Lots of times, law of attraction believers talk about the importance of inspired action–and there is good reason for that. Jane Roberts, the woman who back in the 1970s channeled the spirit entity who called himself Seth, wrote about this idea a lot. The subconscious, she said, is where all the work gets done, while the role of the mind is to be still and wait for instruction.
I like this idea a lot, of course; who doesn’t want the Universe to give them personalized, detailed advice? Which is why it was so exciting to me when recently I saw the principle at work.
Here’s the story: I have two children, and one is almost brand new. Since the other is only two and a half, it made sense for a dedicated walker like me to buy a stroller that could hold them both; it’s one of the first and only purchases I considered for the new baby when pregnant.
And yet, I did not buy a stroller.
I can’t say exactly why I didn’t. I knew it was necessary. I knew if I wanted to get a good used one, I probably shouldn’t wait till the last minute. But it wasn’t until one fine spring afternoon about a month before the baby was born, following a trailside near-breakdown of my rickety old thrift store contraption that, during a conversation with a friend at the playground, it hit me: “I want to buy a double stroller–and I want to buy one right now.”
The desire really did feel inspired.
That night, I shopped around online, ready to hit the “buy” button at any moment . . . but nothing was calling my name. Nothing, that is, except The One–the $600 double stroller straight from heaven. With no real desire to buy it new, and realizing I’d probably find a used one nearly as good for pretty cheap, I decided to hit a thrift store soon and settle on anything that was similar.
Two days later, while out with my son, I was intrigued to see the exact stroller I had lusted after, sitting outside a McDonald’s restroom. In true motherly fashion, I complimented the owner, struggling to wash three sets of hands, on her tasteful choice of transportation.
“You wouldn’t be interested in selling it, would you?” I asked–and when she answered I knew God had spoken.
“Actually, I do plan to sell it. Are you interested?”
$175 and a park date later, I brought my old stroller to the thrift store from which I’d bought it three years back.
As I handed it over to the attendant, I didn’t even feel sentimental.
I had the smooth-riding luxury SUV of strollers now . . . and I still thank God for it every time I take a walk.
Babies come. But babies don't go. Get Fights You’ll Have After Having a Baby: A Self-Help Story on Amazon now.