in an effort to divert the

conversation.“AreyoustillworkingatLander’sGarage?”Stanmadeanexaggeratedwave, indicatingno.“Ihaven’tworked there ina

longtime.Theyfiredme.TheysaidIcomplaintoomuch.Ican’thelpitiftheydon’t know what they’re doing. I have to speak my mind, you know?” Stanguzzled some of his beer while talking. He sounded like he was talkingunderwater.“SoIgotajobatthegasstationdownthestreet.Whatadumpthatplaceis,andItold’emso.Theydidn’tlikethat,sotheyfiredme.I’mworkingatthemuffler shopnowonGoldStarBoulevard. Itkindof sucks, too,but it’s apaycheck.YouknowwhatI’msaying?”RobbycouldseewhyStan’slifewasamess.HethoughtaboutwhatTruhad

taught him in the library. If you think happy thoughts, you’ll attract happypeople and circumstances into your life. If you think unhappy thoughts, you’llattract unhappy people and circumstances into your life. Robby realized thatStanmostly thoughtunhappy thoughts,and thenheempowered those thoughtsbysayingthemoutloud.Robbytriedtochangethesubjectagaintolightenuptheconversation.“How’syourmom,Stan?Ihaven’tseenherinfiveyears.”“Mymom?Oh,she’sgood,Iguess.Shegotthecancerafewyearsback,butI

guessshe’sokaynow.Ihadtogiveheraridetothedoctortheotherday’causehercarbrokedown.Thatcarwasalwaysapieceofcrap.Rightfromthestart,

thatcarneverranright.I toldherwhenshegot it that thosecarssuck,butdidshelistentome?Noway.Nobodyeverlistenstome.SonowIhavetodriveherto thedoctorbecauseshedidn’t listen.Ishouldchargeherforgas,youknow?It’snotlikemytruckgetsgoodmileageornothing.Iprobablyonlygettenmilestothegallon.”WhenStan stopped talking to drinkhis beer,Mary stoodup fromher chair

and said, “We really have to get home,Stan. I have an earlymorning. I hopeyourmomisgoingtobeokay.”RobbywasrightoncueandhelpedMarywithher jacket.MarygaveStana

huggoodbyeandquicklywalkedaway.RobbytoldStanasheshookhishand,“Yeah,Mary’sgot toworkearly tomorrow.Listen,man, takecareofyourself.Sayhellotoyourmomforme,willyou?”Stan started mumbling something about not planning to see his mother

anytime soon if he had any say about it, but Mary and Robby were alreadymakingtheirwayoutofthebarbythetimehefinishedhissentence.Stanmovedhisemptyglassfromthetabletothebarandorderedarefillfromthebartender.Thebartenderaskedhim,“Areyourfriendsleavingsosoon?”“Iknow,right?Iwashopingthey’dbuyanotherround.Butnooo,she’sgotto

getupearly,”hesaidinamockingvoice.“Lightweights.”HappytohaveescapedStan’sincessantcomplainingandnegativity,Maryand

Robby sprinted across the restaurant parking lot and hopped into their stationwagon like theyweremaking a getaway after a bank robbery.Both laughing,theyleanedagainstoneanotherlikeschoolkids.“Ohmy god,” saidMary. “I was just having a conversation with Caroline

aboutpeoplewhosayonenegativethingafteranother.Shewassayinghowwehavetobereallycarefulaboutthewordswesaybecausewe’reputtingthatfocusout into theUniverse.The thoughtswe thinkand thewordswe speakare likeseedsthatgrowinourfuture.”“Someonewas saying the same thing tomea fewweeksago,” saidRobby,

thinkingofTru.“Weweretalkingaboutpeoplewhoarealwayscomplainingortalkingaboutthingsthey’reworriedabout.”“Ohmy god,Robby, Stan is the perfect example of how negative thoughts

andwordscreatenegativeexperiences.It’sanenergythat,onceyougetcaughtinit,perpetuatesitself.”Robbynoddedinagreement.Theywerenolongerlaughing,andinsteadwere

nowfeelingcompassionforStan.“Thatcouldhavebeenme,”saidRobby.“Iwasonmywaytherejusttwoor

threemonths ago.Heck, do you remember hownegative Iwas in themonthspriortousgettingevicted?”

“Youwereneverthatbad,Robby,probablybecauseyoudon’tdrinklikeStan.Our bodies can recover rather quickly from an occasional drink, but Stan isgoing to have a difficult time raising his level of consciousness enough toimprovehislifeifhecontinuestolowerhisphysicalandmentalenergywithsomuchbeer.”Robbysat insilence thinkinghowStanhadhelpedhimopenhiseyes tohis

ownpastbehavior.SureRobbydidn’tdrinkmuchalcohol,buthedidtalkalotabouthowunhappyhewaswritingbooksforotherpeopleratherthanwritinghisown books. It’s no wonder I wasn’t getting any new clients, he thought.Myacidicattitudemusthavechasedthemaway.Mary interruptedRobby’s thoughts,mirroringherhusband’sepiphany.“Did

youfeeltherepellingforceofeverythingStanwassaying?Icouldn’twaittogetoutofthere.Anotherminuteandmybrainmighthaveexplodedfromlisteningtoallthatgloom,hostility,andcynicism.”“Iwas just thinking the same thing.Maybe that’swhat Iwasdoingwhen I

wasn’t getting any new clients. Maybe my unhappy thinking was repellingthem.”Robby was fascinated by the truth of what Mary recognized in their

experience with Stan. Negativity really did have a repelling effect. Then itoccurred to himwhat she’d said. “Hey,wait! I didn’t knowyouhad somuchinsightintothissubject,Mary.”“Well … I guess this is a good time to tell you. I’ve been learning from

Caroline,”sheadmitted.“Shegivesworkshopsaboutusingourthoughts,words,andactionstoclaimthelifewedesire.Didyouknowshedoesthat?”“Iknewshegaveworkshops,butI thoughtshetaughtgoalsetting,”hesaid,

laughingathismistake.“Iattendedoneofherworkshops,andshe’sanamazingteacher.”Mary’seyes

widenedassherealizedwhatwashappening.“Ohmygod.Ican’tbelievethis,Robby. I hadno ideayouknewanything about this stuff either.How long…when—?”Smiling,Robbysaid,“Doyourememberthattimeyouwentgroceryshopping

withthelastofourmoney?”Marynodded.“Itallstartedthatday.”“Whydidn’tyoutellme?”sheasked.Robby took a deep breath. “Well, if I’m being honest with both you and

myself,Ididn’tsayanythingfortworeasons.First,Iwasjustdippingmytoeinthewater—testing it—and I didn’twant to tell you until Imade upmymindaboutit.Second,andmorelikelythereasonIprocrastinatedsayinganythingtoyou, I was too embarrassed to tell you considering how outspoken I’ve beenaboutnotacceptinganythingthatcan’tbeproven.You’llbehappytoknowthat

myfatherhasreallyhelpedopenmyeyesabouthowmyskepticismhasheldmebackovertheyears.”“Wow,you’rekindofblowingmymindhere.Youknow,I’mgladyouwaited

totellmebecausemyenthusiasmmighthavepushedyoutoofast,leadingyoutostop testing altogether. So, tell me, are you familiar with the concepts ofintentionandattention?”askedMary.“Intention,yes.Attention,no.What’sthat?”Robbystartedthestationwagon

togohome.Theentiredrive,Marytaughthimwhatshe’dlearnedfromCarolineabouttheimportanceofgivingourintentionsattention,andhowouractionsarea form of attention.When they got home, Robby showedMary hismala. Herealizedtheybothhadalottoteachoneanother.Mary could not have been more excited to learn that Robby had finally

openedhismindtometaphysics.Shewasalsoexcited to learnabout themala,immediately recognizing that itwas a powerful tool for giving attention to anintention.“Nowwecandoourmetaphysicalexercisestogether,”shesuggested.“What

mightbepossibleifweworkedtogetheronthesameintentions?Iwonderiftheresultswouldbeexponential?”The two stayed up late in bed telling each other themany stories they had

beenkeepingfromoneanotheroverthelastcouplemonths.Ironically,theybothhadStanandhisnegativity to thankforbringing theirpassionssoclose to thesurfacethattheycouldn’tkeepthemsecretanylonger.MarytaughtRobbyhowStanwasanindirectmessengerforthemandthentaughthimthefourwaystheUniversecommunicateswithpeoplethatshe’dlearnedfromCaroline.Beforegoingtosleepthatnight,theybothexpressedgratitudetotheUniverse

andStanforbringingthetruthof their independent intentionpractices to light.Now that they weren’t hiding their intention exercises from each other, theywould be able to share anything new they learned along theway. That night,RobbyandMarymadelovewithmoreintimacythentheyhadinmonths.Itwasawonderfulendingtotheirfifthanniversary.

ROBBYDROVEintothebookstoreparkinglot.Matthadcalledtotellhimhewas going and invited Robby to join him. Since Robby wasn’t workingfollowingDale’sdeath,hewasgladtotaketheopportunitytospendsometimewithhisfriend.MattwasalreadyinsidewhenRobbyarrived.Robbyfoundhisfriendintheself-helpsection.Robbythoughtitfunnytosee

Mattinabookstore,period,buthereallythoughtMattlookedoutofplaceintheself-helpsection.“Hey,what’sup?Iexpectedtofindyouinthesportssection,”hetoldMatt.“Heythere,Pinhead.Idohaveotherinterests,youknow.”Mattwaslooking

atTheLife-ChangingMagicofTidyingUpbyMarieKondo.“Tidying,really?I’veneverseenyouasatidykindofguy.”“Yeah, well maybe that’s why I need this book,” Matt replied while he

continued reading. “Tobehonest, I reallyappreciateher ideaofkeepingwhatbringsyoujoyanddiscardingwhatdoesn’t.Wecouldapply that toa lotmorethan justdeclutteringourhomes. I’mgoing toapply it topeople, too. Imaginespendingmoretimewiththepeopleinyourlifewhomakeyoufeel joyfulandlesstimewiththepeopleinyourlifewhodrainyourenergylikevampires.”Robby saw another copy of the book on the shelf and picked it up. “You

know,”he said, “wecould also apply it to thingswedo, like thoseobligatoryeventswe feelwehave toattendbuthategoing to.Youknowwhat? I’ve justmadeadecision:asofrightnow,I’mnolongerattendingeventsthatdon’tbring

mejoy.”Matt lookedup from readinghis book and consideredRobby’s idea. “What

about a child’sbirthdaypartyor agraduation?Those aren’t very fun, but youstillhavetogotothem.Areyounotgoingtoattendthose?”“No,I’llgotothosebecauseitgivesmejoytocelebrateimportantmoments

inmylovedones’lives.Theymightbeonthedullside,butIstillgetjoyoutofseeingthehappinessofotherswhoarecelebratingtheirbirthdaysorgraduations.What I’m going to boycott are events that don’t bring me any joy, like aninvitationfromtoxicpeoplewhotalkaboutthemselvesfortwohoursandneverask about your own life. By theway, did I tell youwe ran into Stan Baronerecently?”Mattlaughed.“Don’tevensayit.IranintoStanmyselfawhileback.Youjust

describedhimtoatee.Ohmygod!Canthatguyvomitnegativityalloveryouorwhat? I felt like crapafter talkingwithhim foronly fifteenminutes. It totallythrewoffmyday.”Robby nodded in agreement. “That’s what I’m talking about. Okay then,

thank you Marie Kondo. We just applied your brilliance of decluttering andorganizingtofitotherareasofourlifeaswell.That’smynewlitmustest:willthisbringmejoy?Ilovethatidea.”Afterafewminutesofperusingbooksintheself-helpsection,Mattwanteda

coffee at the Starbucks inside the bookstore. The two men got their coffees,Robbygotasliceofpumpkinbread,andtheyfoundatablewheretheycouldsitandchat.“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Robby. Next month, there’s a sports

memorabiliaconventioninNewYorkCityIneedtoattend.Wouldyouliketotagalong?”Robby took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly through his puffed-out

cheeks.“I’dlovetogo,butIshouldn’tspendthemoney.I’mnotevenworkingrightnow.”“That’s why I’m inviting you, Dingleberry! Doesn’t New York City have

publishersallovertheplace?”Robbyshothimatestylook.“Yes,butthat’snothowitworks.Youhaveto

mailoremail themabookproposaland thenwaitandwaitandwait. Imailedmineacoupleweeksago.NowallIcandoiswait.”Matt nearly choked on his coffee. “Are you kiddingme? Caroline toldme

you’vehad a newawakening.But you talk like someonewho’s never learnedaboutmetaphysicsinhislife.”“Whatdoyoumean?I’mdoingmymalapracticetwiceaday.I’vewrittenout

everydetailofwhatIwant.I’mevenwatchingmynegativeself-talk.”

MattpushedRobby’sshoulder.“You’resuchanamateur.Allright,nowlistencarefully.” Matt moved his chair closer to Robby so he could talk softly.“Everythingyoujustsaidtomeisalimitingbelief.Yousaid:‘Youhavetomailthemabookproposal.’‘Youhavetowaitandwaitandwait.’Thosebeliefsarelimitingyoursuccess,andthey’reobviouslylimitingtheactionyou’rewillingtotaketoachieveyourdreams.Youneedtoraisetheceilingonwhatyoubelieveispossiblebecauseit’sholdingyouback,man.”Robbylistenedquietly.Hecouldn’trespondbecauseheknewhisfriendwas

right.Still,he’dbeentoldbyothersandreadinmanybookseverythingheknewaboutgettingpublished.Itwasdifficulttobelievetherewasanalternatepath.“I could also finda literary agent to representme,”Robbyadded, “but I’ve

been told it’s equally as difficult and nearly the same process to get theirattention.”“What might you do if someone hadn’t convinced you that the only way

publishing companies or agents accept book proposals is through the mail oremail?”Robbythoughtaboutit.“Idon’tknow,maybeI’dcalltheminstead?”“Yeah,maybe. Ormaybe you’d realize that we live in a world that favors

relationshipsover talent.Doyou think it’spossible that somenewauthorsgetpublishing contracts just because they know somebody at the publishingcompany?Inotherwords,theymighthavesometalent,butdon’tyouthinkthatsomewriterswith less talentaregettingpublishedbecauseofwho theyknow,while some more talented writers aren’t getting contracts because they don’tknowanyone?Doyouthinkthathappens?”“Sure,itprobablyhappensallthetime.”“Okaythen,soit’stimetothink.Doyouhaveanyconnectionswithaneditor

atapublishingcompany?”Robbyshruggedhisshoulderslikehecouldn’tthinkofanyone.“Didn’tsomeonejustsendyouafivethousand-dollarbonusbecausetheygot

a publishing contract?And didn’t that person say the publisher LOVED yourwriting?”“Oh,right!You’retalkingaboutSamuel.”“Yeah, Samuel. And don’t you have other ghostwriting clients who got

publishingcontractswithbooksthatyouwrote?”“Okay,okay,Igetit.”“You’re such a beginner,” saidMatt. “Doyouunderstand thatwhat youdo

speaksasloudlytotheUniverseaswhatyousayorwhatyouthink?”“Yes, in fact, Mary just taught me about attention and action. I think she

learnedaboutthoseideasfromyourwife.”

“ThenIdon’thave toask ifyou’vebeenwriting thatbookthatyouwant togetpublished?”Robbyslouchedandbithislip.“Look,Pantywaist,whatyoudoordon’tdosendsamessagetotheUniverse

aboutwhatyoutrulybelieveatyourcore.Ifyouhopetogetpublishedbutaren’tspendinganytimewritingthebookyet,you’resendingamixedmessage.Don’tyouthink?”Robbyinterrupted.“ButI’veheardthatpublisherspreferyoudon’twritethe

book before they accept the book proposal. They prefer to guide you on howtheywantitwritten.”Mattlightlyslappedhimonthebackofthehead.“Didyoujusthearyourself?

Whotaughtyouthatlimitingbelief?WhatI’veheardisthatpublishersprefertoworkwithagentswhohaveclientswhoknowhowtowritebooks.Whohasthetimetobabysitauthorsonhowtowritetheirbooks?”“Honestly, I don’t rememberwho toldme that. I just thought that’s how it

worksbecauseI’veneverbeenonthatendofabookdeal.”“Andweretheytalkingaboutfictionornonfictionbooks?”“I’mnotsure.Iassumedtheymeantboth.”“Diditeveroccurtoyouthateveryautobiographyyoughostwroteforoneof

yourclientswaswrittenbeforeitwassoldtoapublisher?AmIright?”“Yeah,you’reabsolutelyright,butautobiog—”“Don’tyoudaretellmethatautobiographiesaredifferentbecausewhatwould

thatbeifyoudid?”“Alimitingbelief,”answeredRobbywithagrin.“Sowhatareyougoingtostartdoing?”“Writemybook.”“Unbelievable. And you’re the one who got all As and Bs in school,”

sputteredMattashestooduptogetarefillonhiscoffee.RobbyknewMattwasright.Hehadbeensittingaroundwaitingtohearfrom

the publishing company rather than taking further action to help the projectalong, including beginning to write it. Plus, now he had the time to write itbecauseDalehaddiedandDalewashisonlyclient.Herecognizedhehadalotmore to learn aboutmetaphysics in addition to practicing hismala.Until nowhe’dhadnoideahowmuchhislimitingbeliefswereholdinghimback.Mattreturnedwithtwocoffees.“You’regoingtoneedanothercoffeeforwhat

I’mabouttotellyou.”Hesatdownandthoughtaboutwheretobegin.“Areyoufamiliarwiththeconceptofbeginner’sluck?”“Sure.Whoisn’t?”“Well,most people are familiarwith it, butmost people don’t knowwhy it

works.Doyou?”Robbythoughtaboutitbutwasprettysurehedidn’thaveaclue.Heshookhis

headno.“A beginner succeeds for a while because his head isn’t filledwith lots of

reasonswhyhemightnotsucceed.Anewpokerplayerdoesn’trealizetheoddsagainstgettingafullhouseorastraightflush.Soallhedoesisimaginewinningandhedoes.Abeginner’sbeliefisthatthegameispurelyfunandeasytowin.Soabeginnerwins,somuchsothatIwillneverplayformoneywithabeginner.Oftenhedoesn’tevenknowhe’swinning.He’llgetastraightflushandask,‘Isthisgood?’”Robbylaughed.“The Universe gives us what we see in our mind’s eye, nothingmore and

nothingless.TheUniverseisonehundredpercentdetachedfromwhatitsendsourway.Itmirrorsthevisionwesendouttoitwithoutanyregardtohowthatmightaffectus.Why?Becauseit’smerelydeliveringwhatweorderedwithourthoughts,words,andactions.Andwhydoweorderanythinglessthanwhatwedesire?”“Becauseofourbeliefs,”answeredRobby.“That’sright. Ifyou’vebeen taughtall thereasonswhygettingapublishing

contract is difficult, all those obstacles now cloud your vision. Especially ifyou’ve never been published before—because you’re more open to acceptingwhatotherpeopletellyouinthatcase—youweightheiropinionsmoreheavilythan your own. The obstacles that people told you exist have created a filterbetweenyourdesireandwhatyouareactuallygetting.Andalltheobstaclesthatyoulearnedarenowyourbeliefsaboutwhat’spossible.”Robbyhadhisnotebookoutandwastakingnotes.Matt continued. “Our beliefs become a filter that alters the potency of our

visionandourintentions.Theyarewhatstandbetweenusandthemanifestationofourdesires.Robby,youconstantlyneed tochallengeyourbeliefsbyaskingyourself: Is thismy belief of how thisworks or is it something that I learnedfrom someone else, which I accepted as true?Was it believed due to a pastexperience I had thatmademe think it is true?Or is this belief the result ofsomething I read in a book or saw in amovie that I accepted as true? If theanswer to any of those questions is yes, you need to challenge those limitingbeliefs.With practice and awareness, you’ll start to hear yourself themomentyousayalimitingbeliefoutloud.”Robbyinterrupted.“Canyougivemesomeexamples?”“Sure.Iusedtosay,‘I’mnotgoodatmath.’WheredidI learn that limiting

belief?You say, ‘I’ll never be able tomake a livingwritingmy own books.’

Whosuggestedthattoyou?‘Publishingcompanieshavetheirrules,soIhavetofollow them.’Who convinced you that following the rules is always the bestroutetosuccess?”Mattpausedandtookaswigofhiscoffee.“Frankly,Matt,you’reright,”Robbyadmitted.“Isay those things tomyself

allthetime.IthinkmyentirelifehasbeenaffectedbylimitationsI’veacceptedfromonesourceoranother.”MattpattedRobbyontheback.“You’repreachingtothechoir,man.Weall

do. The trick is in recognizing them and then questioning those beliefs. Nowlisten closelybecause I’vegot something thatwill blowyourmind.Haveyouever noticed that the kids we went to school with who had wealthy parentstypicallyendedupaffluent?Andthatthekidswithmiddle-classparentstendedtoendupbeingmiddleclass?Orthatmostofthekidswithpoorparentsendedup in a very similar financial situation as their folks? People refer to thisphenomenonas‘theapplenotfallingfarfromthetree.’Doyouknowwhythathappensmostofthetime,eventhoughtherearesomeexceptions?”“Becauseittakesmoneytomakemoney?”Robbyguessed.“Yousee,that’sanotherlimitingbelief,justlike‘Wehavetoworkhardtoget

aheadinlife’and‘Therichgetricher,andthepoorgetpoorer.’No,Biscuithead,the reason kids typically end up in the same socioeconomic stratum as theirparentsisbecausetheyonlyknowwhattheyknow.Saidanotherway,theydon’tknowwhattheydon’tknow.”Robbyrecalledhisfathersayingsomethingsimilartohiminthehospital.Matt continued. “If you can’t imagine yourself living in a million-dollar

home, driving a luxury car, or wearing designer clothes, the ceiling you’vecreatedforyourself isdue to the limitationofyourownexperiences.Howcanwevisualizewhatwedon’tknow?”Robbynoddedinagreement.Mattwasmakingalotofsensetohim.“Kidswhogrowup inenvironments thatweconsiderwealthyautomatically

seethemselvesinasimilarenvironmentastheygrowup.Thisaffectshowtheychoosetheircareers,whatsalariestheyaskforwhenapplyingforjobs,andwhatgoals they strive for their entire lives. It’s natural for them to visualizethemselvesbeingwealthybecausethat’sallthey’veknownalltheirlives.Theygrewupinawealthyenvironment.“But kids from lower socioeconomic households don’t have any concept of

whatitfeelslike,lookslike,smellslike,ortastesliketobewealthy.Sounlessthey have friends whose parents are wealthy, most of what they know aboutaffluence comes from television or magazines, which feels more like fantasythanrealitytothem.

“What do you think they visualizewhen they dream about improving theirlives?DoyouthinktheydreamofowningaRollsRoyce,aBMW,ormaybealate-modelChevy?Doyou think they see themselves living inamansionor anice three-bedroom colonialwith a two-car garage?Do you think they dreamaboutearningmillionsordoyouthinktheydreamaboutearningfiftythousanddollarsayear?DoyouseewhereI’mgoingwiththis?”“Yes,anditmakesperfectsense,”saidRobby.“Butwhat’sthesolutionifwe

don’tknowwhatwedon’tknow?”“Well, becausewe don’t knowwhatwe don’t know,most of us do a little

better than our parents.We’re apples that don’t fall far from the tree.We seewhatpeopleinoursame-but-a-little-bettereconomiclevelhaveanddo,andwevisualizethosethingswhenwedreamaboutourfuture.We’reabletovisualizethehouseaslightlyricherfriendgrewupinorhisfather’sslightlynicercar.Orwemaychoosetobealawyerbecauseourrichfriend’smotherwasalawyer,oranaccountant,orasalesmanager,orwhatever.”Robby chimed in, “So this is why most people improve only in small

incrementsduringtheirlivesratherthanmakingmajorleaps?”“Precisely.Majorleapsarepossible,butthisisoneofthemainreasonswhyit

happenslessoften.It’snotjustbecauselifeissetupwithadvantagesforsomepeople—no way. It’s largely because of our beliefs. Our beliefs are directlyconnected to what we know and what we’ve experienced. If we can believesomethingispossibleforus,wecansetanintentiontobeit,haveit,ordoit.Ifwecansetanintention,wecanachieveitwithourthoughts,words,andactions.Manifestation isacreativeprocess.The truth is,weusuallyonly takeaction ifwebelievetheactionwillbringusaresultwewant.Therefore,everyintentionislimitedbywhatwebelieve,andourbeliefsareaffected—forbetterorworse—byourexperiences.”“Soinordertomakegiantleapsforward,weneedtodiscoverwhatwedon’t

know?”askedRobby.“You got it. This is why motivational gurus like Tony Robbins have been

recommendingforyears thatwesurroundourselveswithpeoplewhoaremoresuccessful thanweare.Therearea lotof reasonswhy this isasmartpractice,but the foundation is thatwe learnwhatwe don’t know just by being aroundpeoplewhoarelivingthelifestylethatwewishtolive.”Robby’smindwas spinning.Neuronswere firing in his brain,making new

connectionslikeneverbefore.Hewasfeelingasenseofclarityaboutwhathadbeenholdinghimback.“I’vebeensoignorant,”heconfessed.“We’reallignorantaboutsomething,dude.Letmegiveyouanexampleabout

whatI’vebeentalkingaboutfrommyownlife.WheneverIusedtogetaclient

whohadtoflymeouttoappraisesomeoftheirsportsmemorabilia,itwasinmycontractthattheyhadtopayfortheplanefare.IdidthatforacoupleyearsuntilCarolineand Iwentwithherparentsona cruise toMexico.Well, herparentspaid for the flight and upgraded all of us to first class using their credit cardpoints.Thatwas the first time inmy life I experiencedwhat itwas like to flyfirst class.Before that I didn’t knowwhat I didn’t know. It’s not awhole lotdifferent, if I’m being honest, but the larger seats, extra legroom, better food,nicer service, and free cocktails certainlymade the flight fromBoston to SanDiegoawholelotnicer.”“I’llhavetotakeyourwordforit,”Robbyteased.“So what do you think is the first thing I did when I got home from that

vacation? I alteredmy contract so it saidmy clients had to pay for first-classairfare.Andguesswhat?Forthenextthreeyears,notoneclienteverblinkedaneyeatflyingmeoutfirstclass.Nobodycomplained.Nobodytriedtonegotiateitdowntocoachorbusinessclass.MynewflyingexperiencehasimprovedhowIfeelaboutmakingthesetrips.Iusedtodreadthem,andnownotsomuch.“BeforethatvacationtoMexico,Icouldn’timagineflyingfirstclass.Ididn’t

knowwhatitwaslike,andIdidn’tfeelworthyofaskingmyclientstopayforit.But once I experienced it, and I saw that everyone else in first class was nodifferentthanme,itchangedmyparadigmsothatIwasabletovisualizenothinglessformyself.”“That’s incredible,” saidRobby. “So are youbuyingus first-class tickets to

NewYorkCity?”“No,Jabba-the-putz.We’redriving.ButI’mgladyou’recoming.”

