I walked out of class tonight, feeling invigorated despite the fact that all I had eaten for dinner had been one round, red wax-enrobed sphere of Laughing Cow cheese and the dreges of a box of faux-Triscuits. Class had been good, and had confirmed for me the choice of program and school once again.
Earlier in the evening, I had not been feeling so good. I sat in the waiting room of my garage, stressed and anxious over the fact the line was long and I had exactly 45 minutes in which to get from Center City to St. Joe’s. As I compulsively spun that mini-wheel of cheese around in my hand, I realized that I needed to change the energy I was putting out into the world about the wait for the car.
So instead of sending agita and angst out into the air, I started thanking the universe for bringing my car down in a speedy manner. I told the universe/myself that I appreciated the fact that one of the young, spry attendants had gone to get my vehicle (as opposed to one of the older guys who has a hard time getting out of the seat when it’s time for him to surrender the car). As I repeated these thoughts, I started to calm down and believe them. At 5:44 pm I glanced at my phone, and noted that I needed to be getting into my car in one minute in order to get to class on time. I heard the screech of tires coming down the ramp and got up to check, fully expecting to see a BMW SUV or a shiny new Mini Cooper pulling up.
But it was my car.
I walked over as the attendant bounced to a stop and got out. It was the youngest guy in the place. I tipped him, threw my bag into the back seat and climbed in. As I pulled my seat forward and snapped my seatbelt into place, I glanced at the clock. It said exactly 5:45 pm.