The Power of Intention and The New Me

intentionFRIDAY FUNNIES: I FINALLY DID IT. Actually, it wasn’t really me, it was the Power of Intention that did it. I got myself a pretty new car…

What the heck am I clucking about, you ask? Was it not lil’ ole’ me that drove out to the dealership and drove off with shiny new wheels? We both know I’ve had a powerful bad hankering to sizzle around in a sexier ride as of late.

So powerful I caress the notion constantly. I even wish for it upon a shooting star late one eve during a meteor shower.

This practice of ‘notion caressing’ started some years ago when my pal Michelle gave me Wayne Dyer’s ‘Power of Intention CD set and by golly, I was so taken with Wayne’s soothing voice that I listened to it at every opportunity. Over and over. It is magical how Wayne always sets me straight in times of temporary insanity. Why I know those Power of Intention CDs backwards and forwards…

Call me crazy but I’m also guilty of tearing through stacks of magazines and making lovely vision boards à  la ‘The Secret and the Law of Attraction’. It really works. I’ve gotten pretty much everything I’ve glue sticked on there.
intentionBut the car is a biggie for me so I go for broke and let loose in my Boomer Cave with a box of thumbtacks and a thousand photos of the object of my desire. Even my cell phone wallpaper is not spared. Do you have any idea how often I check email on my cell phone?

I’m afraid to count.

Daily admiring my new automotive wallpaper no longer suffices so one fine day when an early errand has me in the vicinity of the Lexus dealership, I get sucked into the new car lot like I was walking past a good shoe store.

Something about the smell of leather, mmm-mmm.

Glancing down at my haphazard get-up – disgracefully torn jeans, flip flops and a pink t-shirt advertising Stuart’s Cove Dive Shop, I realize that while the intention is there, I am not at all decked out in luxury car shopping attire.My hair looks like a rat’s nest and my face is totally ‘au naturel’.

intention

Moving right along to Plan B, I decide to window shop the dealer lot for inspiration.

The ground zips open and a daring salesman, Rob, steps up to greet me. Discretely I check my chin for drool and we chat, open a few car doors, smell leather seats. Having had my fix, I amble off, Rob’s card in hand. I tell him I’m not in the market until Christmas.

The best part is, Rob never even asks for my number. Perfect, he’ll never call me.

My creative visualizing process is now in unstoppable full swing. That very weekend I don an elegantly slinky sleeveless wrap dress and sparkly golden Weitzman sandals and make my way to the dealership. Inside, this time.

Hours of leather sniffing later I select a beautiful GS 350 F Sport model to test drive, Rob says this baby is ‘off the hook’ and man, he ain’t kidding. It seriously kicks butt!! Rounding a tight freeway on-ramp Rob takes his own life in his hands and insists that instead of slowing like I normally would to prevent toppling my SUV, I shift it into S+ Sport mode and put the hammer down.

I oblige and the ensuing engine grrrrrrrrowl makes my adrenaline race, vrrrrooooom. Deliciously terrified, it is impossible to wipe the shit eating grin off my face… Woooohooo!!!! Damn, was that me? This ride is right on time.

I think I just grew some hair on my chest.

intentionBut wait, this model has way too much room in the back. Plus, the rear seat passengers have controls back there to adjust the music etc. Uh, I don’t think so, can’t have them messing with my buzz.

After some deliberation Rob emphasizes that ‘the lady likes power and you don’t want some lame ride’ so I opt for the scrumptious IS 350 F Sport with just enough room for  nobody in the back. Can you guess what the ‘F’ stands for?

Ooohhhhyeeeeeessssss…

Blue Eyes enviously beholds my new baby when I arrive home triumphant, peacock feathers fully fluffed. After all it has 6 horsepower more than his wheels.

That evening we sit in my new baby’s swank black bucket seats and christen her right in the driveway. Can you say coconut rum car party? We don’t even have to turn her on  to make her purr.

Thanks for the new me, Wayne.

 

intentionEsmée SJ