DAVE ARRIVED to pick up Mary for her lunch break. He walked intoJankowitz Jewelers andwas immediately surprised at how elegant it appearedinside.Itwasanunexpectedcontrasttotheunadornedbrickexterior.AlushOrientalruglayoveranoakfloorinthecustomerarea.Pairsofplush

upholsteredchairswaited in the far cornersopposite the counters.Thedisplaycaseswereframedincherrywoodthathadbeenpolishedtoperfection,andtheglassabovethejewelrywasspotless,coveredonlywithcrystalbowlsfilledwithpinkfoil-coveredchocolatesthatbeckonedtobeeaten.Mary stood behind the counterwaiting on a customer. “Youwere here last

weekwithyourniece,right?Evahelpedyou.”Thewomansmiled.“Yes. I live inNewYorkCitybutvisitmysisterevery

summer.MynieceandIcomehereeveryyeartoaddacharmtoherbracelet.Ithink this was her seventh. This year she chose a tennis racket charm. Sherecentlywonatournament.”“Didyougettowatchthewinningmatch?”askedMary.“Idid.Itwasanail-biter.I’mveryproudofher.”“I’llbetyouare.Andthispearlnecklace,isthisforyou?”“Yes.I’mbeingpresentedwithanawardbackhomethisfall,andIliketobuy

myjewelryherewhenIcan.”“Anaward,huh?”“Yes,it’snobigdeal,butitgivesmeareasontodressup.”

Marylaughedsoftly.“Well,congratulations.”“Thankyou. I think I’llgowith thisnecklacehere.”Thewomanpointed to

oneofthenecklacesMaryhadlaidoutonthedisplaycase.Marypulledapairofearrings from thecase.“I’ll tellyouwhat…ifyou’d

like to get these matching earrings, I can give you twenty percent off theirprice.”Thewomanhesitatedinthought.Maryadded,“Thenecklaceandearringscameintogetherlastweek.Canyou

see how the color differs from these pearls over here? Itmight be difficult tomatch theset later.And,besides,youshould treatyourself.Thissounds likeaspecialoccasion.”Thewomanwavedherhand.“Oh,wrapthembothup.You’reright;Ideserve

it.”Mary placed the necklace and earrings in boxes, processed the sale, and

handedthewomanherbagofitems.“Thankyou,Ms.Horowitz.Havefunattheawardsceremony.”“Iwill,dear.Thanksforyourassistance.”Asthewomanleftthestore,Davetooknotice.HewalkeduptoMaryandsaid

whilestillwatchingthewomanwalkoutthedoor,“Wow!Whoisthat?”Marygiggled.“That’sRuthHorowitz.Evatoldmelastweekwhenshewasin

withherniecethatshe’sbeencominghereforyears.”“She’saclassylady,”saidDave.“Anyideawhatherawardisfor?”“No,shedidn’tseemanxioustosay,andIdidn’twanttopry.”Marywalked

aroundthecounterandgaveDaveahug.“Thanksforcoming.”“Ofcourse,sweetheart.Whatabeautifulstore.Givemethetour.”MaryproudlyescortedDavearoundthestorewhileheatesomeofthepink-

foiledchocolates.SinceMaryhadbeenwithRobbyforfifteenyears,Davewaslike a father to her. She pointed out the most expensive jewelry to him, thejewelryshethoughtwasthemostbeautiful,andthemalabeadssheandEvahadpersonallystrung.“Ididn’tknowyousoldmalabeadshere,”Davesaid.“Wedidn’tatfirst.IrecommendedittoMr.Jankowitz,andhepurchasedfive

malasmade fromgemstoneswhen hewas inBoston.We sold out in aweek.Afterthat,hetaughtEvaandmetostringthemourselves.”“Arethesemalasstrungwithsilk?”Daveasked.“No, silk used to be the first choice for stringing necklaces. It still is for

pearls.But todayweuse syntheticmaterials likenylonandpolyester formostnecklaces. These have the same qualities as silk—even look just like it—buttheydon’tstretchlikesilk,andtheyholdupbettertocosmeticsandperspiration.

Silkgetsdirtieranddiscolorsfasterthanthesenewmaterials.Thesyntheticsaremuchmoredurableinstrengthandcolor,soyoucanwashyourmalabeadsnowandthenwithoutharm.Plus,andIthinkbestofall,silkwormsarenotkilledinordertomakethesyntheticthreads.”“Areyou talkingaboutmonofilament fishing line? Iheard jewelersuse that

sometimes.”Marylaughed.“No,Iheardthat,too.Theseareverysoftcordsthatlook,feel,

andperformjustlikesilk.”“Youcertainlyarelearningalotbyworkinghere,sweetheart.”Mary spoke quietly. “Mr. Jankowitz plays the grumpy old man, but he’s

actuallyverykind.He’staughtmeandEvaalot.”MaryintroducedDavetoEvaandthentoldEvashe’dbebackinanhour.She

and Dave walked down the street to Lani’s Deli & Sandwich Shop. Afterordering their sandwiches, they carried their plates and drinks to one of theoutdoortableswithacanvasumbrella.“IwashappytohearthatRobbyfinallytoldyouabouthismalapractice.”“Me,too.IbelieveIhaveyoutothankforgivinghimhismala,Dave.”“No,not really. Ionlyplayedasmallpart.Hewas ready.Heand thatmala

foundeachother.”Mary stood up,walked over to a counterwith condiments and plasticware,

andgrabbedsomeextranapkins.ShehandedDavea secondnapkinas shesatdown.“You’regoing toneed this,” she said.“These sandwichesaredelicious,butthey’rekindofmessy.”DavewaitedforMarytogetherselfsettledbeforehebeganeating.“Robbytoldyouabouthisdream,too,huh?”askedMary.“Yes,hismom,Margie,hasnowvisitedusbothindreams.”“IheardaboutyourexperienceatMechanicsHall.Thatsoundsamazing.”“I’mnotsureRobbybelievedme,buthismotherwantedmetotellhimabout

it.”“Ithinkhewantstobelievetheseweretruevisitations.He’scomealongway,

but it’s a big jump for him togo frombelieving in thepowerof intentions tobelievinginanafterlife.”“Trustme, I know. I justwish I had found that crow’s feather likeMargie

promisedme.IthinkitwouldhavehelpedifIcouldhaveshownanobjectlikethattoRobby.I’mworriedthatImighthaveoverlookedit.Shemighthaveleftitonmyseatattheconcertorsomethinglikethat.I’mnotalwaysveryobservant.”“Youknow,hehadanotherdreamacouplenightsago,”saidMary.“Hedidn’t

seeMargaretagain,butthedreamhadacrowinit.”DavestoppedeatingandlookedupatMary.“Lasttime,hesaidacrowwoke

himupfromhisdream,right?”“Yes.Thistimeacrowwasactuallyinhisdream.”“Oh, that’sanewone. Ihaven’t seenhim ina fewdays.Tellmeabout it,”

saidDave.“Hewassittingathis favoriteplaceat thereservoirby thewaterfallwhena

crow landedon the rock in frontofhim—inhisdream,of course.Heand thecrow just staredatoneanother.Hesaid it seemed likehourswentbyand thathe’dneverfeltsoatpeace.Hecouldfeelhismother’spresence,buthecouldn’tseeher.Allofasudden,thecrowflewawayandontherockinfrontofhimwasablackfeather.Hepickeditupandsawitwasjetblackexceptforastreakofwhite near the top, just like the one you described from the Gregorian chantconcert.Andthatwastheendofthedream.Prettycool,huh?”“That’sextraordinary.Sheshowedhimthesamefeather.Holymoly!Maybe

that’swhatshemeantshewoulddoafterall.Whatdidhethinkaboutit?”Marywipedherhandsandfacewithanapkin.“Hesaid itwasamazing.He

said it felt like hismotherwas right there, even thoughhe couldn’t see her—almost as if she was the crow. But his skepticism won’t allow him to reallybelieveitwasanythingmorethanadream.HethinksmaybehedreamedaboutitbecauseyoutoldhimyourstoryfromMechanicsHall.”Theysat insilencefora fewminuteseating theirsandwiches.Maryfeltsad

forRobbythathisskepticismgotinhiswayofappreciatingsuchapowerfulgiftfromhismother.Dave got up to lower the umbrella so they could feel the sun on them.He

looked at Mary for approval. “Definitely. Please do,” she told him. Daveloweredtheumbrella,andMaryclosedhereyesandturnedherfacetowardthesun.“Thatfeelsgreat.”Dave sat back down. “So what’s going on with you, Mary? How are you

doing?”“I’ve been good. I was getting a little bored atwork, feeling like I needed

morecreativityinmylife.Youknowthatmylastjobwasdrawingportraitsforpeopleatthephotographystudio,right?”“Yes,Iremember.”“Ilovedthatjob,butmybosswassuchajerkthatIhadtoquititandgetout

of there. Idon’tknowhowIendedupselling jewelry, really. Imet theownerwhenIwentintothestoretosellsomethingandafewweekslaterheofferedmeaposition.I justlovebeingaroundthebeautyofthejewelry.ButlatelyIhavebeenfeelinganeedtoexpressmycreativityagain.”Davelistenedintentlyasheatehisturkeyonrye.“I talked with my friend, Caroline, about it. She suggested that I set an

intentiontofindmorecreativeworkandwaittoseewhattheUniversedelivers.She said thatwhenyoudon’tknowhowyouwant something to look, that’s agoodway to start. So I set the intention and paid attention towhatever signscamemyway.”“She’sawisegal,thatCaroline.”“Robbytellsmeshewasastudentofyoursatonetime.”“Shewas.ButnowIthinkshecouldteachmeathingortwo.Anyway,goon

withyourstory.Istheremore?”“Yes.Aboutaweekandahalfago, thiscouplecameinto the jewelrystore.

Mr.Jankowitzwasn’ttherethatday.Thecouplewererecentlyengaged,butthemanhadn’tgiventhewomananengagementringyet.Hewantedhertodesignitherselfandthenhaveajewelermanufactureit.Sheknewwhatshewanted,butcouldonlydescribe it verbally.Being an artist, I got out apieceofpaper anddrewwhatshedescribedtome.”“Kindoflikeapolicesketchartist,”saidDave.“Actually,alotlikethat.Intwentyminutes,Iwasabletodrawexactlywhat

shewanted.Thewomanwasreallyexcited.Theyevenofferedtopaymeforthesketch,but Ididn’t accept. Iwas justhappy tobeable tohelp themusingmytalent.IknewMr.Jankowitzcouldmakeit.“I showedMr. Jankowitz the drawing the next day and he was impressed,

which surprisedmebecausehedoesn’tget impressedbymuch.Hewas reallypleasedtohaveavisualofwhat thecouplewanted.Hesaiditwouldhelphimgivethemexactlywhattheywanted.”“That’s amazing, Mary.” He pulled out a pen. “Can you show me an

example?”Marypulledafoldedpieceofpaperoutofherpurseandbegantodrawonthe

backofit.Shebegandrawinganoblongcircleandthenaddedsomeshadingtomakeitappearthree-dimensional.Sheexplainedthepartsasshedrewthem.“Thisistheshank,whatmostpeoplethinkofasthering.Wegenerallybegin

with a shank that comes from a casting company. There are thousands ofdifferentshankstochoosefrom,soI’vebeenlookingthroughthecastingbookssoIcanknowwhat’savailablewhencustomerstellmewhattheywant.”She drew some gemstones on the shank. “The gemstones,whether they are

diamonds,emeralds,orwhatever,areheldinplacebythese.Wecallthemheads.The little gold stems on the head that hold the diamond in are prongs. Someshanks have channels in them already from casting, which can hold smallergemstones.But in thisdrawingI’mdoinghere,I’maddingprongsontheside,calledtheshoulder,toholdthesmallergemstones,oraccentstones.Allofthesetopstonestogetherarereferredtoasthegallery.”

Maryquicklydrewacirclearoundherdrawingandpushed thepaperaside.“There are other parts, like the bezel, stamp, and engraving, but you get theidea.”Davepickedupthepapertogetacloserlookatthedrawing.“That’samazing,

Mary.Your artistic talent is obvious, but I can also see how it helps that youknow so much about jewelry. And you’ve learned all this since you startedworkingatJankowitz?”Marynoddedwhileshetookanotherbiteofhersandwich.“Doyouthinkyou’llgettodomoreofthesedrawings?”askedDave.“Oh,right,Ialmostforgot.Soaweeklater,whichwasearlierthisweek,Mr.

Jankowitz arranged for three of his clients to come into the store to havemedrawaring,someearrings,andapendantthattheyhadtriedtodescribetohimatonetime.Hehadneverfeltconfidentcreatingthesepiecesforthembasedontheirverbaldescriptionsalone.Iwasabletodrawexactlywhattheywanted,andMr. Jankowitzhadprearrangedwith them topayme seventy-fivedollars eachforthedrawings,overandabovemyregularsalary.”“ItlookslikeyougotyourmessagefromtheUniverse.”“Yup,aclearone.Ididn’tevenhavetointerpretthesigns.Theywerecrystal

clear.Mr.Jankowitzhastwomorepeoplecominginlatertoday.”“Yourbossseemsunusuallygenerous.”“I thought thesame thing. It’suncanny.Maybe it’sbecause I recommended

thathebeginsellingmalabeads.They’rebecomingquitepopular.”“That’s a great story,Mary.You really seem to be able to createwhat you

wantinlifewithease.HaveyouandCarolinediscussedthat?”“She said that, too, so she asked me a bunch of questions about my life

growingupandshecametooneconclusion.Shesaidthatmyparentsinstilledinmeasenseoffeelingdeservingofgoodthingsinmylife.Shesaidthatalotofpeopledon’thavethat.”“She’s right, a lot of people lack that quality. It’s an internal belief that

plaguesoursociety.Itderivesfromtheideathatlifeissupposedtobehardandpainful, and that only special people get to bewealthy, healthy, fit, happy, orloved.”Dave continued. “It’s not that people tell themselves that they aren’t

deserving. It’s more that they ask themselves, ‘Who am I to deserve suchthings?’Theyfeelasenseofshame inexpectingcomfortandabundance fromlife,whether in the formof luxuries, love,or justplaingoodfortune.And thisbecomesabeliefthathindersthesuccessfulmanifestationoftheirdesires.”Maryfinishedhervegetariansub.SheandDaveclearedtheirtableandthrew

theplatesandnapkinsintherecyclingbucket.Thentheyheadedbacktowardthe

store. “Is it possible to overcome the belief that you’re undeserving?” askedMaryastheywalkeddownthesidewalk.“It can be easier than itmight seem.The first step is awareness.Once you

knowit’sthere,thesecondstepistorecognizeitwhenitpopsup.Themomentyou notice that you’re feeling unworthy or asking yourself, ‘Who am I todeserve this?’ you must compensate for it by remembering that every singlepersoninthisworldisequallydeservingofeverypleasureandpursuit.“Even though we all came into this world in different bodies and under

different circumstances, an abundanceof love, joy, safety, peaceofmind, andmaterialpossessionsisequallyavailabletoall.Infact,youneednotfullybelieveit toacquirewhatyoudesire.IfyoujustopenyourmindtothepossibilitythatCreativeIntelligencedoesn’tplayfavorites,youwillsoonlearnthatit’strue.”“I must admit that I’m grateful that I don’t have that particular belief to

overcome,” said Mary. “I do think Robby thinks in that limiting waysometimes.”“Oh,youbethedoes.I’msurethatI’mpartlytoblameforthatinsomeway.

But thisworkhe’sdoingwithhismala is teachinghim, littleby little, thathedeservestohavewhateverhewantsfromlife.Andyouserveasagoodexample,kiddo.”“Thanks,Dave.”Thetwostoppedmidwayonanironbridgeandlookedintothebrookbelow

where a male and a female duck were swimming. They dipped their headsunderwater,thencamebackupandshookthewateroff.“Sohowaboutyou?What’sgoingoninyourlife?Youlookamazingbythe

way,”saidMaryastheycontinuedwalking.“Thanks.Ifeelamazing.I’mexercisingdaily,eatingalotoffreshvegetables,

andoneimportantlessonIlearnedoverthelastcouplemonthsishowvitalitistohaveareasontogetupinthemorning.”Maryasked,“Tohavepurpose?”“That’sright.Anypurposewilldo.Wedon’tneedtosavetheworld.Ihave

hadafewfriendswhostayedaliveuntiltheirpetsdiedandthendiedashorttimelaterthemselves.Takingcareoftheirdogorcatwasenoughreasontogetthemoutofbedinthemorning.”“That’skindofsad,though,thattheydiedaftertheirpetsdied.”“Itis.Theydidn’trealizetheirpetsweretheirpurpose.Iftheyhad,I’msure

theywouldhavefoundanewpurposeforthemselves.”“Mygrandfatherdiedsoonafterheretired,”saidMary.“Ialwaysbelievedit

wasbecausehewasboredwithlife.Hehadnoreasontogetoutofbed,asyousaid.”

“It’smorecommonthanyoumightthink.Andit’ssadbecauseit’scompletelyavoidable.We’ve been sold this idea that retiring is theAmerican dream, butfewpeoplerealizethatretirementcanbeboring,whichisnotahealthystateofmind.Weneedtoreplaceworkwithanewpurpose.Ihaveretiredfriendswhoare thriving physically andmentally just because they play golf a few days aweek.Ortheyhavegrandchildrenwhotheylovespendingtimewith,orthey’rewriting theirmemoirs.Havingpurpose is a little secretof life that I’ve finallylearnedmyself.“What’syourreasonforgettingoutofbedthesedays,Dave?”Davestoppedonthesidewalktowatchayoungboywhowasplayingwitha

toyfiretruck.Hewasleaningoverthesidewalkdangerouslyclosetothepassingtraffic.Daveleaneddownsotheboywouldseehim.Whenhecaughttheboy’sattention,hepointedtothecarsgoingby.Theboy’seyesopenedwide,andhepickeduphistoyandwalkedtothesideofthebuilding.Hestartedplayingagainlikenothinghappened.“Well,when I’mnot saving little boys fromgetting hit by cars, I have two

reasonsforgettingoutofbed.Initially,helpingRobbylearnwhatIhavelearnedinlifeiswhatturnedmearound.MorerecentlyI’vebeenteachingpatientshowtomeditateforhealingatthehospital.”“Noway!Howcomewedidn’tknowthis?”“Well,I justgotstarted.FatherBurkeandPaula,oneofthenursesupthere,

helped me put a class together. I have ten people I’m teaching already. I’mhaving a blast, andmy students are already experiencing health benefits fromdoingmeditation.”MaryheldDave’sarmastheywalked.“You’reproofthatitworks,soyou’re

theperfect teacher for them.What anicepurposeyou’vecreated foryourself.Youinspireme.”Dave looked up to see they were approaching the jewelry store. “Well, I

should probably inspire you to get back towork.You have some peoplewhoneed your help with their jewelry design. Do you realize that you’re helpingpeoplemaketheirvisionsareality?”“Hmm,Ilikethat.Andthey’rehelpingmeusemytalentinreturn.It’sawin-

win.”MarygaveDaveabighugandkisson thecheek.“Thanksfor takingme to

lunch,Dave.And for all you’ve taughtme.You have a lot to sharewith theworld.”“Youseemtobedoingjustfineonyourown.Thepleasurehasbeenallmine,

pumpkin.”

ROBBYSATAThisdesk, tappinghispenon thephone.Hewanted tocallSamueltoaskforareferraltohiseditororagent,buthewasn’tusedtoaskingforhelp.Askingforhelpisaformofaction,heremindedhimself.IthelpstheUniverse

helpyou.Themorepeopleweincludeinoureffortstofulfillourintentions,theeasieritisfortheUniversetomakeithappen.Hisstomachachedatthethoughtofwhathewasabouttodo.It’s a limiting belief to think that asking for help is rude or overstepping

boundaries.Whotaughtmethatbeliefanyway?Robby picked up the phone and dialed Samuel’s number.Although hewas

fearful and wanted to quickly hang up when he heard the first ring, hestraightenedhisbodyandfoundthecouragetopushforward.Thephonestoppedringing. “Samuel Thurston’s office,” said a woman’s voice. “How can I helpyou?”“IsSamuelavailable?ThisisRobbyRobinsoncalling.”“I’llseeifhe’savailable,Mr.Robinson.”Robby listened to themusic on the linewhile hewas on hold.After a few

minutes,hestartedsingingalongwithit.“Robby?”Robbywastakenbysurprise,hopingSamuelhadn’theardhimsingingdisco.“Hi,Samuel,thanksfortakingmycall.Howareyou?”

“Fantastic.Howareyou?”“I’mgood,too.”“Oh Robby, I’m glad you called. My book’s release is in August. They

changed the title like you said they might. However, you should know, theyreallylikedyourwriting.You’reanamazingwriter,Robby—myeditorsaidsoseveraltimes.”“It’snicetohearthatfeedbackbecausethetruthisthatIrarelyeverfindout

whathappenstothebooksIghostwrite.”“You’rekidding.”“No.Myclientsdon’tusuallyfollowupwithme,whichI lookatasagood

sign.Peoplewillordinarilycallonlyifthere’saproblem.Butfewevertakethetime to giveme a compliment—except you, of course. You sent a big checkalongwithyourpraise.”“Youdeservedit.AndIcangiveyousomemorefeedbackthatyoumightnot

know.Publishers loveyou,man.Evenmyliteraryagentknewyourname. I’msureyouknowthattwoofthebooksyouwroteforyourclientshittheNewYorkTimesBestsellerList,right?”Robbypulledthephoneawayfromhisearandlookedatit.“What?Areyou

serious?”“Thenyoudidn’tknow.Howcouldyounotknowthat?”“Like I said, I get very little feedback from past clients. I’m not likemost

ghostwriters.Mycontractallowsthemnot toputmynameonthebook,whichmostofmyclients love.AndIdon’task forapercentageof royalties, so theydon’t need to tellme. Plus, since publishers almost always change the title, Idon’talwaysrecognizemyclients’bookswhenthey’rebeingreviewed.Sowhatmorecanyoutellmeaboutthesetwobestsellers?”“That’sreallyallIknow.Icangetyouthenamesofthosetwobooks,though.

I’ll email them to you. As far as your reputation goes,my agent said its onefactorinwhyIgotthegenerousadvancethatIdid.Itwaswrittenbyatwo-timeNewYorkTimes-bestsellingghostwriter.”Robby’smindwas racing.Hegot lost in thought for amoment thinkinghe

mightactuallyhaveashotatgettingpublished.“Youstillthere,Robby?”“Yeah,sorry,Ijusthadnoideaaboutanyofthis.Mybrainiswhirling.”“AreyoucuriousaboutwhatIgot?”“Ofcourse.I’mjustnotsoboldtoask.Irespectyourprivacy.”“That’swhyIlikeyou,RobertRobinson.Let’sjustsayIgotbackwhatIpaid

youandthensome.How’sthat?Butkeepitbetweenus,okay?”Robbyplayedwiththenumbersinhishead.Okay,somyfeewasseventy-five

thousand,andhegotmorethanthat…somaybeeightytoonehundredgrand?Holycow!“Mum’stheword.Thankyouforsharingthat.It’shelpfultome.Infact,it’s

kindofwhyIcalled.Iwanttostartwritingmyownbooks,andIwaswonderingif you could giveme some advice on finding a publisher ormaybe a literaryagentforabookoffiction?”“Congratulations. I always wondered why you weren’t doing that already.

Look, I’ll email you the name of my agent, but I think he only representsnonfictionbooks.I’llalsogiveyoumyeditor’snameatthepublishingcompany.She’s inNewYorkCity.You’rewelcome to telleitherof them that I referredyou. In fact, emailme back if youwantme to contact one of them ahead oftime.”Robbythoughtabout thecoincidenceofSamuelmentioninghiseditorbeing

inNewYorkCitysincehealreadyhadplanstogotherewithMatt.Hedidn’tmentionwherehisagentisfrom,hethoughttohimself,onlywhere

his editor is located.That’sacoincidence thatmightbea sign, even ifonlyasmallone.RobbythankedSamuelforhisgenerosityandwishedhimluckwithhisbook

launch.Afterhangingup thephone,hewas soexcitedaboutgetting thenews from

Samuelthatheopenedhislaptopandstartedworkingonhisbookagain.Writinghis own book gave him an energetic high that few things in life ever did.Hehoped that vibrating at this frequencywould be helpful in attracting the rightagentorpublisher.

DAVE STOPPED IN at St. Vincent’s Hospital to find Father Burke. Hecheckedthechapel,buthewasn’tthere.Davelookedoveratthepewwherehehadhealedhimselfwithmeditation.Hefeltasurgeofgratitudefillhisbodyandgotgoosebumpsonhisskinasatingleranuphisspine.Hewentup to the third floor tosayhello to thenurses.Paula lethimknow

thatthechaplainwasattendingtoapatientwhowassoontopassawayinRoom305,Dave’soldroom.“Youknow,thatcouldhavebeenme,Paula.”Sherespondedinherloudvoice.“Oh,youdon’thavetotellme.Wehadbets

atthenurses’stationonwhatdayyouweregoingtocheckout.”Davelookedatherinshock.“I’mjustkidding,”shesaid,“butyoushouldseethelookonyourfaceright

now.”“Yougotme,Paula,”Davetoldher.Hewasalittleunsettled,butheknewit

wasjustherpeculiarsenseofhumor.A few minutes later, Father Burke came out of Dave’s old room looking

somber.Paularanbackintotheroomtocheckonthepatient.Theminister’sfacelitupuponseeingDave.“Youokay,Father?”askedDaveastheyshookhands.“Ohyeah.That’sapartofthiscallingthatismeaningfulbutneverenjoyable.”

Hepaused.“Whatareyoudoingheretoday?Youdon’thaveameditationclass,

doyou?”Dave placed his hand on the minister’s back, and they walked toward the

elevators. “No. I’mhere to see you. Is there somewhere privatewe can go totalk?”“Hardlyanyonegoesoutinthecourtyard.Wanttogodownthere?”Themen took theelevatordown to the first floor,making small talkon the

way.“Summer’salmostover.Canyoubelieveit?”askedDave.“Iknow.EverytimeIturnaround,it’sFridayagain.Theweeksareflyingby,

andI’vespentmostofmydaysinthishospital.Ineedtogetoutmore.”The men sat down on the concrete bench in the outdoor courtyard among

flowers, ferns, and birds. Burke took a whiff of a butterfly bush that wasreachingouttowardhim.“What’sonyourmind,David?”“Well, when you told me the story of how your father left you with your

mother’sparentsafter shediedgivingbirth toyou, Icouldn’tget itoutofmyhead.Andwhen you said that you never saw your father again, that you hadbeentoldhewashomelessandaddictedtoalcohol,IrecognizedthatImightbeabletogetsomeinformationabouthimduetomyconnections.”Burke’sheadwascockedashetriedtofigureoutwhereDavewasgoingwith

this.“RememberhowItoldyouthatIownedanadvertisingagency?”“Yes,Iremember.”“Well,thereasonIwasabletoteachatthecollegewasbecauseIwaspretty

muchhands-offatmyagency.TheonlyroleIplayedwastoschmoozethebigclientsnowandthen.Itwasmybusinesspartnerwhorantheagencyfromdaytoday,andhe’stheonewhoboughtmyhalfofthebusinessafterMargiedied.”BurkewasleaningtowardDave,hangingoneveryword.“Well,hecontactedmeyesterday.Ihadcalledhimafewweeksagobecause

weusedtodonatealotofmoneytothehomelesssheltersinthecitybackintheday.He’sstillinvolvedwiththoseshelters,sohecontinuestohaveconnectionswith the people whomanage them. He didme a favor and checked to see ifanyonewithyourlastnameevercomesintotheshelters.Helearnedthatthere’saGeorgeBurkewhofrequentstheshelteronSouthMainStreet.”Burkegasped.“That’smyfather’sname,”hesaid.“Ivisitedtherelastnight,”saidDave,“atthetimewhenGeorgeisknownto

showupforsupper,andhewasthere.Italkedwithhim.He’sanoldmannow,eighty-nine, but he’s as sharp as a tack. He’s also sober. He lives out of ahalfwayhouseinthatarea.”Theministerwasstaringattheflowers,hishandsholdingtightlytohisknees.

