The Wild Place
Thursday, April 29th, 2010I have three Twitter accounts. Or rather, I have two—one for my writer self and one for my law of attraction self, and Ducky has one. Ducky’s account is the one that has grown the fastest. In just a few weeks, she’s up to 240 or so followers. Of my other two accounts, both of which are fledglings, the law of attraction account is moving at three times the speed. I have seventy-some followers, and all but a handful are trying to sell me something.
Like I said the other day in One Small Squeak For Humankind, it seems like most of the world’s population is selling something related to the law of attraction. All these Twitter followers who want me to pay for their coaching or e-books or seminars, and all the authors of the multiple law of attraction books and blogs that I’ve read have something in common. They’re people who have, or at least claim to have, used the law of attraction to make grand changes in their lives. These people say they’ve taken Abraham-Hicks’ teachings or the information in The Secret and they’ve run with it. It’s changed their lives. They’re success stories, and they’re clamoring to help everyone else be success stories too.
And here I am.
One small voice in the middle of a raging storm.
A couple years ago, I thought I was one of those success stories. I had created a bunch of wonderful things in my life—finding my loving husband, Tim; getting three books published; losing a bunch of weight; inheriting money. I got this law of attraction stuff, so I wrote about it and sold a short e-book about it for a time.
Then the winds rose and the torrents descended. Life slammed me with injuries—Tim’s and mine, career disappointment, weight problems, and a huge financial crisis.
On the sliding scale of life messiness, with 10 being the most together and 1 being total disaster, I’m hovering around a 3. It’s gusty around here. The hail stings and threatens to blind my visions of a happy future. The gale’s shriek nearly deafens me.
Who am I to write a blog about law of attraction?
The Woman Wears Gor-Tex®
The last couple days, literal wind and rain have blasted through my town in a succession of squalls that darken the sky and rattle the windows. Each day, Ducky and I have headed to the bay side of town and walked on the beach in the storms.
I’m one of the few crazies in the world who actually likes walking on stormy days. My last dog, Muggins, and I (a long time ago, I traded power suits for Gor-Tex® raingear) walked in 40 plus m.p.h winds and heavy downpours regularly. When I had my accident and Tim had to take over walking Muggins for several months, he couldn’t stand the stormy weather. He’s a wussy walker. He started taking her to the nearby woods trails, where the forest sheltered them from the worst of the elements. (Note—Tim says he’s not wussy; he’s smart.)
I found all of my greatest treasures on Muggins’ and my stormy walks. Every one of the glass floats I have appeared on the beach during or right after a storm. And the rainbows? I’ve seen some mind-blowing rainbows, the kind that are so vibrant and vivid—sleek streaks of color against a black sky—that they seem to stop time.

Photo by Bùi Linh Ngân
I’ve seen a dozen such rainbows on the beach in the last couple days. Those rainbows reminded me of the extraordinary power of where I am in my life right now.
Desire’s Pull
Abraham-Hicks say that when you have strong, strong desire, the pull of that desire, the speed of the stream of energy that is moving toward what you want, is so fast that when you resist it, you’re going to get beat up. And they say that when you start attempting to activate your vibration purposefully to attract something into your life, you will, as a matter of course, activate the opposite as well. Things can become a big mess for awhile.
Someone with puny desires and no intention to align can putt along nicely in a mediocre place and look, from the outside, like everything is just fine. This person can have enough money and a decent job and an okay relationship. But joy? Most people like this are missing joy.
People like me who have HUGE wants and even bigger intention to have those wants tend to trash our lives before we get it together and line up with all we desire. But joy? We have joy. We have stunning pockets of it, like the swaths of blue that appear like a divine magic trick from the wall of blackened sky when squalls pass by and expose the sun.
This is the wild place, the disjointed, cacophonous place from which amazing things can happen. This is the place where I’m living now.
Gratitude For The Wild Things
In 1995, my first husband and I separated for two months, and I rented a cottage by the ocean in Cannon Beach, Oregon. I spent the time writing and taking long stormy walks with Muggins. I also wandered the art galleries. One day, I found a print by Bev Doolittle called “Prayer For The Wild Things.” I almost bought it but for some reason didn’t (money wasn’t an issue then, so I could have). I wish I had. The print captures for me the essence of life at its most powerful: a gnarled tree, ragged rocks, a dark sky, and hidden deftly within it all, created by the subtle strokes that are Bev Doolittle’s genius, dozens of animal spirits.
The print means even more to me now than it did when I first saw it. The animal spirits, I think, are our desires—right there in front of us but hidden from our physical ability to see them. The rugged landscape is the “what is” of a reality created by resistance vibrations.
Of course we don’t have to create wild messes like I have. We were meant to come forth into joy and use contrast to lead us to more and more joy. But most of us have let society and our “what is” circumstance get us out of alignment. We’re in the wild place.
What we need to remember is the wild place is a powerful place. It’s the place where contrast is SO huge that our vision of our desires becomes crystal clear. When we’re in this place, the smallest shift in vibrational focus can have the most incredible impact. To use Abraham-Hicks’ analogy, the energy stream is moving fast, and when we align and turn our boat to go with the stream, we shoot toward what we desire, with no effort on our part at all, with astounding speed.
So that’s who I am. I am a powerful woman who by virtue of a little misuse of that power created a storm where the wild things live. I write from what is and what will be. I write from gratitude for the storm that has gathered around me because I rejoice in the beauty of the rainbows forming on my horizon.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell you the story of a man who turned his personal storm into not just an amazing rainbow but the pot of gold at the end of it as well.
Say a prayer of thanks for the wild things. They come bearing gifts.

The graphic visual spotlighted how much my thoughts go up and down, up and down, up and down. Just in the short five-minute drive from our house to the forest where I walk Ducky, for instance, I watched my thoughts do something like this:
