Recently I’ve been hearing instructive quips about my behavior, as in “get right with the world” and “negative thoughts draw negative thoughts.”
At first I believed I was merely hearing voices. Then I realized my whispering wife was essentially proselytizing on behalf of some self-help gurus who have written something called The Vortex.
This is nothing unusual, really. Despite the fact I will never read The Vortex, don’t care anything about The Vortex and wouldn’t give The Vortex room even in the garage if I had my druthers, my wife will continue reading to me “the good parts.” This is called “love,” an act of friendship on the part of a partner intent on saving my eternal soul and my mind all in the same moment.
Saturday Night Fever
“Listen to this,” she’ll say, and then proceed to read a passage about how the universe works in your favor if only you will give it the energy. This is supposed to be a pep talk in preparation for whatever it is The Vortex is either about to deliver or transport. The idea is to get me on the wave length that is apparently flashing in the universe like that throbbing electrified floor John Travolta danced on in Saturday Night Fever, a special place that can only be seen by the same people who have bought The Vortex.
Beware the snobs
I was once a literary snob who judged people on what they read.
Then I realized we read the way we eat: Sometimes all we want is comfort food.
The Vortex appeals to those folks in search of worldly answers to the state of things. Nothing wrong with that.
Ultimately, The Vortex and similar books have a clear message: The universe has relationships and your energy–good, bad or indifferent–matters. I can buy that. In fact, any book you acquire that can make sense of a complex world works for you, despite naysayers like myself.
Life is far too difficult to navigate listening only to one voice. So don’t listen to me. Listen to yourself or to someone who loves you. Maybe the universe is speaking after all.