Dave couldn’t interpretwhat hewas thinking, so he continued talking. “I toldhimyou’remyfriendandaskedifhehadanyinterestinmeetingyou.Hedoes,quitesincerely.Infact,hecriedthemomentImentionedyournameandneverreally stopped thewhole timewe talked. I lethimknow thatyoudidn’tknowanythingaboutmelookingforhim.AndwhileIapologizeifI’vestuckmynosewhere itdoesn’tbelong, Ihopeyou’llknowthatmy intentionscomefrommyheart.”Father Burke’s face was now soaked in tears, and his entire body was

quivering.Hehadtogatherhimselftobeabletotalk.Whenhecouldspeak,helookedupatDave.“Myfriend,youknowmewellenoughtounderstandthatthisisanareaofmylifewhereIhavecravedanswersandclosurefordecades.That’sthe reason for my weepiness. My shaking hands, on the other hand, arecommunicatingmyfearofpossiblybeinghurtagain.Ifeltahurtsodeepthatitledmeintothiscalling.”Afterapausetocatchhisbreath,hecontinued.“IthinkIbelievedatonetime

that if I could help otherswith their emotional suffering, Imight in turn helpmyself.Ofcourse,we’rebotholdenoughnowtoknowthatitdoesn’tworkthatway.“This is something I’ve always needed, so I’m thankful to you for what

you’vedone.I’mscared,naturally,butIdefinitelywouldliketomeetwithmyfather.Quitefrankly,I thought thatopportunitywasgone.Icanhardlybelievehe’sstillalive.”Withthatthought,FatherBurkeletouthisemotions.Daveheldhisfriendas

hesobbed.Whentherewerenomore tears tocry,Davesatwithhimwhilehethoughtabouttheprospectofmeetinghisfather.Minuteslater,astheyweresittingquietly,awomanwearingalavenderrobe

walkedintothecourtyard.Shepulledanoxygentankbehindher.Aplastictubewrapped around her head and rested under her nose. The woman didn’tacknowledgethemenbutinsteadwalkedtothefarsideofthecourtyard.Davelookedattheministerandshruggedhisshoulders.Burke said softly, “Nurse Becky told me that she’s not a happy woman. I

stoppedbytointroducemyselftheotherday,andshemadeitclearthatbecauseshedoesn’tbelieveinGodshewantsnothingtodowithme.”“Clarityincommunicationisgood,”Davesaidwithasmile.Burke smirked. “Noonewould accuse her of being ambiguous.Becky said

shewon’t let anyonevisit her.Her adult childrenhave come to seeher at thehospital,butshewon’tevenseethem.”Hearingthisdetailtriggeredathought,soDavedecidedtosharesomethinghe

believedmight be helpful to his friend. “I’d like to share somethingwith you

thatIthinkmightberelevanttoyoursituationwithyourfather.Isthatokay?”“You’veneversteeredmewrong.”“Have I ever explained to you my philosophy on why the people who

challengeusorhurtusareinourlives?”“Ihavemyownideas,butI’dlovetohearyours.”“Well, I’ll give youmy take on it, forwhat it’sworth.”Dave took a deep

breathandgatheredhis thoughts.Thenhe said, “Thepeople inour lives—ourfriends, family members, coworkers, employees, and employers—serve asmirrors tous.Theyreflectbacktouswhereweneedgrowthandhealing.Andthey will continue to do this until we either heal the part of us that they’reshowingusortheygrowinsuchawaythattheyarenolongeramatchforus.Iftheygrowandmoveon, someoneelse is sure to fill theirplaceuntilwedon’tneeditanymore.”Burkethoughtaboutit.“I’mprettysureIknowtheconcept,butI’mnotclear

onwhyyou’resharingitwithmenow.Pleasecontinue.”Dave thought about the proper terminology to usewith his religious friend.

“Letmesayitadifferentway,”hefinallysaid.“Idon’tthinkourrelationshipsexistwithoutdivineinfluence.Ibelieveeverypersonhelpseveryotherpersoninhisorherlifetogrow,tolearn,andtoheal.”Theministernodded,waitingformore.“Itallstartswithourfamilies,right?ThosearethepeopleGodsetupforusin

orderthatwehaveparticularchildhoodexperiencesthatwillsetusonthepathHechoseforus.Wouldyouagree?”“Mostdefinitely,”saidBurke.“I don’t believe every parent-child relationship is what we might consider

healthy,”Davecontinued,“butIdobelievethateveryparent-childrelationshipis such that it setsusonapath to learnveryvaluable lessons, informationwewillknowfortherestofourlivesandforalleternity.Areyoustillwithme?”“Verymuchso.Continue.”“Well, some of our familial relationships are painful, so they require us to

heal.FromthehealingofourpaincomethelessonsGodintendsforustolearn.Ifwe separate from thosepainful family relationshipsbeforeweheal,whodoyouthinkweattractintoourlivestohelpushealthatpain?”“Otherpeople.”“Exactly: friends, coworkers, employers, business partners, lovers, spouses.

We attract friends, for instance, who are like energetic puzzle pieces that fitperfectlywithourownenergeticpuzzlepieces.IfI’mneedy,I’llattractsomeonewho likes to be needed. If I’mweak, I’ll attract someonewho likes being thestrong person in a relationship. If I’m a caretaker, Iwill attract someonewho

needs to be cared for. If I’m not good at having fun, I’ll attract a friendwhoteachesmetoplay.”“Thinkingofmyfriendsovertheyears,thisnotionhasdefinitelyplayedoutin

mylife,”saidFatherBurke.“Noteveryfamilymemberorfriendisgoingtofitintothisscenario,butmost

willhavesomethingtoeitherteachus,evenifjustbyexample,ortobetaughtbyus.Butthemostchallengingrelationships,I’vefound,aresomeofthemostimportant.”“Canyougivemeanexamplefromyourownlife?”askedtheminister.“Ican.WhenIwasateenager,Iranmyownoddjobbusiness.Iwouldmow

lawns,washwindows, clean leaf gutters, all types of basic handymanwork. Imade pretty good money at it, too, at least for my age. My father alwaysstruggled financially, somy successmirrored to himwhat hewas not able toaccomplish.Theresultwasthathefeltthreatenedbymyfinancialsuccess.“OnedayIboughtanewcarwiththemoneyIhadsavedfrommyhardwork.

Itwasausedcar,but itwasnew tome. Itwasnice. ItwasablackChevyElCaminoSS,whichwassortofacarwithapickuptruckbed.Ithadfive-spokeSSwheels,abenchseatsomygirlcouldcuddleuptome,aV-eightenginewithaluminumheads,andfouronthefloor.“WhenIbroughtmynewcarhomefromthedealershiptoshowmyfamily,it

wasmorethanobviousthatmyfatherwasjealous.Hewouldn’tevenlookatitwhentherestofmyfamilycameoutsidetocheckitout.Afterthatday,hegotmoreandmorecompetitivewithme,andletmejustsaythatitisreallyoddtohave your own father being competitive with you instead of supportive andhappyforyoursuccessesinlife.”“Icanonlyimagine,”saidBurke.Thewomanwiththeoxygentankwalkedslowlybythemenagainonherway

backtowardthehospitaldoorway.Again,shedidn’tlookatthem.Davewaitedforhertoleavebeforefinishinghisstory.Whentheautomaticdoorsopenedandshesteppedthroughwithhertank,hecontinued.“Well,myfatherdiedwhenIwasstillyoung,soIwasunabletohealthatpart

ofourrelationship.Consequently,yearslater,someonenewcameintomylifetofillhisplace.Ididn’tknowitthen,butthispersonshoweduptohelpmehealthedamagecausedbymyfather’sinabilitytobeproudofmysuccesses.”“Doyouknowwhatthatdamagewas?”askedtheminister.“I do now. I didn’t then. I knew subconsciously thatmy father showedme

lovewhenIfailed,whenIwassick,orwhenIwasinturmoil.Yethewithheldhis lovewhenIwassuccessful financially,whenIwonanawardatschool,orwhenIexcelledinsports.Worsethanwithholdinghislove,heactuallygotmean

whenhe learnedaboutmysuccesses.Hewouldgivememorechores,criticizewhatIdid,andnotallowmetodothingsIwanted,likegotoapartyIwantedtoattendonSaturdaynight.“Thedamage in response tohisbehaviorwas that I unconsciouslywithheld

myself from succeeding anymore. I pulledmyself back from achievingmanythingsIcouldhaveinmylife.Inasense,Idiminishedmyselfinordertomakemyfatherfeelbetterabouthimself.”“Sadly, thatmakes sense,” said theminister. “I’ve seen that same response

fromseveralchildrenI’vecounseled.”“So years after my father passed, I made a new friend. We had a lot in

common.Wehadalotoffuntogether.AndhebecameverydeartobothMargieandme.Butguesswhat?”“Hegotcompetitivewithyou?”“Yup.Inlessthanayear,I learnedhewasthetypeofpersonwhowasvery

competitive.Helikedtosurroundhimselfwithpeoplewhowerelesssuccessfulthanhimsothathecouldbethemostsuccessfulpersonamonghisfriends.Thismadehimfeelbetterabouthimself. Ibelievehewasattracted tomebecauseIhadthisautomatictriggerinsidetoshrinkinordertomakeothersfeelsuperiortome,whichwassomethingIlearnedtodobecauseofmyfather.“Aboutayearintoourfriendship,hebecamemoreandmorecompetitivewith

me.Hecouldneverfeelhappyformycareersuccesses,yethealwaysexpectedme to be happy for his, and, of course, I was genuinely happy for hisachievements in life. Sadly, for me at least, this was a constant thorn in ourrelationship.Irecognizeditanditangeredme,butIneverconfrontedhimaboutit.”FatherBurke’sattentionwas focusedonDave’s story.He satquietly facing

him,waitingtohearwhathappenednext.Davecontinued.“Ihavealwaysbeenproactiveaboutmypersonalgrowth,so

Iwenttomytherapistonedaywiththeintentionofdealingwiththisissue.Thiswastwelveyearsintomyrelationshipwiththisguy.Iwasawareofmyfriend’scompetitivenesstowardme,butIwasn’tyetawareofthesimilaritybetweenmyfather’sbehaviorandhis.Ihadnevermadetheconnectionuntilthatday.“Iwentintomeditationwiththetherapist,whichissomethingwedidinevery

session. My awareness heightened and my understanding of this friendshipbecameclear.Ihadabig-pictureviewofeverythingthatwasgoingonbetweenus. I also recognized thatmy friendwas providingmewith an opportunity tohealthewoundthatIwasn’tabletohealwithmydad.”DaverepositionedhisbodyandputhishandonBurke’sshoulder.“Whatthis

bird’s-eye view from my meditation provided me was the ability to see my

father’sbehaviorandmyfriend’sbehaviorforwhatitreallywas.TheirreactiontowhatIwasdoingwasrelatedtotheirowndemons.“Itwasn’tthattheydidn’tloveme.Itwasthattheybothhadpastwoundsof

theirownthattriggeredthemtofeelpoorlyaboutthemselveswhenotherpeoplearound them succeeded, even if those other people were family members orfriends.You see,Father, I learned that itwasneverabouthow they felt aboutme.Itwasalwaysabouthowtheyfeltaboutthemselves.Andthatparadigmshiftmadeallthedifferenceforme.”Burke’seyesgotmisty.“Thatwasapowerfulrecognition,”hesaid.Dave went on. “Like a bolt of awareness, I recognized how my father’s

energyandmyfriend’senergywerelikepuzzlepiecesthatfitperfectlywithmyownenergeticpuzzle.Igothomefromthattherapysessionandcoincidentally—divine coincidence—my wife, Margie, was talking to this very friend on thephone.Hewassayingsomethingindicatingtoherthathewasbeingcompetitivewithmeanditwasupsettingherbecausesheknewhowmuchithurtmewhenhedidthat.“Igot infrommyincredible therapysessionrightasshehungup thephone

feeling angry at him. She told me what he said and it had absolutely noemotionaleffectonme.Iknewinthatmomentthatwhateverholdmyfriend’senergyhadonmepriortothatdayhadreleasedbecauseofmynewawareness.Myperceptionhadshifted.Thetormentwasfinallyover.”“Wow!Whatwasthatlike?”askedBurke.“I knew in that moment that our relationship would change because a

transformation had occurred. I still loved my friend. I just knew that theenergetic cords that held us together for twelve years had broken. I no longerneeded someone I loved to be so fiercely competitive with me. I no longerneededtobeinarelationshipthatwasasone-sidedasours,withmesupportinghimbutnottheotherwayaround.“IalsoknewwhatIfeltwasn’timaginary.Itwasreal.AndIknewmyfriend

feltit,too.Withoutanywordbetweenus—nokindwordsandnoharshwords—wenaturallydriftedapartafterthatday.Wesaweachotheronceortwiceayear.Istillfeltloveforhim.I’msurehefeltthesame.IevengrievedthelossofthefriendshipasIhadknownit.However,afterthatday,Imovedforwardinmylifeachangedman.”Theautomaticdoorstothehospitalopened,andatechnicianwalkedintothe

courtyard. He was looking around the courtyard for someone. Father Burkespokeup.“Lookingforawomanwithatankintow?”“Yes.Seenher?”“Shewashereafewminutesago.Isawhertakealeftthroughthedoors.”

“Thanks,Father.Shekeepswalkingoffbeforeher treatment. I knowwhereshewent.”The technician hurried out the door and down the hallway. Father Burke

turned his attention back to Dave. “That’s quite a story. If you don’t mindsharing,howdidthistransformationaffectyourlife?”“Theeffectwassignificant.Mycareerandfinancesflourishedafterthatday.I

realizedhowmanywaysIhadbeenholdingbackmyownsuccessinordernottoupsetsomeoneIloved.Ihadnotdonesoconsciously.Nonetheless,onceIwasfree frommyunconscious response to their conditional love, I took off like arocketinmanydifferentareasofmylife.”“That’s a great example of howour relationships can hold us back,”Burke

commented.“Especially those thatare troublesome,Father.That’swhyI’ve toldyoumy

story,ifonlyasaremindertoyou.Yourrelationshipwithyourfatherhaslikelyaffectedyouinonewayoranother throughoutyourentire life. Inyourcase, itwasyourlackofarelationshipwithhimthatimpactedyou.Somepeopleaffectuswithoutevenbeingpresent.”Twoblackbutterflieswith ahint of blue in theirwings flew in front of the

men,appearingtobeplaying.Onelanded,andtheotherflewoff.Whenthatonelanded,theotherflewtowardit.Eventuallytheybothflewsidebysideuntiltheylandedonafencesurroundingthecourtyard.BurkelookedatDave.“Thewayyoudescribeyourexperience,it’sclearyou

donotseeyourselfasavictimineitherofthesecases.Iwouldconcurwiththat.Everyone has these troublesome relationships in their lives, right? No one isexcluded. Instead of being victimized by them, if we view our challengingrelationshipsasbeingtheretoteachussomethingGodwantsustoknow,wecanlearnourlessonsfaster.Isthatyourtakeonit?”“Forsure,”saidDave,nodding.“Weallhaveourissues.Ourfamilymembers

andfriendshavetheirstuff,andwehaveourstuff.WhatIfindespeciallyhealinginmy own life is to try to understandwhat their stuff is. I believe ifwe canrecognizewhytheymightbethinkingorsayingthethingstheydooractingtheway they do,we can resolve the issues that plague us, or at least remove theemotional chargeswe feel around them. This leads to detachment,which is agiant leap forward from being emotionally captured and controlled by ouremotionalstuff.”FatherBurkewasexcitedthatDavehadmentionedtheconcept.“Inmyown

counselingwork in the Episcopal church and also here at the hospital, I havewitnessedthis inaction.Whenpeopleareable toseewhytheotherpeopleareacting theway they are, they almost always realize it has nothing to dowith

them.Instead,there’susuallysomethinggoingonwiththeotherpersonathome,school,orworkthatisbehindthehurtfulwordsoractions.Oftenonepersonismerelymisinterpreting the other.That happens a lot.Whenpeople are able tostoptakingthingspersonally, it removesthatemotionalchargeyoumentioned,whichhelpseveryoneseewithmoreclarity.”“When I taught at the college, Father, I would teach my students that

perspective is thoughtandthought isenergy—creativeenergy.Creativeenergycoupledwithemotionisaverypowerfulforce.“If our perspective is such that we take other people’s words or actions

personally, that powerful force, basically our feelings about their words oractions,canturnourlivesupsidedown.Therefore,givingourselvesdistanceinordertoseeanotherperson’sperspectivecansaveusalotofmisery.”Theministertookadeepbreathandseemedtorelax.“Ireallyappreciateyou

remindingmeofthatinsightandsharingyourpersonalstorywithme.I’mgoingtokeepthatinmindwhenIgotovisitmyfatherattheshelter.I’mgoingtolookfor the lesson if I can recognize it. And I’m going to try to understand hisperspectiveonwhyhewalkedawayfromhisresponsibilitytoraiseme.PerhapsthestoriesI’vebeentellingmyselfmywholelifearenotaccurate.”“Amen,Father.”Thetwomensatquietlytogetherinthecourtyardgarden.Afterfiveminutes

had passed, Paula walked into the courtyard looking for them. “Hey Father.Don’t mean to interrupt your discussion out here, but someone else hasrequestedlastrites.It’sbeenoneofthosedays.”Daveasked,“Dotheystillcallitlastrites?”“That was a Catholic phrase from the past. I think most Christians call it

ministrationtothesickorministrywiththesick.Iusuallycallitprayingwiththesick.Whatwedon’t say isministry to thedyingbecauseyou justneverknow.I’veprayedwithpeoplewhothoughttheyweredyingonlytoseethemwalkoutofthehospitaltwoweekslaterandlivelonglives.”Davenoddedwithasmile.TheministerstoodupandgrabbedDave’shand,lookinghimintheeyes.“I’ll

get the details from you later about meeting my father. I’m scared, but I’mgrateful.You’reagoodfriendforinvestigatinghiswhereaboutsforme,”hesaid,pattinghisfriend’shand.ThenheandPaulawalkedbackthroughthedoorsintothehospitalwhileDavestayedinthecourtyard.DaveusedthemomenttovisualizeahealingmeetingbetweenJonathanBurke

andhisfather,George.

“IT’SGOINGTOcostmoretofixitthanthecarisworth?It’snotgoingtopassinspection?It’stimetotradeitin?That’swhathesaid?”askedRobby.Marynodded.“Themechanic’sexactwords.”Robby kicked his empty plastic trashcan across his office and fell into his

chair.“Suchlousytiming,”hesaid.Marywalkedupbehindhim,kissedhimonthehead,andcaressedthebackof

hisneck.“We’redoingfine.There’stheincomeI’mearningatJankowitz,andwe still have money in the bank from your contract with Dale. That’s whyclientspaysomuchupfront.Ifsomethinghappens,likeitdidtoDale,yougetcompensatedbecauseittakessolongtogetanotherclient.Onlythistime,you’regoingtobeyourownclient.”Robbyagonizedattheideaofspendingmoney.Itwasdifficultforhimtofeel

confident that everythingwas going towork out.Hewished he could be likeMary,butoptimismdidn’tcomeasnaturallytohim.“WhatifIdon’tgetapublishingcontract?Whatwillhappentousthen?”“Don’t forget, Robby, I’m earning more from my drawings at work now.

We’llgetby,we reallywill.Plus,youhave tobelieve.Youhave tostopyournegativethinking.Youknowhowharmfulthatis.”Mary alwaysknewhow to zero in onwhatRobbyneeded to hear.The last

thing hewantedwas to createwhat he feared by thinking pessimistically. Hetook a deep breath and tried to surrender to the present moment. “I know. I

know.You’reright.Whatchoicedowehave,really?Theoldwagon’snotgoingtopassinspection.Ontheotherhand,maybewecouldgetbywithjustonecarforawhile.”“Robby,ifyoudrivemetoworkandpickmeupeveryday,that’stwohours

ofdrivingeachdaywhenyoucouldbewritingyourbook.InadditiontowhichIwon’thaveacartorunerrandsduringmylunchbreaks.Thatmeansyou’llhavetogotothebank,grocerystore,healthfoodstore,postoffice,andanywhereelseIwouldnormallygo.That’sanotherhouradaythatyoucouldbewriting.Inafive-dayworkweek,that’sfifteenhoursaweekyou’llbedrivingaroundinsteadofwriting—allbecauseyouhaveastrongerbeliefinfailurethansuccess.”Robby thought about it for amoment and lookedup atMarywhowas still

standingbehindhimcaressinghisneck.“YouhaveabetterhandleonthepowerofourthoughtsthanIdo.You’reright.Fifteenhoursaweekisalotoftimetoforfeit in order to save a few hundred dollars amonth.Geez, that’s like sixtyhoursamonth.”Hehesitated in thoughtand thenadded,“Okay,butyou’re inchargewhenwegotothedealership.Ihatedealingwithcarsalesmen,andyourfather taught you all their secrets. So I’m just coming along to support you,okay?”Maryliftedherhandintheairandhehigh-fivedit.“Leaveinfiveminutes?”sheasked.“I’mthrilled,”hesaidsarcastically.Robby really despised buying cars. The tension, the manipulation, and the

negotiationstrategiesturnedhisstomach.HewasgladMarywasn’tintimidatedbyit.On the ride to the dealership, she instructedRobby onwhatwould happen.

“Thesalesmanisgoingtowanttotalktoyou.Nomatterhowfarwethinkwe’vecome in gender equality, most male contractors, real estate agents, andsalespeopleinalmosteveryindustrystillautomaticallylookatthehusbandwhena decision needs to be made. Whatever you do, don’t get involved in thenegotiation.Justkeeptellingthemthatit’smycar,mydecision.”“Gotit.Arewefinancingitinyournamethistime?”“Hellno!Yourcreditisbetter,sowe’llgetabetterrate.Butwewon’tspring

thaton themuntil theveryend.They’lluseanyexcuse to increase thefinancerate.”“Whatareallthesepapersyoubrought?”heaskedher.Pointingtoeachone,shetoldhim,“That’sthenewspaperadvertisementthey

nowhaveintheWorcesterTelegram.It’sforacheapermodel,butitgivesmeapricepointtoshootfor.Someofthesecaradswillshowalowpriceonamodelthattheydon’tevenhaveinstock.”

She then pointed to another sheet of paper. “That there is the Kelley BlueBook‘fairmarketprice’fortheyear,model,andoptionsIwant.Ittellsmetheinvoicepricethatthedealershippaidforthecar.Withincentives,thedealershipcan often go under that price. It tellsmewhat the fairmarket range iswithinaboutathousanddollars.ItalsotellsmetheMSRP,whichisthetypicalstickerpricefornewcars,ortheCPO,whichisthetypicalstickerpriceforusedcars.”“Howmuchdoyouwanttopay?”“Asclosetoinvoice—orbetter,asmuchundertheinvoiceprice—asIcanget

them.Idon’tmindthedealershipmakingafewhundreddollarsovertheinvoiceprice,unlessthemanufacturerhasgiventhedealershipincentivesthismonth.Ifthoseexist,wecangetunder theinvoicepricewhile thedealershipstillmakesmoney.”“Wait!Areyoutalkingaboutthestickerprice?”“No,thestickerpriceiswhat’sonthewindow.Paynoattentiontothat.The

invoicepriceiswhatthedealershippaidforthevehicle,whichIknowfromtheKellyBlueBook.Ionlytalkinvoiceprice,howmuchIwillpayunderoroverwhatthedealershippaid.”“Howdoyouknowifincentivesexist?”“Youcansometimes tellby thenewspaperad.Oryoucan tellby theKelly

BlueBook‘fairmarketrange.’Ifthe‘fairmarketrange’isbelowwhattheysaytheinvoicepriceis,that’sanindicationthatthereareincentives.Otherwise,youhope thesalesmanwill tellyou—but thatoften requiresa lotofnegotiationorluck.”“Andwhataboutafinancerate?”“Thenewspapershowsmethatthedealershipcangoaslowastwopointnine

percentonthevehicleIwant.ButI’llprobablyhavetoaskforlessinordertogetit.Thesecretistoalwaysaskformuchlessthanyou’rewillingtospendinorder to eventually land where you want because they are going to do theopposite.Thisistrueforboththepriceandthefinancerate.”Robbywasproudofhiswife.Herfatherhadtaughtherwell.Hehadbeenthe

salesmanagerforadealershipthelastseveralyearsofhislife,soheknewallthetricks of the trade.He hadwanted his only child to know them, too.Her dadalways told her, “If you knowhow to negotiate, it’s a skill youwill use yourentirelife.”Theypulled into theToyotadealership, shutoff thewagon,and itbackfired

withabang.Thecouplebrokeoutlaughing.PerMary’sinstructions,theywaitedafewminutessothatanyonewhoheardthebackfirewouldn’tseethemgetoutofthecar.“Wedon’twantthemtothinkwe’redesperatetobuy,”MarytoldRobby.

When it seemed like nobody was looking, they got out and looked at theRAV4modelSUVMaryhaddecidedtobuy.Mary found themodel and color she liked, and a car salesman came up to

them.“Youneedanyhelp?”heasked.“No,we’realreadyworkingwithanothersalesperson,”saidMary.“Whichone?CanIgethimorherforyou?”“Theyalreadyknowwe’reouthere.”Marydidn’tlikelying,butitwaspartofthecar-buyinggame.Herdaddyhad

taughthertothinkofitlikeagame,notalie,anddefinitelynotafight.“It’sagameofskills,”hetoldher,“justlikechessorpoker.Keepyouremotionsoutofit.Emotionshavenoplaceinnegotiations.Ifyouthinkofitasagame,youcankeepitfunandfocusonwinning.”Now that Mary had found the car she was interested in buying, she was

searching for the right salesperson.Robby followed her as shewalked aroundthedealership.“Whatareyoulookingfor?”heasked.“I’mjustlookingatthesalespeople.I’musingmyintuitiontochoosetheright

one.”“Didyourfatherteachyouthat?”“No,mydaddydidn’tknowaboutintuition.IlearnedthatfromCarolineand

yourfather.”“Myfather?When?”“Youknowthatwehavelunchnowandthen.”“Yeah,butIdidn’tknowyoutalkedaboutstufflikeintuitionwithhim.”“We talk about all sorts of things.” She paused. “Okay, he’s the one.” She

pointed toanice-lookingmansittingathis salesdesk.Hewasabout six-foot-twowithblondhaircutveryshort.Helookedlikehemighthaveplayedfootballorwrestledinschool.“Whyhim?”Robbyasked.“He’sgotkindeyes. I sawhimtalkingwith thatwomanover there.Hewas

gentle, and he held the door open for her.Butmore importantly,my intuitiontellsmehe’stheone.”“Whenyousayintuition,whatdoesthatmeanexactly?”“Tome it means a gut feeling.When I look at that salesman, I feel good.

When that other salesman approached us outside, I felt the opposite—uneasy,almostnervous.”Mary approached the salesmanwhose namewasChris. She told him she’d

liketotakeacarforatestdrive,andshegavehimtheinventorynumberthatshehad taken from a sticker on the vehicle’s windshield. He looked it up on hiscomputerandlefttogetthekeysandadealer’splate.

Afterthetestdrive,MarysatdownwithChrisathisdesk.Robbysatnexttoher.ChrislookedatRobby.“Howmuchamonthdoyouwanttospend?”“AskMary.Thisishercar,”Robbytoldhim.“Sorry.Mary,howmuchamonthdoyouwanttospend?”“I’m going to save you some time, Chris. I only want to talk invoice, not

monthlypayments.Truthfully,Idon’twanttopayanythingmonthly.”Robbychuckled.Healwayslikedhiswife’shumor.“Do you have a car you’re trading in?” askedChris.Hemade sure to look

rightatMary,onlyglancingatRobbyeverynowandthen.“No.”Robbyknewwhatshewasdoing.Shehadtoldhimearlierthatinordertotalk

car price only and not get confused by the different numbers, she wouldnegotiateapriceonthecarshewasbuyingbeforementioningshehadacartotrade.MarypulledouttheKelleyBlueBooksheetshehadprintedfromtheinternet.

“Thisisyourinvoiceprice,”shetoldChris.“Iseethatthe‘fairmarketprice’islowerthantheinvoiceprice,sothattellsmetherearemanufacturerincentives.Whatincentivesdoesthemanufacturergivethedealershiponthismodel?”“Mygoodness,youcameprepared.I’llhavetocheckwiththesalesmanager,”

saidChris,andhewalkedaway.OnceChriswasgone,MarytoldRobby,“WhenIgetuptowalkout,follow

mewithoutanyquestions,okay?”“Surething,honey.You’rethemaster.”Chriscameback.“Therearen’tanyincentivesonthatmodel.I’msorry.It’sa

popularcar,sowedon’tseeincentivesveryoftenonthatmodel.”Mary satup straight inher chair.Shewasn’t surewhetherornot tobelieve

Chris,butshewassuspicious.“Chris,basedonanadvertisementyouhaveinthenewspaperand theKelleyBlueBook, theremustbe some incentives from themanufacturer.ButallthatmattersiswhatIpayforthevehicle,soI’lloverlookthatfornow.What’sthepercentagerateforfinancing?”sheasked.“Icangetyousevenpointninepercent.”Chrispointedtoasignonthewall

thatread:Today’sfinancerate7.9percent.MarygaveChrisan irritated look.“Idon’thavea lotof time,Chris. Idon’t

blameyou,however,fordoingwhatyouhavetodo.Iknowyoursalesmanagerhascertainexpectationsofyou.Buthowlonghaveyoubeensellingcarshere?”“Twenty-fiveyears.”“Good.Thatwill saveusboth time.Let’sdo thisa littledifferently. I’ll tell

you how to getme into that car today. Sellme the car I just drove for threehundredunderinvoiceatonepointninepercentfinancingandI’llbuyitnow.If

not, give me your best deal and I’ll go see what the Toyota dealership inFramingham will offer me. I don’t mind driving forty-five minutes to savemoney.”Chrislookedather, thenhelookedatRobby.Robbyshruggedhisshoulders

and smiled. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said. He went back into the salesmanager’soffice.“Getreadytostartwalkingout,”shetoldRobby.Henodded.Chriscameback.“Okay,Ithinkwehaveaprettygooddealforyou.Fifteen

hundred dollars over invoice, but that doesn’t include the six-hundred-dollardestinationfeethatyouhavetopaynomatterwhat.Icangoaslowasfourpointninepercentonfinancing.”Marygatheredherpapersandpurseandstoodup.Robbyfollowedsuit.She

putherhandouttoshakeChris’sandsaid,“Thankyouforyourtime,Chris.Itwas really nice tomeet you.”AfterChris shook her hand, she headed for thedoor.Chrislookedsurprisedthatshewasleavingandchasedafterher.“Wait!Let

me talk to the financeguy.Maybehecanfigureoutaway togetyoua lowerpercentagerate.Oneofthefinanceguyshereismyfriend.”“Sure,”saidMary,“butwe’restillwayoffonthepriceofthevehicle.Idon’t

seehowthat’sgoingtohelp.”Shestoodbesidethedoorwithherhandonitlikeshewasreadytopushitopen.“Chris,ItoldyouIdon’thavealotoftime.Ifyoucangetmethreehundredunderinvoiceandonepointninepercentfinancing,I’llsignthepapersrightnow.Butyou’resofaroffthatIdon’tseehowyou’regoingtodoit.”“Pleasesitbackdownandgivemeonemorechance.IthinkIcandobetter,”

Chrisbegged.Maryopenedthedoor.Shespokeinakindbutconfidentvoice.“We’regoing

towaitoutside,Chris.Iwanttobeinthesun.We’llwaitouthereforyou,butyouknowwhatit’sgoingtotaketosellmeacartoday.”Chris left forabout fiveminutesandcamebackoutside towhere theywere

standing.HeshowedMarythepaperwherehehadwrittenhisfigures.“Italkedwithmyfriendinthefinancedepartment,andhetoldmethattwopointnineisthelowesthecangoonthatmodel.”Mary crossed her arms in front of her like she wasn’t impressed, but was

waitingforhisnewestvehicleprice.“AndwelookedupthatRAV4thatyoudroveandnoticedithasfivehundred

milesonitalready,whichisgettingkindofhighforanewcar.Ihadtofightforit,but I cangive it toyou forahundreddollarsunder invoice.That’sa really

gooddeal,Mary.Thesalesmanager’sniecedidn’tevengetthatgoodadeallastweek.”“Makeittwohundredunderinvoice,andyouhaveadeal.”Chrislookedbacktowardthesalesmanager’sofficeandhisfaceturnedred.

“Ican’tevengobackinthere,Mary.That’sreallythebestIcando.”“Well, that’swhat Iwaswaiting for.Youhave adeal,Chris.Butwhilewe

werewaiting,wedecidedthatwedon’treallyfeellikehavingtosellourcar.I’dliketoknow,whatcanyougiveusforatradein?”Marywasn’texpectinganyprofitfromherwagon.Shewashappyjusttoget

ridofitwithouthavingtopayanything,especiallysincehermechanichadtoldher therepairsneededwouldcostmorethanthecar.Shewashonestabout theneeded repairs, and thedealershipagreed to take thecareven though itwouldlikelygototheauctionorjunkyard.MarydrovehomeinhernewRAV4whileRobbysatinthepassenger’sseat

praisingheronhowamazingshewasatnegotiatingwith thesalesman.“I justhaveonequestion,Mary.”“What’sthat,honey?”“Idon’tunderstandhowourintentionexercisesplayintoallthis.”“Oh,Isettheintentionongettingagreatdeal.Ievenwroteitdownandread

it out loud several times. As I read it, I visualized it going smoothly andsuccessfullyinmymind.”“Butitwasstillalotofwork.”“That’sjusthowthecarbusinessworks,sweetie.Thetrickistointegrateour

intentionpracticeswiththewaytherealworldworks.Likeyourfathertoldme,the work we’re doing is magical, not magic. To be honest, I got the deal IwantedalotfasterthanIexpected.IfIhadn’tlearnedwhatIdidaboutintentionfromCarolineandyourfather,we’dprobablystillbenegotiating.”Robby asked, “Butwith the right intention and belief, could someonewalk

intothedealershipandgetagreatdealwithoutgoodnegotiationskills?”“Anything is possible. We have to remember that a great deal is very

subjective, Robby. Some people never negotiate. They walk in and pay thesticker price. Others hope to get a few hundred dollars off the sticker price.Regardless,mostpeoplegohomehappy.”“Butyougotnearlyfivethousanddollarsoffthestickerprice!”hesaidloudly.“Peopledon’tknowwhattheydon’tknow,Robby.Aslongastheygohome

happy,that’swhatmatters.”“Well, I’m feeling really grateful for your father right now and all that he

taughtyou.I’malsoreallygladthatyoulearneditsowellandhavethenervetoapplywhatyoulearned.”

“Me,too,Robby.Me,too.”“Youknow,Mary, if youwant to drivemypickup truck for awhile, I can

helpbreakthisvehicleinforyou.”“Sure,” she said with a grin. “And if you want to break in those sneakers

you’rewearing,Icandropyouoffandyoucanwalkhomefromhere.”Robbysat in thepassenger’s seatwithabig smirkonhis face, appreciating

themightyfeminineinallherstrengthandbeauty.

ROBBYWASONthefrontstepsoftheircondowithhisheadhunglow.Thisisit,hethoughttohimself.It’sover.Everythingthemagicmalagavemeisnowgoingtounravel.Mymojoisgone.Thedreamisover.Myluckhasturned.Robbyclosedhiseyesas ifhewaswaitingforameteortodroponhim.He

didn’tevenlookupwhenMarydroveintothedriveway.ShegotoutofhernewSUVandwalkeduptohimslowly.Sheleanedagainstthestairwayrailing.“Somethingwrong,honey?”“I’mtryingnottopanic,”hetoldher.“I’mdoingmybesttoavoidgoinginto

fearmode,butIdon’tthinkI’mdoingtoowell.”Maryclimbedthestepsandsatnexttohim.“You’regoingtohavetosayitoutloudsometime.Whathappened?”“Ilostmymala.”Marywas relieved that itwasn’t a terrible tragedy like someone’s death or

seriousinjury.“Youmightstillfindit.Whenwasthelasttimeyouhadit?”“That’s the problem. I used it thismorningwhen Iwent for awalk, then I

thoughtIplaceditinmybackpocket.ThehitchisthatIwalkedliketwomilesaroundthereservoir.”“Didyougoanywhereelsetoday?”Robbynoddedhisheadwhilestillstaringathisfeet.“Itwasthebusiestdayof

mylife.Aftermywalk,Iwenttothebank,Matt’sstore,theofficesupplystore,

thepharmacy,andStarbucks.”There was a minute of silence. Mary thought about what to do. She had

alwaysbeengoodatthinkingclearlywhenotherpeoplewerepanicking.“Let’s lookup thephonenumbers toall thebusinessesyouvisitedand then

I’ll call themwhilewe retrace your steps around the reservoir.”Marywalkedinsidethecondoandjumpedontotheinternettogetthephonenumbers.Robbyfollowed,openedthefridge,andpulledoutacontainerofcottagecheese.“Whatareyoudoing?”sheasked.“I’mstarving.”Shelaughedandshookherheadbackandforth.“Youalwayseatwhenyou’re

nervous.”AfterMaryfinishedwritingdownthephonenumbers, theyleft thecondoin

searchofthemalabeads.Mary’soptimismhadRobbyfeelingslightlyhopeful.“There’sanawful lotofstuffon the road thatgotcrushedbycars,”noticed

Robby.“There’snotalotoftraffictoday.Trytoholdoffonthe‘We’llnevermakeit’

attitude.”Maryhadhercellphonetoherear.“Holdon,it’sringing…”Shegotthroughtothebankandwaitedonholdwhiletheylookedaroundandcheckedthelostandfound.Theydidn’thaveit.“That’sokay,”sheassuredherhusband.“Onedown,fourtogo.”Theycontinuedwalkingdowntheroad,lookingcarefullyinthegrassforthe

malabeads.“Iwentdownherenext,”saidRobbyashedetouredontoacart road.Mary

followed.“Whichsidedidyouwalkon?”sheasked.“Downthemiddle,Iguess,”hesaid,soundingfrustrated.Hiseffortstoremain

hopefulwerefailing.“Howaboutweeachtakeaside,”shesuggested.“I’llstaytowardtheleft,you

theright.”MarycalledMattathisstoreandtoldhimwhathappened.“Ohboy,how’sPessimisticPetetakingit?”“Notsogood.”“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen it. I’ll look around and call you if themala

showsup.However,Ijustsweptthefloorsandthey’renotonthecounter,soIdon’tthinkthey’rehere.”MarygaveRobbythenews.Asmuchasshedidn’tlikeseeinghimfearful,she

madeanefforttoremaindetachedfromhismood.Sheknewthatlosinghismalawasn’ttheworstthingintheworld.Instead,shefocusedonthebeautyofnaturewhileshewalkeddownthecartroad.Sheadmiredthetrees,thewildflowers,and

thewater.Shefeltsoconnectedtothelandscapeandwildlifethatshewonderedwhyshedidn’ttakethiswalkherselfmoreoften.Robby’snervouspaceledhimtowalkfaraheadofhiswife.Shecalledthenextplaceonherlist.“I’msorry,ma’am.There’snothinglike

thatinthelostandfound,”saidthemanagerattheofficesupplystore.Marywasgladshedidn’thavetodeliverthenewstoRobby.Hewastoofarinfrontofher.Shewasabout tomake thenextphonecallwhen she lookedup to seeRobbysittingonafallentree.Hewasclearlyupsetbysomething.Shecaughtuptohimandasked,“Whydidyoustopsearching?”“ThisiswhereIturnedaround.Iwalkedbackthesamewaywecame.”“Oh,Isee.Well,Istillhavetwomoreplacestocall.Buttellme,honey,why

isthisupsettingyousomuch?Tellmewhatyou’refeeling.”“I’mfeelingsadness,fear…doom.”“Doom?Whydoom?”“Ifeltsafewiththatmala.IfeltIcouldaccomplishanythingwithit.Itwasmy

goodluckcharm.WhatamIsupposedtodonow?I’mabouttogotoNewYorkwithMatt,andIwanteditwithme.Shestoodinfrontofhimandliftedhischinsohe’dlookather.“Wecanget

youanewmala,Robby.Wehavealotofniceonesatthejewelrystore.Wecangotonight.”“What if I don’t have the same results with another mala? There was

somethingspecialaboutthatone,magical.Everythingwasgoingsowellforus.Whydidthishavetohappennow?”Mary knew her husband well. She knew that when he was upset about

something, he needed time to process all the fearful thoughts that wereconsuminghim.Nothingshecouldsayatthispointwouldhelpuntilheworkedit out himself. She called the pharmacy, hoping they might have some goodnewstoputanendtoallthis.“I’msorry,wehaven’t foundanythingtoday,” theyounggirlwhoanswered

thephonetoldMary.Mary shook her head so Robby knew it was a no. She immediately dialed

Starbucks.“Wehavesomething thatkindof looks like thathere,” themansaid.“It’sa

necklacewithlotsofbeads.Iguessthey’reblue.Canyoucomebytoday?”“Yes,we’llcomerightdown.”“JustaskforMichael.I’llbehereuntileighto’clocktonight.”MaryrelayedthemessagetoRobby.“I’mnotsureit’syourmala,honey.But

it’sworthgoingdown there.Hewasn’t sure itwasblue. I’d sayyourmala isclearlyblue,solet’sjustwaitandsee.”

RobbyandMaryjumpedintheRAV4,andshedrovethemtoStarbucks.Theyarrived in fifteenminutes.They ran inandasked forMichael.Hepulledoutamala,butthebeadsweren’tlapis; theywerehematite.Robby’slastbitofhopefizzled.Marydidn’ttrytoencouragehimonthedrivebacktothecondo.Sheknewit

wouldbefruitless.Whentheyarrivedhome,hejumpedoutoftheSUVbeforeshehadachancetoshutoff theengine.“I’mgoingtotakeanap,”hetoldherbeforeheslammedtheSUVdoor.Robby went inside, andMary called Caroline while sitting in the car. She

explainedthesituation.“I can understand. It’s because it was his first mala,” Caroline told Mary.

“He’scomealongwaysincefindingit.He’sprobablyscaredaboutthefuture,andIthinkhe’sprobablygrievingthelossaswell.”“SohowdoIhelphim?You’retheteacher.Whatadvicewouldyougiveone

ofyourstudents?”Carolinesighedandthoughtaboutit.“It’sbelievedthatwhenyourmalabeads

break,it’stimeforanewone.Theenergyofthebeadsisnolongercompatiblewith the energy of the owner. It’s probably the samewhen you lose it.Asidefromthat,IthinkheshouldtalktoMatt.HespeaksRobby’slanguage.I’llsendhimovertomorrowmorning.”MarywasgladRobbyhadgoneforanap.Shedecidedtotakeanotherwalk

around the reservoir. She probably wouldn’t find the missing mala, but thenaturewalkwouldhelpraiseherenergynowthatRobby’smoodhadbummedheroutalittle.

FATHERBURKEparked in frontof theshelter,hishands tremblingon thesteeringwheel.He squeezedhishands together,hoping to stop them. Itdidn’thelp,soheplacedtheminhispockets.He entered the shelter and walked into the dining hall, where Dave had

arranged for himandGeorge tomeet.Thedininghallwas empty, beingmid-morning,exceptforacoupleofpeoplewhowerecleaning.Therewereseveralroundtables,eachwithsixchairs.Burkehadwonderedhowhewouldrecognizethefatherhe’dneverseen,yet

heknewhimthesecondhelaideyesonhim.Georgewasseatedaloneatoneofthe tables;nevertheless,hecouldhavepickedhimoutofabusycrowd.Itwaslikelookingathimselfintwentyyears.Every step he took toward theman, his heart beat faster.He thought about

turningaroundandleaving,butheknewhe’dalwaysregretit.Afterafewmoresteps,herealizeditwastoolatetoturnback.“George?”heaskedashewalkeduptotheman.Henoticedhisfather’shandswereshaking,too.Georgestoodupandheldhishandout.Burkestaredatitforafewseconds,

thinking to himself,This is really happening. After sixty-six years, I’m finallymeetingmy father.HeshookGeorge’shand.Therewasanawkwardquietnessthat seemed to last forever. After a few moments, Father Burke broke thesilence.“Well,IguessIwastheonewhoaskedtomeetyou,soImightaswellbegin.Youknow,IknewforyearswhatIwouldsaytoyouifIeversawyou,

butsuddenlyitallfeelswrong.Youlook,well…old.”Thetwomenlaughedloudly.“My goodness, you haven’t changed a bit, Jonathan,” his father said,

chuckling.His comment confused theminister. “What do youmean?Howwould you

knowanythingaboutme?”“Son—” Suddenly George got scared. “I’m sorry. I just call young people

that.”“No,it’sfine.Youmaycallmeson.”Burke’seyeswelledupwithtearsasthe

simplemeaningofwhathewassayingsunkin.“Oh,thankyou.”George’seyesalsogotwatery.“ThetruthisthatIwatched

yougrowup,althoughalwaysfromadistance.Yourgrandparents,Imean,yourparents,wouldletmeknowifyouwereevergoingtobeanywherethatIcouldseeyou.IwatchedyouattheparkandtheBoysClubwhenyouwerelittle.Isawyouplaybaseballfromthetimeyouweresevenrightupthroughhighschool,atleastwheneveryouplayedsomewhereIcouldreachbywalking.”Hechuckled.“Imight have lived to this old age because you hadmewalking all over thecity.”Burketriedtoswallowhistears,buttheyjustkeptcoming.Hewasconfused.“Pleasesitdown,Jonathan,”Georgerequested.Burkesatdownonthechairnexttothestrangerwhowashisfather.“Ifyou

attendedthoseevents,whydidn’tyoueverletmeknow?Iwouldhavelikedtoknow.Iwasundertheimpressionyoudidn’tcare,thatyoudidn’tloveme.”George lookeddownat theground,unable to lookhis son in theeyes. “All

right,sincewe’redoingthis,Iassumeyouwantthetruth,right?”“Thetruthwouldbenice,yeah,”saidtheminister.George talkedslowly.“Okay, the truth.The truth is that Iwassleeping ina

cardboardbox.Ihadnomoney.StrangerstoldmeIsmelled.”Georgechokedupbut quickly contained his emotions. He continued. “I was drunk most of thetime,andIdidn’twanttoembarrassyou.Ididn’twantyoutoknowwhoyourdad reallywas. I preferred you to think I was dead than to know the truth. Ididn’twantyougrowingupthinkingyoumightbeanythinglikeme.”FatherBurke looked around the room.His breathingwas heavy.Hewasn’t

sureifhewantedtoyellathisfatherorhughim.“Iwasweak,”continuedGeorge.“I’vebeenweakmostofmylife.Myfather

eventoldmeIwasweakwhenIwasaboy.Yourmotherwastheopposite.Shewasbraveandbright-eyed.Shewassmart.Sheknewhowtokeepmesober.ButIwascodependent.Whenshedied,Ididn’tknowhowtodealwithmygrief.Ididn’tknowhow todealwith life.And Icertainlydidn’tknowhow to raisea

littleboy.”Georgehad tocatchhisbreathbeforehepickedupagain. “Shewasalways

the breadwinner. I was a phony.We both pretended I was more than I was.Whenshediedgivingbirth toyou, Ibroughtyou toherparents.Thatwas thesmartestthingIeverdidasidefrommarryingyourmother.Iknewitwasright.Theyknewit.Everybodywhoknewmeknewit.”They sat for amomentwithout talking.WhenBurke’s anxiety subsided, he

movedhischairclosertohisfathertosaywhatheneededtosay.“Ialways thoughtyougavemeawaybecauseshediedgivingbirth tome. I

thought you blamedme. I was sure you didn’t loveme, even thoughMom’sparents said otherwise. I figured they had to say that. I couldn’t invent onelogicalreasonwhyanyfatherwoulddowhatyoudid.AsIgotolder,peopletoldmeyouwerehomeless.Theytoldmeyoudrank.Ididn’tcare.AllIeverwantedfromyouwaslove.”Hegatheredhimselfbeforesayingmore.“Iwassoangrywithyou…andI

hated theway thatangermademefeel. Ihatedmyself forhatingyou.WhenIgot older, maybe twenty years ago, I assumed you were dead. I was drivingdownInterstate295andknewIhad toreleasemyanger. Ihad toforgiveyou.Notforyouasmuchasformyself.Ineededtoreleasethatburdenofhatingyou.Ididnotknowwhereyouwereburied,soIjustdrovetothenearestcemeteryIcouldfind. Ipulled inandgotoutofmycar infrontofa largestatueofSaintFrancisofAssisi.Ifelltomyknees,andItalkedtothestatuelikeIwastalkingtoyou.Rightthere,asIkneeledontheground,Iforgaveyou.Itrulyforgaveyouinmyheart.Allmyoldhatredandangerwasreleasedinthatmoment.Andnowhereyouareinfrontofme,andIstillfeelnoangeratyou.I’msixty-sixyearsold,andIstillonlyneedyoutoloveme.”FatherBurkeburstoutsobbing.Thereunitedfatherandsonheldoneanother

astheyeachtrembledaftertheircatharticconfessions.Fornearlythirtyminutes,theyheldoneanother for the first timesinceJonathanwasbornmore thansixdecadesearlier.Whentheywerebothexhaustedfromall theemotion,Georgeheldhisson’s

handsandsaid,“IknowIhaveastrangewayofshowingit,butIneverblamedyou forwhat happened to yourmom. I have always loved you. That’swhy IwatchedyougrowupeveryopportunityIcould.”George and Jonathan spent a couple of hours together. They caught up on

eachother’s lives,asbest theycould,andtheyarrangedtoseeoneanotherthefollowing week so the minister could show his father the chapel where heworked.Theydeparted thatdayascompletelydifferentmen than the twowhohadenteredtheshelterjustafewhoursearlier.

WhenFatherBurkegotbackintohiscar,hewasnumbfromthereleaseandpurging thathad justoccurred. It tookhimtenminutesbeforehewasready toturntheignitionkey.Ashedroveaway,hethoughttohimself,Davewasright.ThestoriesIinventedasaboywereallwrong.Thankyou,GodandJesus,forgivingmetheopportunitytolearnthetruthbeforeoneofusdied.Burkedrovebyanicecreamshopandpulledovertogethimselfacone.He

felt like a boy again, so it seemed appropriate.He licked his ice cream cone,gratefulforwhathadjustoccurredandinaweatthecomplexitiesoflifeaboutwhichhewasstilllearning.A littleboyappeared in frontof theminister,pointingathim.FatherBurke

didn’tunderstandwhathewanted,sotheboywalkedcloser,nowpointingathischest.Burke lookeddown to see that hehaddripped ice creamontohis shirt.Theboythenheldhisownicecreamconeabovehisshirtandletitdripalloverit.Helookedupattheministerwithamischievousgrin.Burkethenmimickedtheboy,coveringhisownshirtwithmoredripsoficecream.Theboyscreamedin enthusiasm and ran back toward his parents.Theminister then finished hiscone,gotbackinhiscar,anddrovehomewithashirtcoveredinicecreamandasecondchanceathavingtheboyhoodhehadalwayswanted.

MATTWALKEDINTORobbyandMary’shomeabouteight thirty in themorning.Marywasstandingatthekitchenislandplacingflowersthatshe’dcutfrom the garden in a vase. Robby was on the living room sofa watching themorningnewsontelevision.Mattwalkedover to theTVandshut itoff, thenstood in frontof it,giving

Robbya lookofpity.“Hey, it’s theIncredibleSulk.Whatareyoudoing?Areyounuts?”Mattsaidloudlywithoutsayinghello.“Firstyouloseyourmala,andthen you sit aroundwatching the news?Do you knowwhat the news does toyou?”Robby sat upright, annoyed by the interruption. “What’s wrong with the

news?”heasked.“What’swrongwith the news?Let’s see.First, there’s a fire that destroyed

some family’s home and all their belongings. Oh, and then there’s that oldercouplewhowerefounddeadintheirhome.Foulplayissuspected.Wait,there’smore.A tornadowipedoutanentirecommunity in theMidwest.Eightpeoplewerekilled,includingtwochildren.Andincaseyouweren’tfeelingscaredyet,anescapedconvictisonthelooseandisbelievedtohavebeenspottedinyourarea.Bytheway,he’sarmedanddangerous.”Marystoppedwhatshewasdoing towatch thedisplayMattwasputtingon

forherhusband’sbenefit.SheknewMattwaspurposelybeingpatronizingwithRobbybecausethatwastheonlythingheeverrespondedtowhenhewasinthis

stateofmind.SheknewthatMatt’sintentionswereheartfelt,soshesatdownonastooltowatch,onehandoverhermouthtoconcealheramusementwithitall.“Anddon’tchangethechannelbecauseafterthecommercialbreakwe’lltell

youwhyhalfthefoodinyourrefrigeratorisdangerousandmightkillyouandwhykillerbeesandplague-infestedmosquitoscouldobliterateyouoryourlovedonesatanymoment.”RobbylaughedeventhoughheknewMattwasmakingapointathisexpense.“Howdoyou feel after you’vewatched the news,Robby?On a scale from

one,beingscared,toten,beinghappy,doesthenewsusuallyleaveyoufeelinghappyaboutlifeorSCAREDOUTOFYOURFRIGGINGMIND?”“You’reright.IguessI’musuallyfeelingalotmorefearfulafterIshutoffthe

news.”“Mostpeopledo.Anddoyouknowwhatfeardoestoyourenergy?Itlowers

it. It lowers your energy to the pointwhere it weakens your immune system.Studieshaveprovenit.Thatmeansfearmakesyoumoresusceptibletogettingsick.AndIthinkyouknow,butI’llstillask,whathappenstoourthoughtswhenourenergyislow?”“I’llguesswetendtothinknegatively?”“That’s right. Caroline calls it stinking thinking. And what does stinking

thinkingattracttoyou?”“Badluck,Iimagine,”saidRobby.“Yougotit,myfriend.Soyouloseyourmalaandyourfirstinstinctistoturn

onthenews?”“No.Myfirstinstinctwastotakeanap,”Robbyadmitted.Matt held back his laughter.Hewalked over to the sofa and sat beside his

friend.“I’mserious,man,”hesaid.“Yourpowerofmanifestationisdependentuponwhatyouputintoyourmind.Letmerephrasethat.Yourday,yourweek,andyouryeararedirectreflectionsofwhatyoupourintoyourmind.“Ifyouwantacrappylife,watch,listen,orevenreadthenewsalldaylong.It

willfillyouwithsomuchanxietythatyou’llbeworriedaboutallsortsofthingsthatwillprobablyneverhappen.“It’s thesameconceptas talking incessantlyaboutall thebad thingspeople

havedonetoyouinyourlife.Talkaboutmeanthingspeoplehavesaidtoyou.Talk about the wrongs that were never righted. Talk about all the bad luckyou’ve hadwith your car or house or health. Talk about itwith your friends.Talkaboutitwithyourfamily.Talkaboutitwiththegirlatthecheckoutlineatthegrocerystore.Andthentalkaboutitsomemorewithanyoneelsewhowilllisten.”Matt looked at Mary sitting on a stool in the kitchen. “Can you think of

anyonewhodoesthat,Mary?”“Ahh,StanBaronecomestomind.”“Bingo!”MattslappedRobbyonthelegandsmiled.“Look,man,evenwhen

you kid around saying crap like ‘Withmy luck, that tornadowill come righttowardme’or‘Thewaymyhealthisheaded,I’llbedeadbyChristmas,’you’rereinforcinganaffirmationandsendingtheUniverseamessagethatthisiswhatyouwantinyourlife—orwantmoreofinyourlife.“Regardless ofwhat you’re asking theUniverse to send youwhen you talk

likethat,whatyou’realsodoingisdepressingyourmood,loweringyourmentalandphysicalenergy,andsuppressingyourimmunesystem’sabilitytokeepyouhealthy.Andthatwillleadyoutomakepoordecisions,saythingsthatwillonlyleadtotrouble,andsnowballyourdayintochaos,drama,andhell.“Isthatwhatyouwantinyourlife,Noodlenoggin?”“Definitelynot,”saidRobby.“ButhowdoIstayinformedifIdon’twatchit

onTV,listentoitontheradio,orreaditinanewspaper?”Mattleanedoverandgrabbedanewspaperoffthecoffeetable.Helookedat

the headlines and chuckled. “It’s kind of funnywhen I think back to when Istoppedpayingattentiontothenews.Itfeelslikegivingupcoffeeorchocolate,right?Anythingthathasbeeninourlivesforyearsseemsnecessary.Thetruth,however, is thatyoucangetalong in life just finewithout thenews. Ihaven’tseen,heard,orreadthenewsinyears.Haveyouevennoticed?”Robbywassurprised.“No,Ididn’tknowthat.Youalwaysseemtobeaware

ofcurrentevents.Howdoyoufindout ifsomethingreallybadhappens, likeaterroristattack?”“NaturallyI’mgoingtohearaboutitfromotherpeople.Youcan’tavoidit—

norwould Iwant to. I don’twant to be isolated fromwhat’s going on in theworld.That’snotthepoint.Thepointisnottofillmymindwithnegativity,sadnews,andfearfulmessagesthataren’tnecessary.“Robby,Ican’tchangewhathappenedtotheguywhogotkilledbyhisdrug

dealer, thehousesthatweredestroyedinanaturaldisaster,orwhateverfearfuleventshappenedonWallStreetonanygivenday.ButIcanpositivelyaffecttheworldbykeepingmyenergyupandcreatingpositivechangebecauseofit.”Mattwalkedover to thekitchen sink.Hegrabbedadishcloth and soaked it

withwater.Thenhefilledupabowlwithwaterandbrought itover toRobby.“Here,hold thebowl,man.”Robbyheld thebowlofwater,andMattheld thedishclothover it.He slowly squeezed it so a dropofwater fell into the bowl.“What’sthis?”Mattasked.“Therippleeffect?”“That’sright.Ifyouunderstandtheconceptoftherippleeffectandhoweach

andeveryoneofusaffects theworldbywhatwethink,say,anddo, thenyouunderstandwhyIamsopassionateaboutthis.WhatdoyouthinkhappensifIgotoworkinabadmood?”“YoustartcallingpeoplenameslikeSkidmarkandDufus?”Mary’sgiggleechoedfromthekitchen.“No,Motormouth.What happens is that I treat my customers poorly. That

discouragesthemfrombuyinganythingandmightkeepthemfromevercomingintomystoreagain.TheymighteventellotherpeopleaboutwhatajerkIam,whichwilldiscouragethemfromcomingintomystore,too.“Worsethanhurtingmybusinesssuccess,however,ishowInegativelyaffect

ourcommunity.Whenpeoplecomeintomystore,theyarealmostalwayshappyto be there.They get excited aboutwhat I sell and about seeing a baseball orhockeysticksignedbysomeonefamous.IfI’mgrumpyandaffecttheirjoywithmypersonalmisery,theytakethatintoourcommunitywiththem.Nowtheyareinabadmood,too,becauseofme,andtheynegativelyaffecttheiremployees,coworkers, customers, or the taxicab driver. Some of those people might flyacross the world to another country, and nowmymisery has affected peopleacrosstheworld.”“Instead,”Robbychimedin,“youdotheopposite.AnytimeI’vebeeninyour

store,Iseeyouimprovingpeople’smoods.You’realwayslaughingandjokingwithcustomers.It’sinfectious.”“Thanks,Robby.Mypoint, really, is that I treatmy customers thatway on

purpose. I do it because I truly feel joy insideofme, and that’s because I amconsciousabouthowIfillmymind.”Mattscratchedhisheadinthought.“Youmentionedterroristattacks.Doyou

rememberNine-Eleven?”“Ofcourse,”saidRobby.“That happened before I learnedwhat I’m teaching you right now.Do you

knowwhat Idid thatday? I staredat the televisionmostof theday,watchinglive feeds of the horror that was taking place, including video replays of theplanescrashingintotheTwinTowers.Ididn’tjustwatchitonce.Iburnedthatintomybrainbywatchingitoverandoverforhours.Andformonthsoryearsafter that day, I—alongwith a lot otherAmericanswhodid the same thing—livedinfearofanotherterroristattackhappening.”Mattpulledsomemalabeadsfromhispocketandsatbackonthesofanextto

Robby.“Youknowhoweffectiveyourdailymalapracticehasbeeninyourlife?Well, what is the mala practice, essentially? It’s you repeating your positiveintention over and over again. Every time you repeat your mantra, you thinkaboutwhatyoudesire.

“Well,thatiswhatmillionsofpeopledowheneverthereisaschoolshooting,asniperontheloose,oramajordisasterinthecountry—excepttheirintentionsarenegative.Theywatchthevideoofadisasterontelevisionoverandover,andwhat happens then? They feel like crap for days orweeks because they haveburnedfearsofar into theirbrainsandbodies thatsomeof thosepeopleneverfeelthesamelevelofjoyagain.“How effective do you think it is, Robby, for our society to focus on the

fearfulevents thathavetakenplace to thatdegree?Howmanyof thosepeoplenowlockedinfeararemakingtheworldabetterplace?Howmanyofthemdoyou think are mentally capable of rushing to help the victims of those tragicevents? How many of them do you imagine leave their houses to positivelyupliftevenoneotherpersonafterwatchingtragiceventsonTVforhours,nevermindcreatearippleeffectoflove,joy,orkindnessintheirfamily,community,country,ortheworld?”Robby knewMattwasn’t really expecting an answer.He himself, however,

was seeing the world with a new paradigm. He would never really viewtelevisionnews thesameway,nor radio,newspapers,books,orcontenton theinternetforthatmatter.Mattstoodupandbeganpacingashetalked.“Don’tgetmewrong,youguys.

Idon’tbelieve infalselypretendingthatbad thingsdon’thappenin theworld.NordoIbelievethatweshouldforgetwhentheydo.Ithinkweshouldalwaysrememberinordertomakesurethosetragediesdon’thappenagain.“What I don’t thinkwe should do, on the other hand, is focus on them so

muchthattheynegativelyaffectourlives.Idon’tthinkweshouldfocussomuchon theeviland tragicevents in life to thepointwherewewalkaround in fearandhopelessness.“I know peoplewho no longer go out in public places likemovie theaters,

sportingarenas,andevenrestaurantsbecausetheyfearthatsomenutjobmightshowupshootingpeople.Thisistheextreme,Robby,buttherearemanystagesinbetween,andthat’swhatI’mtalkingabouthere.Fearisfearwhetheryou’reno longer eating lettuce because of a salmonella outbreak that happened tenyearsagoorfillingyourbasementwithbottledwater,sardines,andassaultriflesbecauseofanarticleaboutterrorismthatyoureadontheinternetyesterday.”Mattwalkedovertothecoffeetableandpickedupthenewspaperagain.“If

youreallyfeel thatyoucan’t livewithoutnews,at leastweanyourselfoff it. Idid that by reading only the newspaper for a while. Try reading just theheadlines.Orreadonlythesectionsofthepaperthatyoufeelnecessary,likethenationalnewsorworldnews.Obviouslythesportssectionisn’tgoingtoloweryour energy…unless your favorite team lost the prior night,” he saidwith a

smile.Mattpausedtoputthedishclothandbowlbackinthesink,soMarytookthe

opportunitytoaddsomething.“Carolinetaughtmehowtoincreasemyenergy,”she said. “She taughtme to get outside to connect with nature. She said thattrees,flowers,birds,animals,andbodiesofwaterareverygrounding.Shetoldmetowalkthroughthegrasswithbarefeet.”She lookedatRobby tobe surehewas listening. “Shealso said to listen to

upliftingmusicwhenI feelmyenergyis low.Shesuggestedmovingmybodyby taking awalk or exercising. Itmay sound cliché, but the fact is that all ofthese ideas work. So does watching inspiring movies and reading books thatmakeyoulaugh,smile,orjustfeelbetteraboutlife.”“Thatmakessense.Iknowmusicworksformeeverytime,”saidRobby,“but

sometimes it’s so hard to do something beneficial when I feel like crap. It’sfunny howmisery tends to want to remainmiserable. Like they say, ‘Miserylovescompany.’Insteadofbeingdrawntoanythingoranyonewhowillimprovemymood, I’mmore drawn to other peoplewho are unhappywhen I feel thisway.Whyisthat?”MattlookedatMary.“Youwanttotakethisone?”Marywalked into the living room from the kitchen.She placed the flowers

she’djustarrangedonthecoffeetableinfrontofRobby.“It’sallaboutenergyagain,”shesaid.“Ouremotionsareconnectedtoourthoughts.Bettersaid,ouremotionsarearesultofourthoughts.Butwetendtobeingreatercontrolofourthoughtsthanourfeelingswhenwe’refeelingemotionallyflooded.Whenwe’reinabadmood,theenergycreatedbythatmoodfillsourentirebodyandmind.Itnot only wants an energetic match—other miserable people—it also drawspeopleandeventstousthatresonatewiththesamevibrationalfrequency.Sinceyourentirebodyandmindare in thatvibrational state, it’sgoing to resist anythoughtyouhaveaboutchangingittoahigherfrequency.”“Precisely,”saidMatt.“This iswhy it’s important thatyouknowwhatyour

miserablemoodisgoingtoattract.LikeMarysaid,youwon’tjustattractothermiserable people into your life; you’ll attract miserable-frequency events andcircumstances,too.Onceyouknowthisintellectually,especiallyifyouknowitfromexperience,it’susuallyenoughtogetyoutoturnonsomeupliftingmusictohelpalteryourmood.”“With that understanding, Robby,” added Mary, “do you know why you

turnedonthenewsinthewakeoflosingyourmala?”“Yeah,basicallytoperpetuatetheanxietyIwasalreadyfeeling,right?”“Boom!Yougot it,man,” saidMatt. “I almost forgot.Youknow, there’s a

reasonyoulostyourmalainthefirstplace.Doyouknowwhy,Grasshopper?”

“SoeverythingI’vegainedcannowfallapart?”“Wow! You’re a terrible student. You just give in to the resistance, don’t

you?”“I’mkidding. It’s just thatmyentire life turnedaround for thebetterafter I

foundthatmala.I’malittleattached.Sosueme.”Matt lookedatMaryand rolledhiseyes.“The reasonyou lostyourmala is

becauseit’s timetomoveonfromit,”saidMatt.“It’s timeeithertogetanewoneortofocusonyourintentionsinanewway.”“IguessI’mjustnotthereyet,”saidRobby.MattlookedatMary.“Youshouldescapehiswallowinguntilhe’sready.Call

Carolinetodosomething.Ithinkshe’sgotthedayfree.”ShelookedatRobbywithsympathy.“Thanks,Matt,butI’mgoingtostayand

takecareof…let’ssee,howwouldyousayit,Pitypuss?”Theyalllaughed.“Suityourself,MasochisticMary.Trynottobringtheworlddownwithyou.”Matt pointed atRobby. “We’re leaving in three days. If yourmooddoesn’t

improve,I’mdrivingtoNewYorkCitybymyself.”“He’llbefine,”Maryreplied.MattgaveMaryakisson thecheek, tousledRobby’shairashewalkedby,

andheadedoutthedoorforwork.Ashewaswalkingdownthestairstowardhiscar,heheardRobbyyellfrominside,“Thanks,Matt!”

AFTERMARY VISITED her parents’ gravestone, she walked around thecemetery in order to give Robby some extra time. She liked walking aroundcemeteries. There was something peaceful about them to her. She had beenvisitingthisparticularonesinceshewasten,afterhermotherwasburiedthere.She found it interesting to read the headstones and imagine who the peoplenamedon themoncewere.Sheespecially loved theolderheadstones fromtheeighteenthcentury.Robbywashalfwayacrossthecemetery.Hekneeledbeforehisownmother’s

headstone, staringat thephotographofher thathe’dbroughtwithhim. Iwishyoucouldseemenow,Mom,hethought.I’vecomealongwaysinceyouwerehere. I’ve given up ghostwriting and hope to make a living writing my ownbooks,justlikeyouencouragedmetodoyearsago.Ittookmethislongtogetupthenerve.Robbypickedtheweedsfromaroundherheadstoneandcollectedsomeleaves

that had gathered next to it, throwing them aside. I’ve learned somuch abouthow life reallyworks,Mom. I think you’d be proud ofme. I’mmuch happiernow.Dad’sbeenabighelp.You’dbeproudofhim,too.He’sreallyturnedhislife around. He’s so healthy it’s like he’s a different person. He told me youcametoseehim.AndyouknowIdreamedofyoumyself.Idon’tknowifanyofitisreal.Ifyoucouldsendmeasign,makeitsomethingthat’sunquestionableifyoucan. I’mnot theskeptic Ioncewas,but some thingsareharder forme to

believethanothers.Acrowwascawingonatreebranchnearby.Robbylookedatit.Ifthat’syou

trying to send me a sign, it’s not enough. We have so many crows in NewEngland, how can Imake that leap?But I still like it.Don’t stop. It’s a nicecoincidence. Still, if you can do something a little more obvious, maybedownrightblatant,thatwouldbehelpful.Robby sawMary heading toward him and knew he needed towrap up his

visit.Maryhastogotoworknow,Mom.I’llseeyounextweek.WishmeluckinNewYork.Imissyousomuch.Loveyou.Robbykissedhisfingersandplacedthemontheheadstone.Hestoodupand

huggedMary,thentheywalkedarminarmtotheSUV.RobbydroppedMaryoffatworksincehispickuptruckwasgettingatune-up.

WhenshearrivedforhershiftatJankowitzJewelers,Evawasallsmiles.“Whyareyousmilingsomuch?”Maryasked.“Noreason.Justhappy.”SomecustomerswalkedthroughthedoorandEvawalkedovertohelpthem

asshetoldMary,“Mr.Jankowitzwantstoseeyoudownstairs.”Mary snickered atEva’sbizarrebehavior andwentdown into thebasement

whereMr.Jankowitzworked.Asshegottothebottomofthestairway,hewasinthemiddleofdoingsomethingtoagoldringwithatorch-likeapparatus.Hehadhis peculiar-looking goggles on thatMary thoughtmade him look like amadscientist. He didn’t seem to notice she was there. She considered going backupstairs,butheshutdownthetorchandtookoffthegogglesbeforeshedid.“Thereyouare,Mary.Ihavesomenewsforyou,”hesaid.Heswungaround

onhisstoolandpattedthestoolnexttohim.Shesatdownandwiggledbackandforthontherevolvingstool.“I was at a gemstone show in Boston last weekend and happened to show

some other jewelry store owners a few of your drawings. Theywere all veryimpressed.”Mr.Jankowitzgrabbedoneherdrawingsthathehadbeenusingtocreate a ring. Mary anxiously waited to see where he was going with this.“Anyway, Mary, after showing your drawings to people, seven jewelry storeowners between here andBoston are now interested in hiring you to come totheirstoreonedayeverymonthorso.”Mary’sjawfellopen,whichwastheresponseMr.Jankowitzwasexpecting.“Itoldthemyouchargeseventy-fivedollarsperdrawingandthatthey’dneed

atleastfourcustomersinorderforyoutomakethecommute.Ialsotoldthemyou charge thirty-five cents per mile. So you already have eight clients,includingme.That’stwoaweekrightnow,andI’msurethewordwillquicklyspread.”

Marydidthemathinherhead.Fourcustomersatseventy-fivedollarsisthreehundred dollars, times two stores a week … “That’s six-hundred dollars aweek!”sheblurtedout.Mr.Jankowitzsnortedinamusement.“Yes.Areyouinterested?”Insteadofanswering, she leanedoverandgaveMr. Jankowitzakisson the

cheek.Heblushed,andshewasquitesureshesawasmileintheresomewhere.“I’lltakethatasayes.Justonething,Mary.Istillwantyoutoworkhere.SoI

hopeyou’llconsiderstaying,eventhoughyou’lllikelyneedtocutdownonyourhours.Butifyou’regoingtoquit,pleasegivemeenoughnoticetofindsomeonenewtoreplaceyou,okay?”“I’llworkmyschedulearoundthedrawings,sir.Iloveworkinghere.Thank

you.”Shebegan towalkawaybut then stoppedandasked, “Mr. Jankowitz?Why

areyoubeingsogenerous?Imean…Iknowyou’reagenerousman,andI’mgrateful…butwhyhelpmewithsomethingthatmightleadmetostopworkingheresomeday?”Mr.JankowitzlookedatMaryoverhiseyeglassesthatwerehalfwaydownhis

nose.“Iknewyouwerespecialthedayyoucameinheretosellyourmother’sring. I’d nevermet anyonewho negotiated aswell. Itmademe realize that Ineededsomeoneinthestorewhohadthoseskills.Laterthatdayafteryouleft,ItoldEva,‘Ifyoueverseethatyoungwomanagain,offerherajob.’”“Ithoughtyouhiredmebecausethelastclerkleft.”“We needed you because she left. I would have hired you even if she had

stayed.Thatclerkyoureplaced,allshedidaroundherewaspainthernailsandstinktheplaceupwiththesmellofnailpolish.Fewpeoplehavewhatyouhave,Mary. I probably shouldn’t tell you because you’ll ask for a raise, but we’veincreasedoursalesbythirtypercentsinceyoustarted.”Thankstomydaddy,shethoughtsilentlytoherself.Mr.Jankowitzcontinued.“Idon’twantyouto leave.Butyou’re the typeof

personwho is ultimately destined towork for herself. Entrepreneurship offersyouunlimitedopportunitybothcreativelyandfinancially.Iwantthatforyou.SoI’mtryingtohelpyoudothatwhileyou’restillhere.”Hepausedformoment,thensaid,“Honestly,Idon’tknowwhatEvaandIare

goingtodoaroundherewithoutyoursmiletobrightenthisplaceup.We’lljusthave to deal with that when the time comes.” Mr. Jankowitz appeared to begettingmisty-eyed.Heturnedaway,puthisgogglesbackon,andrelithistorch.Mary skipped away and bounced up the stairs. Eva was watching the

customers while waiting for Mary. They were considering buying someexpensiveearrings.Shestillhadthesmileonthatshe’dhadwhenMaryarrived

forwork.When the customers left, Eva put the earrings back into the case and

approached Mary with excitement. “You’re going to have to teach me thisintention thing you’re doing,” she toldMary. “I never thoughtMr. Jankowitzwouldshareyouwithanyone,especiallyattheriskoflosingyou.”“ImustadmitthatI’msurprisedmyself,”Maryreplied.“Butthat’sthepower

ofintention.I’llshowyouhowifyou’reinterested.”Evanoddedquicklyandsmiled.“Great,let’sbeginnow,”saidMary.ShewalkedEvaovertothejewelrycase

withthemalabeads.“Areyoudrawntoanyofthegemstonesinparticularonthemalaswehavehere?”Evapulledoutthelightblueamazonitemalabeadsandheldthem.“I’vehad

myeyeonthismalaforacoupleweeks.Someonealmostboughtit,andIwassogladwhenshedidn’t.”Maryclosedthecase.“I’mbuyingthatoneforyou,then,”shetoldEva.“Ohno,Mary.Ican’tacceptit.”“Please,Eva.I’vewantedtofindawaytothankyouforthekindnessyou’ve

shownmesincethefirstdayIwalkedintothisstore.Itwouldbemypleasuretogiveyouyourfirstmala.”EvahuggedMaryandasked,“Sothis iswhatyourhusbandusedtoturnhis

lifearoundthewayhedid?”“Yes.AndiftheycanworkforRobby,trustme,they’llworkforanyone.”Thewomenbrokeoutinlaughter.Fortheremainderoftheirshift,MarytaughtEvaeverythingshehadlearned

aboutusingthemalafromRobbyandCaroline.Evabeganusingitthateveningwhenshegothome.Shewasveryexcitedaboutgettingintouchwithherinnerconnectiontothedivine.

ROBBYWOKEUP toabeautiful,sunnyday.Hegrabbedhimselfacoffteaand stared out the living room window overlooking the reservoir. The waterreflectedthesunlightinawaythatwasalmosttoobrighttolookdirectlyatit.“Sureisnicetowakeuptothatview,huh?”saidMary,whohadcomefrom

upstairsandwaswalkingintothekitchen.ShegrabbedherselfacoffeeandsatbesideRobby.Robbylookedatherwithawarmsmile.“I’mreallygladyougotusintothis

place.It’ssomuchmoreinspiringthantheoldplace.”“Iknow,right?Iloveit,too.GuesswhatI’mdoinginalittlewhile.”“Noidea.What?”“GivingJennyapaintinglesson.”“Ourlandlord?”“Yeah.We’regoingtopaintflowersinthegarden.”“That’swhat I’m talkingabout.Youneverwouldhavedone that atourold

place.”“Iknow. Ican’tbelievewe livehere.”Theyboth tooksipsof theircoffees.

“Howareyoufeelingaboutlosingyourmalathesedays?Anydifferent?”“Tobehonest,I’mstilllookingovermyshoulder,expectingsomethingbadto

happen, like all thegood that came from themala isgoing to fall apart.Lookwhathappenedwithmytruck.Canyoubelieveit’sgoingtocostfifteenhundredbuckstorebuildthetransmission?”

“Robby, you expecting something bad to happen is no different than yousettingtheintentionthatbadthingsaregoingtohappen.DidyoulearnnothingfrompracticingyourmalaandthelectureMattgaveyouaboutthenews?”The phone rang, startling them both. Robby kissedMary on the top of her

head, walked into his office, and answered the phone. “RobbyRobinson,” hesaid.“Mr. Robinson, I’m attorney James Calhoun from Calhoun, Bristol, and

Cummings.Doyouhaveamomenttotalk?”“Ahh, sure. What’s this about, Mr. Calhoun?” Robby wrote the attorney’s

namedownonanotepad.“My client is SusanDavenport. I understand you received a downpayment

fromherlatehusband,Dale,intheamountoffifteenthousanddollars.Shefeelsthatsheisentitledtoarefundconsideringhehasdiedandyoudidnotfinishthebook.”Robby’s entire body stiffened. I have to stop picking up the phone when I

don’tknowwho’scalling,hethoughttohimself.“Look,Mr.Calhoun,IhavedeepcompassionforSue’slossandI’msaddened

byDale’sdeath, too,howeverIhaveacontract thatsays thedownpayment isnonrefundable.Dalesignedit.There’sareasonit’snonrefundable,whichisthatIturndownoffersfromotherpotentialclientswhenIacceptanewclient.Thosepotential clients findotherghostwriters.Sowhen something like thishappens,whenaclientdies,itcantakemonthsbeforeIfindanewclient.Plus,DaleandIworkedonhisbooktogetherdiligentlyforweeks.Iearnedthatmoneyalready.Infact,Iwasgoingtobeaskinghimforthenexttwenty-percentinstallmentofmyfeetheverydayhedied.I’msorry,butIwon’tbegivingSuearefund.Quitefrankly, I can’t believe amultimillionaire is concerned about fifteen thousanddollarsanyway.”“It’snottheamount,Mr.Robinson.It’stheprinciple.Dalepaidyouadown

paymentforsomethingthatnevergotfinished.”“Actually, he paid me for services rendered. Because I expected to earn

seventy-five thousand from that book, now I’m sixty thousand short. Doesanyonecareaboutthat?”“Ifyoudon’tagreetotherefund, thenperhapswe’llneedtotakethis tothe

nextstep.”“Whichiswhat,exactly?”askedRobby.“Litigation,I’mafraid.”“She’sgoingtosuemeforfifteengrandthatIalreadyearned?Itwillcosther

moreinlawyers’feesthanshe’llgetifshewins.”“Yes,butitwillalsocostyoumore,too.LikeIsaid,it’stheprinciple.”

“Theprincipleathandshouldbethatshefollowherhusband’swishesbecausehe was the one who signed the contract that said it’s a nonrefundable downpayment.”“We’llbeintouch,Mr.Robinson.”JamesCalhounhungupwithoutwaiting

foraresponse.“Okay,thankssomuchforthecall,”saidRobby,knowinghewastalkingto

dead air. Robby hung up the phone and sat in silence.First my truck breaksdown,andnowImightbesued?hethought.Ikeeptellingeveryonethatlosingmymalaisabadomen,butdoesanyonelisten?HecalledMattandarranged tomeethimforabeer.HeknewMattwas the

bestpersontotalkhimofftheledge.

MATTWALKED INTOMurphy’sRestaurant andBar and spottedRobbysittingatatableinthebararea.Thereweremirrorssportingthenamesofliquorbrands hanging on all the walls alongside framed photographs of Ireland thatlooked like they had been taken fifty years prior.Matt sat down across fromRobbyataroundpubtablewithtallstools.“Youorderyet?”heasked.Robbynodded, lookingbehindMatt, to signal the beerswere on theirway.

The bartender placed them on the table. “Two Guinness at your service,gentlemen.”“Withashamrockontop.Nice,”saidMatt,referringtothewaythebartender

formedashamrockinthefoamontopofthebeer.Thebartenderleft,andRobbysaid,“Thanksforcoming,Matt.”“Ofcourse.I’malwaysupforabeer.”“Ihaven’tbeenheresinceMaryandIsawStanthatnight.”Matt chuckled as he sipped his stout. “Let’s hope he doesn’t pop in while

we’rehere.Sowhat’sgoingon,Numbnuts?”“AlittlebadlucksinceIlostmymala.Firstmytruckbrokedown.NowSue

Davenportissuingme.”“Suingyou?No,wait—yousaidherlawyeronlythreatenedtosueyou.”“Yeah,butthewaythingshavebeengoing…”“Yougottastop.That’ssomethingthatmightneverhappen,sodon’tturnthat

negativepossibilityintoanaffirmationthatyousendouttotheUniverse.”

Robby ignored his last comment. “You can’t deny that bad things havehappened since losing my mala—the truck breaking down and Sue’s lawyercalling happened back to back. So you have to admit that I wasn’t beingparanoidafterall.”Mattlookedaroundtheroom.“Whatareyoulookingfor?”askedRobby.“Toseeifanybodyelseheardthenonsensethatjustcameoutofyourmouth.

You’re a riot, you know that? You’re like a dog chasing his own tail andwonderingwhyhekeepsgettingbitten.”Robbylaughed.“Wow,that’squiteavisual.”“Youhavetochangetheanglefromwhichyou’reseeingthis,dude.It’slike

you’re trying to convinceme that losingyourmalahasbrought doom toyourlife.Doyouknowhowwarpedthatperspectiveis?”“Illuminate me because I honestly don’t see it. From my perspective,

everyone around me is living in some kind of denial about what’s reallyhappening.”“Robby,it’snotthatlosingyourmalabeadsattractedsomethingbadintoyour

life.It’sthatyourbeliefthatlosingyourmalabeadsisgoingtoattractsomethingbadattractedexactlywhatyouexpected.Expectationisapowerfulforce.Yourconstantlookingoveryourshoulderforanegativeconsequenceistheattentionyougavethatbelief.It’sprobablywhyyourtruckbrokedown,andI’msureit’swhatattractedSuetohirealawyertothreatenyouwithalawsuit.”Robby ran a hand through his hair and leaned back on his chair. “Go on

becauseI’mstillnotbuyingit.”“Mypointisthatthetruckandthelawyerhadnothingtodowithlosingyour

mala, except that losingyourmala iswhat createdyour fear.Your fear fueledyour belief that you are vulnerable without your mala. Fear plus belief plusexpectationequalsamatchedresponsefromtheUniverse.Inthiscase,yourfear,plus your belief that losing your mala is unlucky, plus your expectation ofsomethingbadhappening,ledyoutogetexactlywhatyouexpected—anegativeconsequence.“Seewhat apowerful beingyouare,my fearful friend?Youaredivinity in

physicalform.Andlookwhatyoucreatedallonyourown!”“Soyou’resayingthatIcreatedwhatIfeared,”saidRobby.“Well,Iguessit’s

possible. It seems a bit chicken or the egg, but I must admit thatmy fear ofsomething bad happening after losing my mala did come before my truckbreakingdownandSue’slawyercalling.Iguesswhatyousaycouldbetrue.”“Ohmygod,Knuckleheadfinallygetsit.”Mattliftedhisdrinkintheair.The

mentappedtheirmugstogetherandtookasip.

“Whatdoyou think I shoulddoaboutSue?Should Ihire a lawyer?”askedRobby.“Canyouaffordalawyer?”“Well,no.Iguessnot.”“Thenuseyourthoughtstomakeitgoaway.VisualizeSuelettingyouoffthe

hookinsomeway.Look,ifDalesignedthecontract,shecan’twin.SovisualizeSuelettingitgo.YoumightevenwanttopraytoDaletohelpyouout.He’sinaplaceofinfluencenow.”“WhatotherchoicedoIhave,right?”Thebartenderdroppedoff twoplatesofmarblecheesecakeand twospoons.

“Didyouorderthis?”askedMatt.Robbywasalreadyeatinghis.“Ourbeersarenearlyfull.Weneedsomething

togowiththem.”Robbythenabruptlydroppedhisspoonandbegansniffingthecheesecake.“Whatareyoudoing?”askedMatt.“Doyoutastepeanutsorpeanutbutterinthis?Itmightbeinthecrust.”Matttookabiteandhelditinhismouthtoevaluate.“Crap!IthinkIdo.”Robby jumpedupandquicklywentover to thebartender.“Doyouknow if

there’sanythingpeanutinthischeesecake,maybeinthecrust?”Thebartender’seyeswidened.“Youallergic?”“Yes,deathly.”“I’llgochecktheingredients.”Herandownstairstothekitchen.Twominutes

later, he was back with the cheesecake box. “Yes. There are peanuts in thecrust.”“Ihavetorushtothehospital.Howmuchdoweoweyou?”“Justgo,”thebartenderordered.“Nocharge.”MatthadbeenthroughthisbeforewithRobby,soheknewwhattodo.They

rushedtoMatt’scarsohecoulddriveRobbytothehospital.“UMassMemorialMedicalCenter?”askedMattashehustledoutoftheparkinglot.“Yup.”Robbywas sippingwater fromawaterbottleMatthad inhis car to

easethepainofhisswellinglipsandthroat.He’dbeenthroughthisseveraltimesbefore.“Stopatthepharmacyfirst.”AsMatt drove, Robby asked, “Who frigging hides peanuts in the crust of

cheesecake,especiallyinthisdayandagewithsomanykidsallergic?Isitreallyworththerisk?”Matt raced into aCVS parking lot andRobby jumped out and ran into the

store.HelocatedtheantihistamineaisleandfoundaboxofBenadryl.Herippedopen the package right in the aisle and swallowed four twenty-five-milligramcapsules.Heranovertothepharmacist’scashregister.Thepharmacistwasbusy

behindthecounter.“I’llbejustaminute,”hetoldRobby.“I’m having a nut allergy and am rushing to the hospital. I’m at risk of

anaphylactic shock or cardiovascular collapse. Can I just leave you a ten?”Robbyshowedhimwhathewasbuying.ThepharmacistnoddedandRobbythrewatenonthecounter,thenheranout

ofthestore.Mattwaswaitinginhiscarrightoutsidethedoor.“Did you stop to look atmagazines or something?” he asked asRobby got

back in the car.Matt noticed thatRobby’s eyeswere shutting closed, his lipswereswollen,andhisbreathingwaslabored.“Youlooklikehell,”hetoldhimashezippedoutoftheparkinglot,downthestreet,andontothehighway.“Imightbegoingthereanyminute.”“You?Mr.DoTheRightThing?Idon’tthinkyou’regoingtohell.Canyou

breathe?”Robbywheezed.“Mylungsfeellikethey’refillingwithfluid,andmythroat

feels like it’s closing, even though I know that’s not technically what’shappening.”“Don’tyoucarryanEpiPen?”askedMatt.“Idid.Theyexpire!AndIhavealargedeductibleonmyhealthinsurance,so

guesswhat?Icouldn’taffordtokeepbuyingthem.”Robby’seyeswerewatering,hisnosewasdraining,andhewassneezinglike

he had a terrible case of hay fever. Robby attempted to look at his cellphonethroughhiseyesthatweremerelyslitsbythistime.HemanagedtocallMaryinspiteofeverything.Heconnectedwithhervoicemail.“Mary,we’reonourwaytoUMassMedical. I ate somethingwith peanuts in it.We just arrived. Loveyou.”Matt parked at the emergency entrance parking, flew out of his door, and

helpedhisfriendwalkfromthecartothehospital.Robbycouldbarelysee,soheneededguidance.Halfwaytothedoor,Robbystoppedwalking.“Keepwalking,man.Whatareyoudoing?”saidMatt.Therewasnoresponse.Robbielookedfaint.“Robby?Robby?”They just stood there for twenty seconds, and thenRobby seemed to come

backintohisbody.“Holycrap.ThatwasanewsymptomI’veneverhadbefore.Iwhitedout.”Mattwalkedhimthroughthedoor.“Whatdoyoumeanyouwhitedout?”“Everything just turnedwhite inmyhead,andmyhearingdisappearedas if

someonehadturneddownthevolumeinmyears.Thatwaskindofscary.”MattledRobbytothetriagenurse’sstation.“HowcanIhelpyouboys?”she

asked.“I’mhavingapeanutallergy.”Thenurse tookhisname,andMatthelpedhimgethis insurancecardoutof

hiswallet.“I’lldothislater,”shesaid.“Comewithme.”Matt stood in thewaiting room, but Robby yelled, “Matt, come! I need an

advocate.”Mattquicklyfollowed.ThenursewalkedRobbyrightintotheER,gothimonagurney,andadoctor

and another nurse came over.One nurse took off his shirt and began stickingwirestohischest.TheothernurseinsertedanIVintohisarmandtapedittohisskin.Thedoctortookhispulse,hisbloodpressure,andlistenedtohischest.“Robert,I’mDoctorLangley.Didyoutakeanymedicationforyourallergy?”Therewasnoresponse.Mattsteppedforwardandsaid,“Hekeepswhitingout

everysooften.Hetoldmehisvisionturnstowhiteandhishearingdisappearsforhalfaminute.”Thedoctorlookedatoneofthenursesnervously.Robby’seyesopened,andhelookedaroundlikehewasconfused.“Thedoctorwantstoknowwhatyoutookatthepharmacy,”MatttoldRobby.Robbypulled theBenadryl boxout of his backpocket andhanded it to the

doctor.“Itookfourofthem.”Thedoctorreadtheboxandthengavehimaninjection.“Thisisepinephrine.

Itwillkeepyourheartgoing.You’reprobablygoing to feel a little shakyandcoldatfirst,butit’sjusttemporary.”“Iknow.I’vedonethisbefore.Italsomakesmeemotional.”Robbylookedat

Matt.“IfIgetemotional,it’sjustthedrugstalking.”“Eitherway,I’mstillgoingtoteaseyouaboutitlater,man,”saidMatt.Robby’s body began to shiver, and his hands trembled.His eyes teared up.

Oneofthenursesputablanketonhimandheldhisforearm.Shespokequietly.“You’regoingtobeallright,Robby.It’llbeoverinafewminutes.”Thedoctorwalkedoverandgavehimanotherinjection.“Thisisaveryhigh

doseofantihistamine.Nowyou’regoingtogetsleepy.”RobbylookedatMatt.“Youcangonow,”hesaid.“I’mabout tofallasleep

foraboutfourhours.Thankyouforeverything.I’msureMarywillarrivetopickme up.” BeforeMatt could respond, Robby’s eyes closed and he was asleep.MattstayedbyhissideandwaitedforMary.Whileasleep,Robbydreamedhewaswithhismother.Theywerestandingin

thegrasson thesideof thehighway. In frontof themwashismother’scar. Itwasintheditchandtheeighteen-wheeler thathadhithercarwasontopof it.Robbylookedathismom.“Whyarewehere?”heasked.“Thisisn’tsomethingI

wanttosee.”“Therewasnoavoidingtheaccident,Robby,”hismothertoldhim.“Isawit

coming. People think I didn’t, but I did. I swerved and went into the ditch.That’swhenthetruckhitme.Therewasnowayyoucouldhavepreventedthisifyouwerewithme.Youcan’tpreventfate.”Helookedathismother.“Idon’tunderstand.Whydidithappen,Mom?Were

youthinkingnegativelyorsomething?”Margaret laughedsoftly.“No,honey. Itwasmy time togo.Noonediesby

thinking negatively.You can attract negative circumstances into your life, butnotdeath.”“Thenwhatdidyoudotodeservetodie?Didyoudosomethingbad?”“Youdon’tunderstand,Robby.Deathisnotapunishment.Deathisourhome.

It was my time to go home. And there were lessons that you and your dadneededtolearnbylosingme.Itwillallmakemoresensewhenit’syourturntocomehome.”Suddenlytheywerenolongerstandingonthesideofthehighway.Nowthey

werestandingsidebysideonabeach.Thesmellofsaltwaterpervadedtheair,and seagullswere flying above them.The oceanwaveswere rushing onto theshore.Robbylookedaround,buthewaslessconcernedbyhissurroundingsthanhewasaboutgettinganswers.“Likewhat?WhatcouldIpossiblylearnfromyourdeath?”“You’ve already learned one of yourmost important lessons, sweetie—that

youhavethepowerofcreationrightinsideyourownmind.”“Youmeanwiththemala?ButIlostit.”“You lost it, yet you kept creating. Look what you did with your truck’s

transmission.AndimagineinfluencingSuetohirea lawyer likeshedid.She’sactually a verykindperson. Itwas completelyout of character for her.All ofthatwasyourdoing—yourincrediblepowerofcreation.”“Soit’strue,whatMattsaid?Ireallydidallthat?DidIalsocreatethepeanut-

crustedcheesecake?”“Youdidn’tbakeit,”saidMargaretwithagrin,“butyoucertainlydrewitinto

yourlife,yes.”“So you’re telling me that it was never the mala that created the positive

changesinmylife?”“That’sright.Itwasyouwhodidallthat.Prettyneat,huh?”“Soitreallywasn’tamagicmala.Themalataughtmehowtoutilizemyown

magic.”“Using your mala, you communicated to God what you wanted, son. Few

people do that. You did it twice a day. As simple as that sounds, from my

perspective here it’s quite rare and amazing. I havewitnessed your prayers—yourmantras—travelingthroughthecosmoslikeshootingstars.”“Wheredopeople’sprayersgo?”Margaretscratchedherhead.“Ican’tsayIknowexactly.Let’sjustsaythey

gowheretheyneedtogoinordertomanifestintoreality.”Robby looked at his mother, shaking his head from side to side. “But you

didn’t need to die in order forme to learnwhat I did. I’m sure I could havelearneditwithyouhere.”“I didn’t die purely for your benefit. I died because it was my time to go

home. It’s a grand plan that’s above my pay grade to know, so to speak. Aperson’sdeathisneveraboutjustoneortwopeople.It’samasterdesignthathasinfiniteimplications.”MargaretkissedRobbyonthecheek,andinaflashhefeltasenseofpeacewashoverhim.She continued. “Here’swhat I know, and I don’t know everything, Robby.

YouwouldneverhavestruggledfinanciallywhileIwasalive.YourfatherandIwouldhavetakencareofyoubygivingyoumoney.YetwhenIdied,yourfatherlost his affluence, sohewasno longer able tohelpyou. Itwasyour financialstruggles that led you to open yourmind to themala. Discovering themagicinside of you occurred as a result of my death. And since my life was overwhetherornotyoulearnedthattruth,I’mcertainlypleasedthatyougainedthisasaresult.”Robbytookadeepbreathandexhaledslowly.“IthinkIunderstand,Mom.”“Good,becauseIhavetogo.It’stimeforyoutowakeup.Iloveyou,honey.”Robbywokeup.HeopenedhiseyesandsawMaryandMattweresittingnext

tohiminthehospitalER.“Mary.Matt.HowlongwasIout?”heaskedinagroggyvoice.“Aboutfourandahalfhours,”saidMatt.MaryleanedoverandkissedRobbyontheforehead.“Man,Ijusthadtheweirdestdream,”hetoldthem.Thedoctoroverheardhimandsaid,“Yes,thattendstohappenwhenwegive

patientsthehighdoseofantihistamineIgaveyou.”Robbywas toosleepy torespond. It tookhimabout twentyminutes to fully

getoverhisdrowsiness.After fortyminutes, thedoctor releasedhim.Robby’seyeswere still swollenandhewasmovingvery slowlyashiswife and friendhelpedhimtoMary’sSUV.Astheyreachedthecar,Maryasked,“Whatthehell,Robby?Youknowbetter

thantoeatsomethingwithoutaskingabouttheingredients.Especiallydessert.”Robbyshruggedhisshoulders.“Iguess itwasmeant tobe. I learnedavery

valuablelessonfromallthis.”

“What’sthat?”sheasked.“ThatI’maverypowerfulmanifestor.Icanattractgoodthingsintomylifeor

Icanattractbadthings.IgetwhatIbelieveI’llget.Ijustwishonething.”“What’sthat,buddy?”saidMatt.“IwishIwasn’tsuchaslowlearner.”MattandMarylookedateachotherastheybothshouted,“Sodowe!”

MATTDROVEUPtoRobby’scondoinhisBMW.Hegotout,grabbedthesuitcase sitting on the steps, and tossed it in his trunk. A few seconds later,Robbycameout,jumpedinthecar,andtheywereofftotheBigApple.“Youfeelingbetter,Boogerbutt?”“Iam.Muchbetter.”“Thank God. If you get one more peanut allergy when I’m with you, you

won’tneedme to rushyou to thehospitalbecause I’ll kill youmyself.That’snerve-racking!Pleasedon’tdothatagain.”“I’m sorry. I’ll be more cautious about checking the ingredients at

restaurants.”Robbypaused for amoment, then said, “Hey, you’ll never guesswhoemailedme.”“IfI’llneverguess,thenjusttellme.Who?”“SueDavenport.Sheactuallyapologized for sickingher lawyeronme.She

saidthatsomefriendsofhersgotinsideherhead,butonceherattorneytoldherwhatIsaidtohim,sheunderstoodbetterwhythedownpaymentwasfair.”“Hadyouvisualizedherdoingsomethinglikethat,likeIsuggested?”“Idid.Iguessitworked.”“Sonomoregrievingforthemalatheneither?”“Nomoregrieving.Idomisssayingmymantraonehundredandeighttimes

twiceaday.Ican’tverywellkeeptrackonmyfingers.”“That’s okay. If that’s all you’reworried about, you can always get a new

mala.”“YouknowthatdreamIhadatthehospital?”“TheoneyoutoldusaboutoutsidetheER?”“Yeah.Idon’tknowifitwasreallymymothervisitingmeorifitwasjusta

dream.It’sstilldifficultformetobelieveitwasMomwithoutproof.Regardless,thatdreamreallyhelpedme.”“Howisthat?”askedMatt.“Ithelpedmetrulyrecognizethatitwasn’tthemalathatimprovedmylife.It

wasme.Themalataughtmehowtoworkwithanintention.Itservedasatooltouseinordertodoit.AndithelpedmecreatearitualforfocusingmymindonwhatIwantwithoutthedistractionofmycritical,negativeself-talkinterfering.”RobbylookedatMatt.“Prettygood,huh?”Mattwastemporarilydistractedbyaneighteen-wheelerpullingintohislane.

Ashemovedintothefastlaneandzippedaroundit,Robbybracedhimselfinhisseat.Mattlookedoverathimtoindicatehehadbeenpayingattentiontowhathesaid.“Awesome,man.CanIaddtothat?CauseI’vebeenwaitingallsummerfor

youtounderstandthis,”saidMatt.“Sure,please.You’llsayitbetterthanIdidanyway.”“Thepointof themala isnot tomakeyoubelieve it ismagical,”Matt said.

“ThepointofthemalaistoteachyouthatYOUare.Youhavethepower,dude!You’ve had it all along. With or without a mala, you are the being that’sconnected to theUniverse. That’swhat I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m gladyourmotherwasfinallyabletodrivethatmessagehometoyou.”“Me,too.Evenifitwasonlyadream,itwasdamnhelpful.”Matt laughed.“Youknow,your storykindof remindsmeofTheWizardof

Oz.Dorothyneededtolearnwhatwasimportantinherlife.HerjourneytoOztaughtherthatthere’snoplacelikehome.Youneededtolearnthatyouhavethepowerwithinyoutocreateyourlife.Themalataughtyouhowtodothatusingyourthoughts,words,andactions.”“Great,”saidRobby.“You’vereducedmyepiphanytoafairytale.”IgnoringRobby’scomment,Mattadded,“That’salltheUniversewantsfrom

us,Robby.Weareheretocreate.”“Create?”Robbyasked.“Yes, create. Parents create a life during lovemaking.Architects, engineers,

and constructionworkers create houses, skyscrapers, and cities. Entrepreneurscreatebusinessesthatemploypeople.Authorscreatebooksthatparentsreadtotheir children. Artists create artwork that beautifies homes and offices.Filmmakers createmovies that entertain families.Musicians createmusic that

upliftsandinspirespeople.Wecreateevenwhenwedon’tknowwe’recreating.Andhowdowedothat,Robert?Youknowthisone.”“Bywhatwethink,whatwesay,andwhatwedo.”“That’s it. So listen, buddy, because I don’twant you to bemistaken about

this.Repeatingyourmantraahundredandeighttimesisonlyonewaytofocusonyourintentionwithoutallowingyourcriticalself-talktocontradictit.It’snotevenhowmany timesyou say it thatmatters. It’s reallyabout the intensityofyourfocus.”Robbyhadneverconsideredthatbefore.“Weliveinadimensionoftime,soyoucanthinkofitintermsofhowmuch

time you spend focusing on your desires, even though that’s not entirelyaccurate.More accurately, it’s about howmuch you focus onwhat youwantversus howmuch you focus onwhat you don’t want. Sincewe tend to thinkaboutourfearsandworriesunconsciously,weneedtoolslikethemalatothinkaboutourdesiresconsciously.”“Sowhatdoyoudoifyoudon’tuseamala?”askedRobby.“Ipersonallypreferusingavarietyofmethodsbecause Igetboredeasily. I

use themala somedays.Other days I dowhatMarydoes—I readmywrittenintentioneithersilentlyoroutloudseveraltimesaday.“You know,Caroline and I used to have one of thosewhite boards on our

wall,andwelistedallourintentionsonit.Wewrotethingslike:‘Houseofftheroad by a river,’ ‘BMW7 Series,’ ‘Second store located inConnecticut,’ and‘VacationinIreland.’Everytimewewalkedbythatboard,weeitherreadthemoutloudorjustthoughtabouttheminourheads.Inayearandahalf,everyoneofthoseintentionsmanifestedforus.”“Wow,that’ssoeasy,too,”saidRobby.“Other days I do what Caroline prefers, which is to challenge herself to

mention her intention in conversation with others as many times as possible.You’dbesurprisedhowmanyopportunitiesyougettotalkaboutit.Insteadoftalking about the weather, sports, or what’s wrong with the world, she talksaboutwhatshe’sworkingtowardintentionally,suchas tickets toaconcertshewantstoattend,sellingouthernextworkshop,orfindinganewmentorwhocantakehertothenextlevelinherpersonalgrowth.”“That’s an interestingmethod. I don’t know if I coulddo thatwhen talking

withpeople.”“Why not? People talk about all sorts of things in conversation. It’s more

interestingthantalkingabouttheweatherforthetenthtimethatday.HowhardisittocasuallymentionthatyouwanttoseesomeBroadwayplaythat’scomingtoBostonorthatyou’rewritingabookandwaitingtogetapublishingcontract?

Easy,right?”“Iguessthatwouldn’tbetooweird.”“And then, finally, there’s the method that your father prefers. He uses

meditation.Herelaxeshisbodyandthen,oncehe’sinapeacefulstateofmind,hevisualizestheendresultofwhathe’sintendingtocreate.That’showhegothealthyagain.”MattstoppedtalkingasheswitchedfromRoute295totheMassTurnpike.He

waited until theywere through the tollbooth before he continued. “Years ago,youroldmantoldmeexactlyhowheusesmeditationandvisualization.Ineverrealizeditcouldbeusedforanythingotherthanhealth.ThefirsttimeIusedit,man, I would just visualize what I would do with the extra money once mybusinessstartedmakingmoreincome.I thoughtaboutourdreamhouse,whichwe later purchased. I thought about the vacations we’d take. We’ve taken acoupleof themalready. I thoughtaboutbuyingmyfatheranantiqueModelAFord.Inevergottodothatonebecauseofmyfather’shealth,butIbelievethatthatvisualizationhelpedthemost.”“Eventhoughyounevergottodoit?”saidRobby.“Whydidthatonehelpthe

most?”“ItwassomethingIwantedtodosopassionatelythatIoftenweptduringthe

visualization.”MattpointedatRobby.“TellanyoneIsaidthatandI’llbeatyouintotheground.”Robby laughed. “Okay, tough guy. So are you tellingme that crying helps

yourvisualizationsucceed?”“It’s not the crying, specifically; it’s the emotion that I felt during the

visualization. If you can visualize with your imagination as well as youremotions…inotherwords,ifyoucanaddfeelingstoyourvisualization,thosefeelingsarelikeaddingfueltoyourintentions.“Youhave tounderstand, the reason I criedwhen I imaginedmyselfgiving

theModelAFordtomyfatherwasbecauseitwasdeeplymeaningfultome.ItwassomethingI’dalwayswishedIcoulddo.Iknewhowhappyitwouldmakemydad,soIeasilyimaginedhisjoyinmyvisualizationofthatscene,andIfeltlikeIwasreallythere.BeingthereinmymindallowedmetoactuallyfeelwhatIwouldbe feeling in themoment.Consequently,notonlywas I crying inmyimagination,IwasactuallycryingasIvisualizedthescene.”“That’scool,”saidRobby.“IthinkIunderstandit.”“ItwasbizarrebecauseevenasIdidit,IknewthattheemotionIwasfeeling

was somehow turbo-boostingmy intention of creating financial success inmybusiness.Ilaterdiscussedthiswithyourdad,andhetoldmethattheemotionalcomponent is a well-known metaphysical truth: our feelings make our

visualizationsmorepotent.”RobbyturnedinhisseattofaceMatt.“Whendidyoutalktomyfatherabout

allthis?WherewasI?”“Are you kidding?When your father had us all over for your birthday that

time.WhenI’dbumpintohimat thecoffeeshop.Heck,I’daskhimquestionsanychanceIgot.IknewheusedtoteachthisstuffbecauseCarolinewasoneofhisstudents.”“Oh yeah, he told me that,” said Robby. “I always thought he taught

philosophy.”“Hedid.Metaphysicsisaphilosophicaltradition.Carolinewasinhiscollege

classbeforewegotmarried.She taughtmea lotherself,but IwouldaskyourdadquestionswheneverIsawhimbecauseshealwaystoldmewhatawisemanheis.”Robbyleanedhisheadagainstthecardoorwindow,rubbinghisfacewithhis

hand.Mattglancedathimandcouldtellhewasupsetaboutsomething.“Face it, you were Mr. Journalism back then. You didn’t want to hear

anybodytalkaboutanythingthatwasn’tbackedbyscience.Evenwhenquantumphysicistswereprovingallthesemetaphysicalconcepts,yourmindwasalreadyclosed.That’swhynobodytalkedaboutthisstuffaroundyou.That’stheirony,right?Skepticslookatusandthink,Whatabunchofnaivemeatbags.Untiloneday,thefewwhowakeuparewonderingwhynoonesharedthesecretsoflifewiththem.”Mattsawanoldercarinthebreakdownlaneandimmediatelypulledover.He

puthisflashersonandpulledbehindthecar.Robbywastakenbysurprise.“Whoa!What’sgoingon?”“Just follow me, Juicyfruit.” He and Robby got out and found an elderly

gentlemansittinginthedriver’sseatfiddlingwithacellphone.Mattknockedontheman’swindow,andthemanrolleditopen.“Areyouapoliceman?”themanasked.“No,”saidMatt.“Wejuststoppedtoseeifyouneededanyassistance.”“What?”Mattrepeatedhimself,butlouderthistime.ThemanhandedMatthiscellphone.“Canyouget this towork?Ikeepit in

thecarforemergencies.NowthatIneedit,Ican’tgetittowork.”Mattfiddledwiththephone.“Thebatteryisdead,sir.”Matthandeditbackto

him.“Thebattery’sdead?ItwasfullwhenIputitintheglovebox.”“Whenwas that, sir?”Matt shouted.He sounded like hewas yelling at the

man.

“MykidsgaveittomeforChristmas.Theychargeditforme,andIputitinhere.”Matt chuckledwithout theman noticing. “You need to charge these things

everyweek,sir.”Robbywalkedup.“He’sgotaflatonhisrightreartire.Let’sjustchangeitfor

him.”“Sir,didyouknowyouhaveaflattire?”askedMatt.“Ofcourse.That’swhyIwastryingtocallTripleA.DoyouhaveaphoneI

canuse?”Mattlookedatthespeedingtrafficwhizzingbyandnoticedthattheman’scar

wasbarelyinthebreakdownlane.“We’rehappytochangethetireforyou.Youneverknowhowlongyou’llhavetowait.Ifyougivemethekeys,wecangetyourspareoutofthetrunk.”HelookedatRobbyandwhispered,“Ifthesparehasanyairinit.”The man got out of the car to open the trunk for them and unknowingly

steppedintothehighway.Atrailertruckwasheadingrighttowardhim.Robbyranup to themanandgentlyguidedhimtosafety.Theman lookedatRobby,irritated.“Youdon’thavetopush,”hetoldRobby.Thetrailertruckblewsandon their shoes as it rushedpast them.Themandidn’t notice. “I’m sorry, sir,”saidRobby.HesmirkedatMatt.Theywaitedasthemanslowlyfoundthetrunkkeyandunlockedit.Thecar

was old, but it looked like it had never been driven.The trunkwas clean andorganized.Eventhesparetirelookednew,anditwasareal-sizedtireratherthanthedoughnutstyle.“Whatdoyouknow?Ithasairinit,”saidMatt.A half hour later, the spare was on the car. Robby made sure to place

everythingbackinthetrunkthewaytheyfoundit.Themantriedtogivethemeach a five-dollar bill, but they refused. They slowlywalked him back to thedriver’s seat sooncomingcarswouldn’thithim.He thanked them three timesfortheirassistance.Themanwavedastheyoungmenwavedbackandwatchedhimdriveaway.OncebackinMatt’sBMWanddrivingdowntheMassPike,MattandRobby

wereeachfocusedontheirthoughtsforawhile.Robbywasthefirsttotalk.“Doyoualwaysstopwhenyouseeacaronthesideoftheroad?”heaskedMatt.“No.WhenIseesomethinglike that, Iaskmybodyif Ishouldpullover to

help,anditusuallytellsme.”“Yourbody?Howdoesittellyou?”“Well,Ieithergetagoodfeelingorabadfeeling,andI’velearnedtotrustit.”“Doyoueverfeelnothing,likeyoudon’tfeelgoodorbadbutsomethingin

themiddle?”Matt shook his head in amazement ofRobby’s alwayswanting a definitive

answer.“Itdoesn’tworklikethatforme.IeitherfeelgoodorIfeelbad.Itallhappens so fast. By the time I see a car in the breakdown lane, I only havesecondstomakeadecision.IfItakeanylonger,I’malreadypastthecar,anditwould be dangerous to stop and back up. That works inmy favor. I gowithwhateverIfeelatthatinstant.”“Okay.Sowhatifyou’reinahurry?Doyoustopifyou’vegotameetingand

helpingthepersonwillmakeyoulate?”MattbegantorealizehowmuchRobbyoperatedfromhisintellectversushis

intuition.“You’vebeendoingthismalabeadpracticeforafewmonthsnow,butdoyouevenunderstand—Imean,reallyunderstand—whatit’sallabout?”Robbyshruggedhisshoulders.Hefeltitwasatrickquestion.“Doyoubelieveinspiritguides?”Mattaskedhim.“Idon’tknow.Idon’tnotbelieveinthem,butIhaven’treallygivenitmuch

thought. Ididmeetagirlat the librarywhowasobsessedwithmalas,andshesaidshebelievesherspiritguidesworkwithGod.ItwasthesamedayIfoundmymala.”“Okay,that’sastart.Andwhat’shername?”“Truth.”“Yeah,Iwantthetruth.”“No,that’shername,Truth.”“Seriously?Youmetagirlat the librarynamedTruthwhotoldyoushehas

spiritguideswhoworkwithGod?”“Yeah,whyisthatsoweird?”Matt just smiled tohimselfat theamazementof it all. “Haveyouever seen

thispersonagain?”“No,justthatonce.”MattglancedoveratRobby.“Well, thisis thepointI’mtryingtomake.Let

mejusttellyouwhatIbelieve,andyoucantakeitorleaveit.”“Knockyourselfout,”Robbytoldhim.“It helps me to understand metaphysics better by believing that we are all

guidedbysomehigherpower.SoIliketoimaginethatthishigherpowerthatIcall theUniversegets somehelp fromspiritualbeings that I call spirit guides.AndI like to imagine thateverypersonhasoneor twoguides thatwatchoverhimforhisentirelife,orherentirelife.Areyoufollowingme?”“Yup!Keepgoing,”saidRobby.“Well, Ibelieve that thesespiritguideshaveahigherviewofour lives than

wedoatanygivenmoment.Idon’tbelievetheycanseetoofarintothefuture

sinceweallhavefreewillandcanmakechoicesthatchangeourdirectionatanymoment.ButIdobelievetheycanseeintoourmoreimmediatefuture,perhapsafewminutesormaybeevenafewdaysorweeksahead,andcanseewhatwe’llexperienceifwedon’tmakeanyunexpectedchoicesthatareoutofcharacterforus.Areyoustillwithme?”“I’mwithyou.”“So it’s these spirit guides who are communicating with us when we talk

about the fourways theUniverse communicateswith us.Remember intuition,coincidence,messengers,andevents?”“Ihavethemmemorized,”Robbysaidproudly.“Great.Usingtheexampleoftheelderlymanwiththeflattire,hewasdriving

a1985blueChevyImpala.Well,mymotherused todrivea1985blueChevyImpala.Ijusthappenedtoseeaphotographofmymotherinfrontofhercarjusttwodaysago,and for some reason itgotme thinkingabouthowcool thatcarwas.I’veseenthatphotoazilliontimesbefore,butonlytwodaysagoInoticedthecarandthoughtaboutit.“Sotoday,twodaysafterIsawthatphotograph,Iseethesamecar,sameyear

asmymother’s,inthebreakdownlane.AndallIcanthinkofismymother.Inthespeedof light, thoughts flash inmymindofhowthatcouldhavebeenmymotherstrandedlikethatwhenshestillhadhercar.That’swhyInoticedtheoldguy’scar, and that’swhy Iquickly felt—notice I said felt,not thought—that Ineededtopullovertohelphim.”Robby turned to faceMatt. “Therefore, itwas thecoincidenceof seeing the

photo,thinkingaboutthecar,andthenseeingthatcartwodayslaterthatmadeyoupayattention.Right?”“Yes. Itwas alsomy intuition because despite the coincidence I still asked

myselfwhenIsawitifIshouldstop.WhenIdid,thefeelingIhadinmybodywas an excited feeling, like butterflies in my stomach, rather than a negativefeelinglikefearordoom.”“Igetit,”saidRobby.“Sowhatyou’resayingisthatyourspiritguidessetthis

up for you? Like maybe they intuitively made you notice the photograph acoupledaysagosothatyouwouldnoticetheoldguytoday?Isthatpossible?”“Oh,Robby,it’snotonlypossible,Ibelieveithappensallthetime.”“Whatdoesitmean?Whywouldyourguidesdothat?”“Well, Boy Wonder, that’s where faith comes in. Sometimes we find out

down the road. Sometimes we never know. But we have to trust there’s areason.”“Likewhatmightbeareason?”“Itcouldbethattheoldman’sspiritguidesgotmyspiritguidestoinfluence

metohelphim.Oritcouldbethatmyguidesknewtherewouldbeanaccidentdowntheroadthatwehavenowavoided.Oritcouldbethatweneededtoarriveatthehotelatacertaintimeinordertobumpintosomebodywhoisimportantinoneofourlives.ThetruthisthatIdon’tknowandIdon’tcare.Ijusttrustthatthere’sareason.”“Youbelieveourspiritguidesarealwaystryingtodirectusinsomeway?”“Honestly, it’smore that it helpsme to imagine it thatway. It helpsme to

thinkthatmyguidesaremyconduittotheUniverse.”Afterabriefpause,Mattadded,“Tobefair, Idon’t thinkourhumanbrains

arecapableoffullyunderstandingtheinfiniteworkingsoftheUniverseandthespiritualdimension.Thebestwecanexpect is tohaveanunderstanding that’s‘true,notaccurate,’ true to thebestofourability tounderstand iteven thoughit’snotcompletelyaccuratefromaspiritual-dimensionperspective.Somyideaofhowmyspiritguideshelpmeisprobably‘true,notaccurate,’butthatworksforme.”Robby looked like he was a bit lost in the conversation. He was back to

staringouthispassenger-sidewindow.“The point I’m making is that it’s quite a coincidence that you met a girl

namedTruthwho is obsessed bymalas on the same day that you found yourmala.Don’tyouagree?”Robbyshruggedhis shouldersagain.“Now thatyousay it thatway, itdoes

seemlikeanamazingcoincidence.”“Acoincidence,right.Sowhatmightshehavebeenforyou?”“Amessenger?”“Right. In fact, shemightevenhavebeena spiritguideoraguardianangel

senttoyoufromtheUniverse.”Robby’s head lifted like he’d had an epiphany. “She used that phrase …

guardianangel.Shesaidshebelievedinguardianangelsandspiritguides.”“It’s almost like she was trying to give you a hint into something,” Matt

suggested,likehewastalkingtoachild.“Yeah.Youknow,shedidjustsuddenlyappearoutofnowhere.Iwasreading

mymalamanual,andthenextthingIknewshewasjustthere,staringatme.”Mattadded,“I’mnotsayingshewasorshewasn’tanangel.I’mjustsaying

thatshewasamessenger,anditwasquiteacoincidencethatshewasobsessedwithmalas,nottomentionthathernamewasTruth.”Matt tappedRobbyon the shoulder. “Idon’tknowwhat she toldyou,but I

havetobelievethatshecametoyouattherighttimewithwhatevermessageyouneededtohearat thatmoment.Andthat’swhatI’mtalkingabouthere.Weallneed to be more aware of these special moments because this is how the

Universehelpsusalong.Andthat’swhyIstoppedtohelptheoldguy.”“Hmm,”wasallRobbycouldsay.Hewasabsorbedinthought.“Ohcrap!”saidMattashelightlyhitthebrakes.Robbylookedforward.Allthecarsinfrontofthemwerestopping.“Maybethatwastheaccidentwemissedbecausewehelpedfix theflat,”he

saidtoMatt.Mattbangedhissteeringwheel.“Idon’tknow.Sometimesatrafficjamisjust

atrafficjam.AllIknowis,thissucks.”Matt’s BMW rolled to a stop behind the traffic jam. Tenminutes went by

beforeastatepolicecruiserpassedtheminthebreakdownlane.Afewminuteslater,anambulanceandafiretruckdrovethrough.Afteranotherfiveminutes,atowtruckfollowed.Thirtyminuteslater,trafficbeganmovingslowly.Anhourlater,theywerebacktofullspeed.As they drove by the accident,Matt noticed that a car had rolled over. He

checkedtoseeifitwasaChevyImpala,butitwasn’t.TherewasanSUVthathadbeensideswiped,whichwasalreadyhookeduptothetowtruck.HelookedovertosaysomethingtoRobbybutsawhehadfallenasleepinthepassenger’sseat.TheystillhadfourhoursofdrivingtoreachManhattan,soMattturnedontheradiotolistentothesportschannel,whichwasanicebreakfrombeingtheteacherforawhile.

DAVEARRIVEDAT the hospital to teach hismeditation class to patients.Before he got on the elevator, he looked through the window of the chapeldoorwaytoseeifFatherBurkewasaround.Thechaplainwassittingquietlyatthefrontpewwriting.DavewalkedupthemiddleaisletothepewbeforeBurkesensedhewasthere.Davespokequietly.“How’smyfavoriteholyman?”Burke put his notebook and pen down on the bench and stood to greet his

friend. “I had planned to come find you when your class was over,” he toldDave.“Well,Ihaveafewminutesbeforeitbegins,soIthoughtI’dseehowthings

wentwithyouandGeorge.”Burkeappearedanxioustotalk.Davesatdowntoindicatehisfriendhadhis

fullattention.“I’llgiveyouthelongerstorywhenwehavemoretime,butIcangiveyoua

summarynow.”“Dotell,Father.I’vebeenanxioustohearaboutit.”“Letmebeginbythankingyouonemoretime.IhadnoideajusthowmuchI

needed that reunion.We reallydidn’t pussyfoot aroundandgot straight to theheartofwhatwasmostpressingonbothourminds.”“Whatelsecanyou say, right?Whathaveyoubeendoing for the last sixty

years?”jokedDave.

“It’s true.Thegistof it is thatwhatI thoughtwas trueaboutmyfatherwassimplymisinterpretationsIhadmade,justlikeyousuggestedmightbethecase.Youradvicewasinvaluable.Itookthetimetolistentohissideofthestory,andI’msogladIdid.”“I’mrelieved.Evenwhenwe,ourselves,havegiventhisadvicetoothers,we

oftenneedsomeonetoremindusofitregardingourownlives.Pleasegoon.”“My father didn’t give me up because he didn’t love me. He gave me up

because he thought it was best for me. Dave, he truly believed he was notequippedtoraiseme.Hehasbeenhomelessalmosthisentireadultlife,theonlyexceptionbeingwhenhewaswithmymother.Andsinceherdeath,he’sonlybeen sober the last eightyears.Mymotherwashis strength,his foundation ineveryway.Whenhelosther,helostalotmorethanjusthiswife.Honestly,theirrelationshipwasdreadfullycodependent.Hewasonlysoberbecauseofher.”“That’sverysad,”saidDave,waitingformoredetail.“Ihadnoideahedidthis,buthewatchedmegrowupfromadistance.Any

timehecouldseemeplayingball,playingoutsidetheschoolatrecess,orevenhangingoutwithmyfriendsattheBoysClub,hefoundawaytowatch.HekepttrackofmeuntilIwasinmymidtwenties.Mygrandparentshelpedhimfollowmyprogress.HelosttrackofmewhenImovedtoBostonforacoupleyears,andthenhewasnever able to figureoutwhere Iwas after that.Oncemyparents,whowerebiologicallymygrandparents,passedaway,hehadnoonetokeephimupdated.”“That’sprettydedicated.”“Itwas,forahomeless,joblessalcoholic.Asforhim,hewassurethatIhated

him.Still,knowinghisownweaknesses,hefeltconfidentthathehaddonewhatwasbestforme.”“Andhowareyouwithallthis?”“I’lltellyoutherestatanothertime.Longstoryshort,ithaschangedme.It’s

beennearlyaweek,andI’vebeenwalkingonair.AvoidI’vehadinsideofmeforaslongasIcanrememberhasdisappeared.Frankly,Ican’tstopsmiling.Isthatsilly?”Dave felt a sense of relief that the meeting had gone well for his friend,

especiallysincehewasresponsibleforthereunion.“There’snothingsillyaboutit.Youfoundouthowmuchyourfatherhaslovedyoualltheseyears.Youmadepeacewithsomethingthathastormentedyouyourentirelife.Youseemtohaveeliminatedanymisinterpretationsthattroubledyouforsolong.Itwouldbesillyifyoudidn’tfeelthosethings.”BurkehuggedDave.“You’reagoodfriend.HowdidIgetsolucky?”“Likewise.Youwanttohavelunchtoday?”

Theministersmiledlikeaboy.“Ican’t.I’mhavinglunchwithmydaddy.”Themenlaughed.“I’llcatchupwithyoulater,”Davetoldhim.Davetooktheelevatortothethirdfloorandwalkedtothenurse’sstation.“Goodmorning,Mr.Robinson.Your class is ready,” saidBetsy. She had a

funnysmirkonherface.“What’sup,Betsy?Whatareyouupto?”BetsyledDaveintotheconferenceroomsetasideformeditationthreedaysa

week.Davewalkedaroundthecornerandsawthathisclasshaddoubledinsize.“Ididn’tknowthisroomcouldholdtwentypeople,Betsy,”hesaid.“It’llholdthirty.Afterthat,we’llneedtofindanotherroom.Youneedtostop

beingsopopular.”“It’snotme.I’msureofthat.Peoplemustbefeelingbetterandspreadingthe

word.”“You’regoingtoputusoutofbusiness.Don’tyourealizethatthosesurgeries

andtestsarewhatpaymysalary?”Betsyteased.“Nevermind,yourstudentsarewaiting.”Shepattedhimonthebackandwalkedaway.Davewelcomedthenewcomers,taughtaboutmeditationfortwentyminutes,

and then led the class through a guided meditation for forty minutes. Thepatientssatintheirchairsclassroomstyle,facingDaveinthefrontoftheroom,whosatonacomfortableofficechair.When theclasswasover,oneof thepatients—asophisticatedwomanabout

sixty years old—approached Dave. “Thank you for today’s class, Mr.Robinson,”shesaid.Davenoticedshewasdressedstylishlyforapatient.Whilemostoftheother

peoplewereinpajamasorrobes,shewasdressedcasuallyinpantsandablousewithwhatappearedtobeacashmeresweater.“You’rewelcome.It’sRuth,correct?”“That’sit.RuthHorowitz.MayIcallyouDave?”“You can call me whatever you want, but Dave works for me. I feel like

we’vemetbefore.Ifeltitthefirstclassyouattended.”Smiling,shesaid,“Idon’tthinkso.I’drememberafacelikeyours.”Daveblushed,stilltryingtorecallwhysheseemedfamiliar.“I’msorry.You

live long enough and everyone looks familiar, I guess. Did you have aquestion?”“Yes.Thisismythirdclass.I’vecometonoticethatineveryclassyouslipin

littlegemsofwisdom.Ican’tseemtocategorizeit.”“Idon’treallycategorizeitmyself.Butsincemybackgroundisinphilosophy,

I’dhavetogowithphilosophyormetaphysicsifforcedtogiveitaname.”

“Attimesitsoundsalotlikethelawofattraction.”“Geez,Iguesssomeofitmightbe,butI’veneverbeenabigfanofthatterm.”“No?Whyisthat?”“Well,Ruth, I agreewith the true lawof attraction teachings. I just believe

thatafewteachingsonthesubjecthavemissedthebigpicture.”“Whatdoyouthinkthey’remissing,Dave?”“Iseetwocommonmisconceptions.Thefirstisthattheysuggestit’sallabout

manifesting material possessions, especially money. At least they neglectteaching that it’s aboutmore than those things. I believemoney andmaterialpossessions are a greatway to begin, but the laws of creativemanifesting areaboutconsciouslyusingour thoughts,words,andactions tocreatemuchmoreimportantthingsinlife.”“Like?”“Like inner peace, health, joy, loving relationships, a sustainable planet, a

futureforourchildren.Thesky’sthelimit.”“Andthesecondmisconception?”“ThesecondmisconceptionthatI’veseenfromafewmisguidedteachingsis

thattheysuggestpeopleareresponsiblefortheirownillnesses.”“Youmeanduetotheirthinking,asiftheyhaveattractedittothemselves?”Davenoddedwithoutspeaking.Ruthhadtoucheduponapetpeeveofhis,and

hewastryingtorefrainfromrantingaboutit.“Yes, I’ve noticed that some teachingswould leadone to believe that,” she

toldhim.“Comewithme,Ruth.”Dave grabbed awheelchair, hadRuth sit in it, and

wheeledhertotheelevator.Hetookhertothefourthfloor.Theywerelaughingtogetherwhen the elevator doors opened.Davewheeled her up to the nurserywindowwheretherewereeightnewbornsbeingattendedtobytwonurses.“Icomeuphereoftenbeforeclass,”hesaid.“I like to lookat thebabies to

raisemyvibration.”“Ohmygoodness!They’resocute.”“Thosetwointhecornerarenotwell.”Davepointedthemout.“ThereasonI

broughtyouhereistomakemypoint.Thesesickbabiesdidn’tmakethemselvessickbecausetheyhadnegativethoughts.Mostpeopledon’teither.”“Thatmakessensetome,”saidRuth.“There are a lot of reasonswhy people get sick, just like there are a lot of

reasonspeoplegetinjured.Idon’tthinkanyoneshouldbeindicatingtothesickorinjuredthattheyareresponsibleformakingthathappentothemselves.”“Sohowdoillnessesandinjuries,includingtragediesofallsortsthatcripple

orkillhumanbeings,fitintometaphysics,Dave?”

“Things will happen to us that we cannot control. Some tragedies andsuffering cannot be avoided.You can call it fate.You can call it being in thewrong place at thewrong time. It doesn’tmatterwhatwe call it.We have tosurrendertothefactthatbadthingsmighthappentousinourlives.Metaphysicsteachesustoacceptthistruthandunderstandthatthereisonlyonequestionwecan ask ourselves if something bad happens to us. Do you know what thatquestionis,Ruth?”“Iprobablydon’t.”“The only helpful question we can ask ourselves after something bad has

occurredisthis:givenmycurrentcircumstances,whatcanIthink,say,anddotomove forward in the best possible manner? And this is where the laws ofmetaphysicsempowerus.WhatcanIdointhisnewsituationtomakethemostofmynegativecircumstances?”Ruth turnedfromlookingat thebabies,cockedherhead toreflect,and then

looked at Dave. “So you’re saying that the laws ofmetaphysics help uswithwhatweareabletocontrol,whichisthepresentmoment,andnotwithwhatwecannotcontrol,whichiswhateverhashappenedinthepast.”Dave’s eyes lit up. “You said it a lot better than I did. It’s not that I don’t

believe that we can attract undesirable people, events, and circumstances intoourliveswithnegativethinking—Ido.Ithappensallthetime,whichiswhywemustbeconsciousaboutour thoughts.I’mjustsayingthatnoteverybadthingthathappenstousisaresultofourthoughts,words,oractions.Istillbelieveinfate.”“Fatebeingwhat,exactly?”“Well,that’sabigquestion,isn’tit?Letmejustsaythat,tome,Istillbelieve

in a higher power that knowswhat I came into this life to experience.And ifgettingillor injuredisgoingtoleadmetowardthatdestiny, thenwhoamI toquestionit?”“Soyoudon’tbelieve inaskingwhy.Whydid thishappen?Whyme?Why

now?”askedRuth.“Precisely. Why questions never lead to answers. More importantly, they

leave us facing backward, toward the past. People can ask why questions alltheir livesandnevermoveforward.What?Nowthat’sabetterquestion.Whatcan I do now to get better?What can I do now to improvemy life?What isneededinthissituationforgrowth,healing,love,andamorejoyfultomorrow?”Ruth stared at the babies while she listened. She touched Dave’s arm and

pointedtoonelittleboyshethoughtwasextracute.TheygawkedatthebabiesforamomentbeforeRuthturnedtoDavewithaquestion.“Iunderstandthisisyourphilosophy,andI’minterestedinit.However,how

doesmeditationfitintoallthis?Whatgotyouinterestedinityourself?”Davegrabbedthehandlestothewheelchairandwheeledhertotheelevator.

Hetalkedastheywaitedfortheelevatortoarrive.“You’reveryperceptive,Ruth.Tome,meditationishowIfocusonthewhat

questions.It’showIgetoutofmybusythoughts—myworriesandfears—andhowI focusonmydesires. Itcouldbeworkingwithamala,which isanotherformofmeditation tome. Itmightbepraying, alsomeditation.Or it couldbeanyofthemanywayswecanfocusonourintentions,ourdesires.Theseareallvariouswaysinwhichwemeditate.“Peoplethinkmeditationhastobesittinginfrontofanaltarwithlegscrossed

andpalmsuponourknees,but Iprefer to thinkofmeditationasamethodoffocus regardlessofhowmybody ispositioned. In thatway, Icanmeditateonthesubway,inlineatthecoffeeshop,inmydoctor’swaitingroom,andinoneofmyfavoriteplaces,thebathroom.”Dave laughed at his own joke. The elevator doors opened. Dave rolled the

wheelchairinside,andthenpushedthebuttonforthethirdfloor.“Butwhatmotivatedyou,personally,tobeginmeditating?”askedRuth.“Well, itwasn’t forhealth reasons,at leastnotdirectly. Itwasmore formy

mentalhealth.Iusedtobeabitofacontrolfreak.IbelievedthatinordertobesafeIneededtocontroleverylittlethinginmylife,especiallymywork.Istartedanadvertisingagencyinmyearlyfortiesthatquicklybecamesuccessful.BeforeIknewit, Iwasworkingfourteen-hourdaysandmicromanagingeverything.Itaffectedmymarriage,my relationshipwithmy son, evenmy friendships, andmybusinesspartnerwasreadytoclobberme.ForthefirsttimeinmylifeIhadmoney,buttherestofmylifewasinshambles.AndemotionallyIwasawreck.”Ruthchimedin.“Thenyoufoundmeditation?”“Through divine coincidence I found it. I went to a psychologist, hoping

counseling would settle my nerves, and in the first session the counselorsuggestedwalkingmethroughaguidedmeditation.Heuseda technique that Istillusetoday,whichis thesamemethodI teachhereat thehospital, inwhichyouvisualizerelaxingeverypartofyourbodyfromyourheadtoyourfeet.“When that psychologist told me to open my eyes at the end, I couldn’t

believe how calm I felt. I was so relaxed and peaceful that even he wassurprised.Hetoldmethathehadnevertrieditbeforewithanyotherpatient.Hewaslike,‘Wow,thisreallyworks!’Ilefthisofficeandsatinmycarforhalfanhourwishingthefeelingwouldnevergoaway.IknewthatonceIdroveintothecity traffic itwoulddisappear,and itdid.That’swhen Ibegandoing itonmyown.”“Andyou’vebeendoingiteversince?”askedRuth.

“That’sright,exceptforthosesixyearsaftermywifedied,thatItalkedaboutinthemeditationclass.However,thestorydoesn’tendthere.Itcalmedmymindsomuch that it justnaturally ledme tostopbeingsuchacontrol freak.That’swhenIarrangedwithmypartnerthatherunthecompanywhileItaughtatthecollege.SuddenlyIhadtwoincomesyetIwasworkinglessthanhalfthehours.Theadvertisingagencycontinuedtothrivewithoutmemicromanagingit,andIgottosharemypassionwitheageryoungminds.”“Philosophyandmetaphysics?”“That’sit.Itaughtforoveradecade,thenquitafterMargiepassed.”The elevator door opened, and Dave wheeled Ruth onto the third-floor

hallway.Shegotoutofthewheelchair.“Icantakeitfromhere,”shesaidasshestoodup.“Listen,Ifindallofthisfascinating.I’dreallyliketolearnmore.”“Youhaveaknackforknowingtherightquestionstoask,Ruth.I’mcurious

—areyouateacheryourself?”“Inasense,Iam.I’vebeenanexecutiveatacompanyinNewYorkCityfor

fortyyears.Ihelppeoplecommunicatetheirideasbetter.”“Nokidding.MysonisonhiswaytoNewYorkCityrightnow.He’sawriter

andisgoingtoseeapublisherabouthismanuscriptonthisverysubject.”“Didhelearnallheknowsfromyou?”“Someofit,buthe’sblessedtohavealotofwiseteachersaroundhim.”“I’dlovetoreaditonceit’spublished.Youdon’thappentohaveanybooks

onthissubjectIcanborrownow,doyou?I’mstuckinthishospitalforanotherfewdays,andyou’vepiquedmyinterest.”“I normally don’t keep anything with me. Let me see what I have.” Dave

walked into the nearbymeditation roomandRuth followed.Hepickeduphismessengerbagfromthecorneroftheroomandopenedit.“WhatareyoudoinginWorcesterifyouliveinNewYorkCity,ifyoudon’tmindmeasking?”“MyyoungersisterlivesnearbyinHoldenwithherhusbandandkids.Icome

asoftenasIcantoseethem.Ihadaminorstrokewhilevisiting.I’mokay.MydoctorjustkeptmetorunsometestsbeforeImakethedrivebackhome.”“That’sscary.I’mgladyou’reokay.”Daverifledthroughhismessengerbag.

“Oh, here yougo…”Hepulledout a stackof papers fromhis bag. “My songave me a copy of his manuscript to check his metaphysical teachings foraccuracy. It’s not finished, mind you. He hasn’t written an ending yet. But Idon’tthinkhe’dobjecttomelendingittoyou.Personally,Ithinkit’sterrific.Ofcourse,Imightbelittlebiased.I’dlovetohearwhatyouthinkaboutit.”Ruth took themanuscript and tucked it under her arm. She touchedDave’s

armagain.“I’mverygrateful. I’ll takegoodcareof it,promise.”Ruthwalkedaway.

“SoI’llseeyouinclasstomorrow?”Daveasked.Ruthwasalreadyintothehallwaywhensheyelled,“Seeyoutomorrow!”NursePaulawalkedintotheroomandwhisperedtoDave,“She’ssingle,you

know.”Helookedupatherwithasmirk.“Hmm,really?”PaulalefttheroomasDavegatheredhisbelongingsbeforeheadinghome.

ROBBYWOKEUPinhisNewYorkCityhotelroom.Heclimbedoutofbedandopenedthecurtains.Brrr,it’sfreezinginhere,hethought.Heturnedofftheairconditioner,turnedontheheater,andfoundalushbathrobeinthecloset.Helookedoutatthecityandtookadeepbreath.“It’sgoingtobeagreatday,”heaffirmedaloud.Thesunwasalreadyshiningbrightly.Hisinstinctwastoworkwithhismala,

whichremindedhimthathe’dlostit.Heimmediatelyfeltasenseofdoomcomeoverhim.Tocounterthis,hebeganthinkingaboutwhathismotherhadtaughthiminhisdreamatthehospital.Itwasneverthemala.Itwasalwaysme.I’vealwayshadthepowerofcreating.Themalawastheteacherandthetool.Iamthe beacon that communicates to the Universe, and the receiver that paysattention to its guidance. It is Iwho is at onewith everything, includingGod.ThemalaismerelyhowIdiscoveredit.Robbyfeltrelaxedandempoweredbyhisnewrealization.Hesatinachairinfront

ofthewall-sizedwindowwherethesunshoneinonhim.Hesatquietly,focusingoneachbreath, justashisfather taughthim.Witheveryinhalation,he imaginedfillinghis lungs and body with the light of divine love. With every exhalation, heimaginedreleasingtoxinsandnegativity.Hecontinueddoingthisuntilhisbodyfeltrelaxedandlight.Thenhevisualizedwhathewantedtocreate.Robby saw himself sitting on the steps of the buildingwhere the offices of the

publishing company were located. He imagined himself feeling happy and excitedwhile

talkingtoMaryonthephoneabouthisnewbookcontract.Hevisualizedtellingher that his advancewas enoughmoney towrite his next book and that theyabsolutelylovedhismanuscript.Robbyfeltsomuchemotioninhisheartashelivedthroughtheexperienceof

his joyfulvisualization thathe felt complete relief fromhisanxiety.Hesatonthechairinhishotelroomforseveralminutesastearsrolleddownhischeeks.Thentherewasaknockatthedoor.“Roomservice!”He’dforgottenhehadorderedbreakfastbeforegoingtobed.Robbywipedhis

tears,answeredthedoor,andretrievedhisfood.Hewassurprisedtolearnhowlong he’d been sitting in his visualization.He quickly ate, took a shower, gotdressed,andpackedhissuitcaseinordertomeetMattoutsidethehotelatnineo’clock.Mattwas inhis typicalchippermoodwhenRobby threwhis suitcase in the

trunkandjumpedintothepassenger’sseat.“Goodmorning,Babyface!”saidMatt.Robbythoughttohimself,Babyface?NotButtholeorFartbreath?“Good morning, Matt. You’re being especially kind this morning. What’s

up?”“Ah,it’sabigdayforyou.Iwanttobegentle.Areyouprepared?”“I am.Youknow, Iusedvisualization thismorning. Itwas reallypowerful.

Timedisappearedonme,andIfeltincrediblewhenIwasdone.Heck,Istillfeelincredible.”“Yeah,it’ssmarttoalwayssetanalarmwhendoingsomethinglikethat.I’ve

beenlatemorethanoncebecauseofgettinglostinmeditation.”“Howaboutyou?Areyoulookingforwardtotheconvention?”Robbyasked

Matt.“Youbet.IhavealistofthingsI’mlookingtofindformyclients.IfIcanfind

them,I’llmakeaprofitwithinaweek—agoodprofit,too.”“IfIknowyou,Matt,you’llfindwhatyou’relookingfor.”Mattsmiled.“Lookatyou,allhappythismorning.Well,goodthing,’cause

here’syouraddress.”Robby’sheart jumpedintohis throat.Themenwishedoneanother luckand

Robby hopped out. Matt started to drive away and then quickly stopped. Heopenedthepassenger-sidewindow.Robbywalkeduptothewindow.“Dude,”saidMatt,“whowasit thatsaid,‘Youmissonehundredpercentof

theshotsyoudon’ttake?’”“WayneGretzky,why?”Matt threw Robby the hockey puck Gretzky had signed for him as a boy.

Robbyhelditinhishands,shockedandconfused.“Oh please—did you really think I’d sell it on you,man?You can payme

back when you get the big advance. The photo is back at the store. Oh, andrememberthatquote!”Robby stood there with his mouth open, holding the puck as Matt zipped

away. He looked at Gretzky’s signature and thought about all that had takenplacesincehesoldthepucktoMatt.Heputthepuckinhispocketandwalkedtowardthemassivegranitestairwayatthefrontofthebuilding.He climbed the front steps and entered a large ornate lobby through a

revolving door. Inside, the sounds of people walking and talking echoed offgranite-tiled walls and floor-to-ceiling windows. All the trim was made ofcarvedwoodpaintedshinygold.Thelobbyceilingmusthavebeentwenty-fivefeethigh.Straightaheadwasan informationcounterandsecuritydesk.Robbywalked

uptothesharplydressedmanbehinditwhosesizealonecommandedrespect.“IhaveanappointmentatIrvingandKittredgePublishing,”hesaid.“Doyouknowwhatfloorit’son?”“Sure,” the man said in a deep voice that matched his body size. “The

eighteenthfloor.Youcan’tmissitoncethedoorsopen.”Robby’sbreathinggotdeeperwitheveryfloortheelevatorreached.Whenthe

doors opened to the eighteenth floor, he felt woozy. There was an antiquemahoganydeskstraightahead.“Irving&KittredgePublishing”wasaffixed inlargepewter letterson thewallbehind it.Abrunette inher twenties sat at thedesk answering phones and switching callers to the appropriate lines. “Can Ihelpyou?”sheaskedRobbywithasmile thatcouldhavebeen ina toothpastecommercial.“I’mheretomeetSeanSimonattenthirty.MynameisRobbyRobinson.”He

realizedhowbothnameshadadoubleletter—SSandRR.Littlethingslikethatalwaysamusedhim.Helookedathiswatchtoseeitwasquarterpastten.“Wouldyoulikesomecoffeeortea?”thereceptionistasked.Robby was about to say no when a youngman walked around the corner.

“Robby?”Robby looked over to see a man who appeared to be in his late twenties

dressedinbluejeans,awhiteshirt,notie,andwhiteConversesneakers.Robbywonderedifhehadoverdressed.“Yes?”heanswered.“I’mSeanSimon.Pleasedtomeetyou.”Thetwomenshookhands,andSean

led Robby down a long hall with offices on either side. Every office wasfurnisheddifferently,many clutteredwith books andmanuscripts, unlikewhatRobbyhadexpected.Theentireofficesmelledlikealibrary.Seanwalkedintoa

conferenceroomwithanoval table thathadabout ten leatherchairsaround it.Moremanuscriptswerepiledonthewindowsills.SeansatinthechairattheendofthetableandmotionedforRobbytositaroundthecornertohisleft.Secondslater, a woman in her forties wearing a peach-colored pantsuit and matchingheelswalked in. Robby stood up out of respect until she sat down across thetablefromhimontheoppositesideofSean.“ThisisLoriCromwell,”Seantoldhim.“She’soneofourtopeditors.”Thetwoshookhandsoverthetable.“I’m going to let Lori begin.We’ve both read your book proposal, but she

readtheentireunfinishedmanuscriptyousent.”Robbytookadeepbreath,tryingnottorevealhisnerves.Therelaxedfeeling

he’dexperiencedafterhismeditationwasnowgone.“Didanyoneofferyouadrink—water,coffee,tea?”Loriasked.“Yes,thereceptionist.ButI’mfinewithoutabeverage,thankyou.”“Allrightthen,letmebeginbysayingthatthebookyouwroteforSamuelis

wonderful.Weonlywishmostofthebookswepublishherewereinhalfasgoodshapewhenwegetthem.”“Thankyou.That’skindofyou.”“And I’ve read the two you wrote for other authors that hit theNew York

TimesBestsellerList.Didyourclientscontributetothewritingofthosebooks?”“No.Iinterviewedthemabouttheirideas,butIdidallthewriting.”“Well,then,yourwritingspeaksforitself.”Robbynodded,waiting patiently for her tomove on to hismanuscript. She

pulledthemanuscriptoutfromapileofpapersshehadplacedontheconferencetableandpositioneditinfrontofher.“Areyounervous?”sheaskedhim.“Sure,whowouldn’tbe,right?”“You shouldn’t be. This book could easily become a bestseller. I love the

story, the characterswerewell developed, and thedialoguedefinitelykeptmeengaged.Iwasdrawnintothestoryasmuchastheteachings.Ifwepublishit,we’llhavetofindanothertitle,butthat’susuallyparforthecourse.Yourtitle,TheEviction,istoonegative.”Robbyswallowed.Hewasn’tsurprisedaboutthemwantingatitlechange.“It

wasjustaworkingtitle.Pickingagreat title isalwaysthehardestpartforme.I’mjusthappytohearthatyoulikethemanuscriptitself.”“Idid.AndIwasn’ttheonlyone.IloveditsomuchthatIaskedoureditor-in-

chiefandsomeoneinourmarketingdepartmenttoreadit,andtheybothagreedwithme.”Sean piped in. “The editor-in-chief almost never reads a manuscript unless

we’resurewewantit.”Everyonepaused.Robbywas frozen inanticipation.Loripulledout another

paperfromherstackandsliditacrossthetabletoRobby.“SoIhavegreatnewsforyou.Wewouldlovetopublishyourbook,andthisiswhatwe’repreparedtogiveyouforanadvance.Granted,wewouldgiveyouhalfupfrontandtheotherhalf once the final edits are made. But I’m sure you understand how all thatworks.”Robbywasalreadycelebratinginhishead.He’dheardaboutstorieslikethis,

offirst-timeauthorswhogothundredsof thousandsforanadvance.HetookadeepbreathandlookedatthesheetofpaperLorihadslidinfrontofhim.The first—the only—number he saw on the paper was fifteen thousand

dollars.Hewas sure hewasmissing something.He looked at it again.Nope.Thatwas theiroffer.Theybuiltmeup, toldmemywriting iswonderful, that Ihave a possible bestseller, that the editor-in-chief loved it, but their offer is afractionofwhatIgetforghostwritingbooks,hethoughttohimself.“You’reofferingmefifteenthousand?”heasked,hopinghewasmistaken.“Youdon’t seempleased,”Lori responded. “The fact thatwe’re offering to

publish your book at all is something to be excited about. This is your debutbook.Wefeelthatfifteenthousandisagenerousoffer.”Robbyfeltdeflatedandconfused.“YougaveSamuelmorethansixtimesthis

amountandhe’sneverhadabookpublishedeither.”Heregrettedsayingthisthemomentthewordslefthismouth.Hedidn’tevenreallyknowexactlyhowmuchSamuelgot,andhenevershouldhavetriedtousehimforleverage.“Samuelhasaplatform,Robby,”Loricalmlyexplained.“Doyouknowwhat

amarketingplatformis?”“Yes,basicallyanexistingaudiencewhowillwanttoreadmybook.Butdoes

aplatformreallymatterwithfiction?”“Tousitdoes,”shesaidgently.“Yourbookisfiction,butitwillbemarketed

morelikeanonfictionbook.It’smoreofapersonalimprovementbookthanitisa novel. For example, we’ve already sold nearly five thousand copies ofSamuel’s bookon preorder just because he announced his soon-to-be releasedbooktohisemaillistandsocialmediafollowers.”Lori leanedherheaddown intoRobby’sviewbecausehewasstaringat the

conferencetable.“Doyouhavealarge,fan-basedemaillist?”sheaskedsoftly.“No,”heanswered.“Doyouhavetensofthousandsoffansfollowingyouonsocialmedia?”“No.”“Do you speak publicly, are you on television or radio, or do you have a

popularpodcast?”

“No.”Robbyhad intendedonnegotiating inaneffort tomaybegetahigheroffer,

but Lori’s questions made him realize he had no leverage whatsoever. Hewanted towalkoutand tell themwhere theycouldput theiroffer,buthealsorealizedthatitmightbethebestofferhecouldget.Afterall,everythingshesaidabouthimnothavingaplatformwasaccurate.Herealizedheshouldhavegottenaliteraryagentbeforeapproachingapublisher.Hehumbledhimselfinspiteofhisgravedisappointment.“I’m glad you like my book. I was hoping for more, obviously. Still, I’m

grateful for your offer. It’s actually quite generous considering it’s my firstbook.”“If this book sells as well as we expect it will, you’ll have no problem

increasingtheadvanceonyournextbook,”Loriadded.“Anddon’tforget,we’reonlytalkingabouttheadvancehere.Ifthebooksellswellandearnsmorethantheadvance,youwillearnmorewhetherwepayitupfrontorlater.”“ExceptthatI’llneedtocontinueghostwritingtopaythebills,whichdoesn’t

allowmetimetowriteanotherbookofmyown.That’sthebigissueforme.”LorilookedatSeanandthenbackatRobby.“Howmuchwouldyouneedfor

anadvancetopayyourbills?”“Well,Itypicallygetseventy-fivethousanddollarsforeachghostwritingjob.”“Plusapercentageoftheearnings?”sheasked.“No,Ijustchargeaflatfee.”“Robby, you could have been charging a fee plus fifteen percent of the

earnings,atleast.Thosetwobestsellerswouldhaveearnedyouabundle.”Robbyhadweighedtheprosandconsofchargingapercentageinadditionto

hisfeeyearsearlierbuthaddecidedtheflatfeewaslesscomplicatedforhim.Hehadneverexpectedthattwoofhisprojectswouldbecomebestsellers.“Well,Iknowthatnow.Imighthavemadeapoorbusinesschoiceinthepast,

butthat’snotwhat’sinquestionrightnow,isit?Rightnowwe’retalkingaboutmywriting,andthat,asyouhavepointedout, iswheremytalent lies.Doyouthinkyoucanyoudobetteronyouroffer?”“We’vealreadyhadabigmeetingonthesubject,”saidLori.“I’mafraidthe

offer stands as it is. We were expecting you to be happy about it. I’mdisappointedthatyouaren’t.”Robby sat up straight and consciously raisedhis energy a little. “I’d like to

talkwithmywifeaboutthis.”Lorigrabbedamanilaenvelopefromherstackofpapersandhandedittohim.

“Ofcourse.Here’sthecontractwe’reoffering.Takeithome.Thinkitoverwithyourwife.Thenletusknow.Ifyoudecidetosignitbeforetheendofthemonth,

wemight be able to release it next summer or fall. I only found a handful ofedits. I’m sure whatever you write for a final chapter will be just as wellwritten.”Lori stood up, and Sean followed her lead. She shookRobby’s handwhile

saying goodbye and exited the conference room. Sean waited for Robby togatherhisthingsandwalkedhimtotheelevators.RobbythankedhimonemoretimebeforeSeanlookedathiswatchandscurriedoff.Robbywashappy togetoutside thebuilding.The sunwasnowhigh in the

sky,andthelonggranitestairwaystretchingfromwherehestoodtothesidewalkbelowlookedmajestic.Hesawaspotonthestairwayofftooneside,awayfromfoottraffic,thatlookedinviting.Hecouldseeahazecomingoffthegraniteduetothesun’sheat.Hewasfeelingcoldthroughouthiswholebody,sohewalkedover to that area and sat on the steps. The warmth from the granite instantlysoothedhim.Robbylookedupatthesuntoexposehisfacetoitsheat.Hefeltlikesuchafool.Hewasprettysurehehadembarrassedhimselfback

intheconferenceroom.Ireallysetmyselfupfordisappointment,hethoughttohimself.Allthatintentionwork…allthosedaysIchantedmymantrawithmymala thinking about thismoment… even the visualization I did thismorning,cryingtomyselfinmyimaginedoutcome…itsuredidn’tlookanythinglikethis.AtleastInowhavemybook’sending.Robby’s attention was drawn toward a person who had come out of the

buildingandwaswalkingdownthestairs.Shewasaboutfifteenfeetawaywhenhecaughtaglimpseofherfromtheside.Shewasapetiteblondwoman,alittleyounger thanhe, and shewasvery lightonher feet.She seemed to skip fromsteptostep.Ohmygod,thatlookslikeTru,hethoughttohimself.Noway!Itcan’tbe.She

wasnowpasthimandalreadythree-quartersofthewaydownthestairstowardthestreet.Hestooduptogetabetterlook,butallhecouldseewasthebackofher.Still,thewayshemoved,herlightnessofbeing,wasjustlikeTru.Whenshereachedthestreet,ataxicabpulleduptoher.Robbyyelledasloudashecould,“Tru!Truth!Truth!”Sheturnedtolooktowardtheyelling,asdidseveralotherpeople.Thenshegotintothecab.That’sher!Ithink.Itsurelookedlikeher.Thecab’sdoorclosed,andthetaxidroveaway.Ohno,no,no.NowI’llneverknow.Robbywatchedthetaxidrivedownthestreetandaroundthecorner.Hetook

adeepbreathandsatbackdownonthestairway.Hischestwaspounding.CouldthatreallyhavebeenTru?hewondered.Whatkindofcrazycoincidencewouldbringherheretothiscity,onthisstairway,atthismoment?HeranhishandsthroughhishairandthoughtabouthisconversationwithTru

at the library.Herecognizedhewasfeelingsorryforhimself.Heremembered

Trutellinghim,“Whatwefocusuponexpands.Ifyouthinkhappythoughts,youattract happy people and circumstances into your life. If you think unhappythoughts,youattractunhappypeopleandcircumstances intoyour life.”Robbymadeaconsciousefforttofocusonthepresentmomentandallthatwasgood.He could feel the warmth of the sun as he sat on the magnificent granite

stairway.HeheldthemanilaenvelopefromLoriCromwellinfrontofhimwhileleaning his arms on his knees. He thought,Thank you for the blessings. Thisbookcontract isawonderfulsteppingstone toward the futurewritingcareer Idesire. The advance, however modest, is a gift of abundance. After all, I’vealmostwrittenthebookinitsentirety.Moreimportantly,MaryandIarehappy,healthy,able topayourbills,and living inabeautifulhome.Andwearenowbothonthepathtohavingcareerswherewecanuseourtalentscreatively,evenifIhavetoghostwriteonemorebook.Wearetrulyblessed,andIamgrateful.Robbyfelthiscellphonebuzz,signalinghehadavoicemail.Heremembered

hehadshuttheringeroffpriortohismeeting.HelookedathisphoneexpectingtoseeamessagefromMary,butitwashisfatherwhohadcalled.Helistenedtothevoicemail.“Robby,it’sDad.Callmeback.It’simportant.”RobbydialedDave’scellnumber.“Hey,Robby.Thanksforcallingmeback.”“Sure,Dad.Yousaidit’simportant.Iseverythingallright?”“Oh sure. I wanted to talk to you before I left the hospital. I just had my

meditationclass,andIhaveapatientherewhowouldliketotalktoyou.”“Oh,Dad,now’snotagoodtime,Ihave…”Davedidn’tlisten.“Heresheis,son.HernameisRuth.”Robbysighed.“Hi,Robby.MynameisRuthHorowitz.Thanksfortakingmycall.”“Sure,Ms.Horowitz.Nicetomeetyou.”Robbystillcalledanyoneoverfifty

Mr.orMs.“Listen,Robby,Ihaveaconfessiontomake.I’mgettingsometestsdonehere

atthehospital,whichishowImetyourfather.I’minhismeditationclass.Heand I got to chatting yesterday, and I talked him into letting me read yourmanuscript.Ireaditfromcovertocoverlastnight.Can’tsleeparoundhere,soIwashappytohavesomethingtoread.”Robbycouldn’tbelievewhathewashearing.Myfatherlentmyunpublished

manuscripttosomeone?Areyoukiddingmenow,Dad?Heplannedtoscoldhisfatherthesecondhegotthisladyoffthephone.Ruthcontinued.“Totellyouthetruth,Robby,Icouldn’tputitdown.Allthis

metaphysical insight is new tome, so Iwas like a sponge inwater.You’re a

wonderfulteacher.Moreimportantly,Ilikeyourwritingstyle.”“Thankyou,Ms.Horowitz.Iappreciatethat.”“Ireallyfellinlovewiththestoryanditscharacters.Iknowthatit’sfictional,

butIassumeit’sbasedonrealeventsfromyourlife?”“Yes.Yesitis.”“And you’re a goodwriter, which is why I wanted to talk with you. Your

fathertellsmeyou’remeetingwithapublishertoday.”Great. Dad told her my whole life story, he thought. “That’s true,” Robby

said. He wasn’t ready to talk about the meeting, so he didn’t say anythingfurther.“Well, Robby, I happen to be an executive editor with a major publishing

companymyself,CarnegieandHaywardPress.Doyouknowit?”“Ohyes.Icertainlydo.”“Well,Ihaveenoughcloutatthispointtobuyabooknowandthenwithout

needing anyone else’s approval, and I’m prepared tomake you an offer rightnowbeforeyousignacontractwithanothercompany.”Robbydidn’tlethimselfgettooexcited.Hehopedmaybeshewouldoffera

littlemorethanfifteenthousanddollars,buthewastooexhaustedemotionallyatthispointtocaremucheitherway.“I’m prepared to offer you a two-book contract for one hundred thousand

dollars.”Robbywasstunned.Hewasn’tsureheheardhercorrectly,soheaskedRuth

torepeatherself.“I’msorry.Couldyousaythatagain?”“I said I’m prepared to offer you a two-book contract for one hundred

thousanddollars.”Shereallydidsaythat,hethoughttohimself.Hebegantofeelexcited,buthe

wasn’tsurehowtorespondtoher.Mary’svoicerang inhishead tonegotiate.“Ms. Horowitz, I’m very grateful for your generous offer. How about onehundred thousand for this book with the right of first refusal on my secondbook?”Ruthpaused.“Tobehonest,Robby,Idon’thavetheauthoritytooffermore

than seventy-five thousand for anyone book.So I’ll either offer you seventy-fivethousandforthisbookaloneoronehundredforthisoneandyournextone.It’syourchoice.”Robbywasgladhewassittingdown.Hefeltunsteady.“Ihaveagoodfeelingaboutthisbook,Ms.Horowitz.Won’tIgetalotmore

onmysecondbookifthisfirstbookdoeswell?”“IfitdoesaswellasIexpectitcan,you’llgetalotmore.”“Okaythen,Iacceptyourofferfortheone-bookcontract.”

“Ilikeyourconfidence,Robby.Iwouldhavedonethesame.CanyougettotheAvenueoftheAmericastoday?Icanhaveacontractwaitingforyou,whichisveryunusual—youprobablyknow.Ijustreallywanttopublishyourbook.”“Well,IsettheintentionthatmypublisherwouldlovethebookasmuchasI

do.So,yes!Icanheadtherenow.”“Ihaveyourcellnumberhere.I’lltextyoutheexactaddress.Givemeanhour

orso.Gohavelunchsomewhere.Askformyassistant,CourtneyJohnson.She’llhaveeverythingreadyforyou.Let’ssay,afteroneo’clock?”“Thanks,Ms.Horowitz.Afteroneisfine.”“Onelastthing,Robby.Aboutthetitle…”“Yes,”heresponded,“Ihaveabetterone.”“Whatisit?”sheasked.“TheMagicMala.”“Ohthat’sperfect.Okay,Robby.We’llbeintouchsoon.”“Thankyou,Ms.Horowitz.Goodbye.”Robby hung up, his entire body quivering. He was so happy he wanted to

screamout loud.He immediatelycalledMarywhowasanxiouslyawaitinghiscall.Hetoldherthestoryofthemorning’seventsandgaveherthegoodnewsashesatonthestairway.Theycriedtogetherinjoyandcelebratedthemomentbyphone.Whenheeventuallyhungup,Robbysatonthestepsalittlelongertotakeinthemoment.Betweenpossibly seeingTru,Ruth’s call, the sun’s rays, and thehaze from

theheatonthegranitesteps,everythingfeltoddlysurrealtohim.Allthesoundsofthecityfellfaroffintothedistance,andRobbylookedintotheskywonderingif hismotherwas able towitness his accomplishment fromwherever shewasnow.Ashelookedintotheclouds,hesawsomethingintheskyabovehim.Itwasa

tinydarkspot,butitseemedtobemovingtowardhim.Itappearedtobealmostweightless, like it was floating. But it was unquestionably floating in hisdirection.Awoman and amanwalking up the stairs sawRobby looking up, so they

lookedup,too.Theyweren’tsurewhathewaslookingat,sotheymovedclosertohim.“Iseeit!”saidtheman.“Whatdoyouthinkitis?”“Yeah,whatisthat?”thewomanfollowed.Robby didn’t answer. He just stared at the object above him.Other people

walking on the stairs began to notice the three looking into the sky, and theylookedup,too.Sevenpeoplewerenowwatchingthisobjectfalling.Robbycuppedhishands,thinkinghemighttrytocatchwhateveritwas,but

no effort was necessary. The breeze carried it directly to him until it gentlylandedinsidehiscuppedpalms.Whenhesawit,Robbybecameweak.“Whatisit?”askedtheman.“Yeah,whatisit?”thewomanrepeated.Robbyhelditinhispalmsashestaredatitinawe.“It’sacrow’sfeather,”hesaid.Hewhisperedtohimself,“…aboutthreeincheslong…withastreakofwhite

atthetop.”

BOBOLSON, author of the nonfiction title,Answers about the Afterlife, hasforayed into fiction for this newest book,TheMagicMala.He is a storytellerwho aims to inspire readers to improve themselves, follow their passions, andmaketheworldabetterplace.WhenBob’snotwriting, teaching,orcreatinganewpodcastepisode,you’ll

findhimwithMelissa,hiswifeofmore than thirtyyears,kayaking,bicycling,sightseeing on their Vespa, or eating dinner on their porch with friends andfamilymembers.TheyliveinsouthernMainewiththeirbeloveddog,Libby.Tofurtheryourunderstandingoftheideaspresentedinthisbook,theauthor

teachesanonlinecourseonthebook’swebsite.YoucanalsolearnaboutBob’spodcast and purchase your own magic mala byvisiting:www.TheMagicMala.com.

IFYOUENJOYEDthisstory,oriftheteachingsinspiredyou,recommendingthisbooktofriends—orbuyingthemacopyasagift—isagenerousandlovingwaytosharethemagic.Everyoneremembersthepersonwhorecommendedtoher,orgiftedhim,thebookthatchangedhisorherlifeforthebetter.

THEMAGICMALA is the perfect book to discuss in book clubs or groupsbecause it helps readers integrate the teachings during their discussions. Andwhileyouarefocusedonthemagicalpossibilitiesoflife,theUniverserespondstoyourfocuswithmoremagic.It’salsofuntorecognizeandtalkaboutyourownstoriesrelatedtothebook,

such as incidents ofmessengers, coincidence, divine events, intentions, or theresultsofyourownthoughts,wordsandactions.Ifyoudon’tbelongtoabookclub,createyourownbyaskingyourfriendstomeetonceaweek.It’snotonlyalotoffun;it’sagreatwaytokeepthemagicofthisstorygoing.

ANSWERSABOUTTHEAFTERLIFE

APrivateInvestigator’s15-YearResearchUnlocksTheMysteriesofLifeAfterDeathwww.AnswersAboutTheAfterlife.com

BESTPSYCHICDIRECTORY

An online directory of over 800 psychics andmediums carefully vetted byprivateinvestigator,BobOlson.

www.BestPsychicDirectory.com

AFTERLIFETVWITHBOBOLSON

Research, stories and questions answered about life after death, near-deathexperiences,pastlives,after-deathcommunications,dreamvisitations,deathbedvisions,andmore.HostedbyBobOlson.

www.AfterlifeTV.com

THEAUTHOR offersanonlinecourse thathelpsyou tounderstand&applythelife-changingteachingsinTheMagicMala!

Thiscourse,taughtbytheauthor,furtherdemonstrates…

Thepowerofyourthoughts,words,andactionsSettingintentionstotransformyourlifeCreatingpowerfulmantrasthatreallyworkWhyunderstandingattentionvs.intentionisnecessaryAlternativetoolstothemalayoumightpreferRecognizingguidingsignalsfromtheUniverseHowtoidentifybeliefsthatareholdingyoubackTheonebeliefthatblocksmostpeople’sattemptstochangeHowtostopfeelinglikeavictimSimplewaystofilterthenegativitythatmakesyoumiserableHowtogetandexpectmagicinyourlifeThe40-daycommitmenttobeginchangingyourlifetodayMuch,muchmore

Tolearnmoreaboutthiscourse,visit…

www.TheMagicMala.com

*DownloadaFREEPDFof“TheTop5MantrastoUsewithYourMala”(onwebsite)