Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Love in the Third Degree.
I’m still bothered with some of the Law of Attraction followers, to the point I’ve decided to remove myself from further contact with certain people. Their self-righteousness really, really grates on my nerves. I’d like to be able to discuss it and practice it without wondering if they actually thought before saying something incredibly insensitive.
Not that it’s that way with everyone, but some of the zeal just doesn’t sit well. It’s like they’ve so far removed themselves from the situation that they no longer feel anything outside of themselves. (Yes, I’m an empath saying that.) It’s too much like a reformed addict who suddenly becomes God’s personal message to the world and preaches to the point of not just looking at the law and how it works, but shoving it down throats with no apparent compassion or feelings at all for anyone else. They hear only the good stuff and refuse to acknowledge that life has lots of good and bad or that there can be darker times to deal with while focusing on the positive and then what? How do you handle that? By pulling within and cutting yourself off from the world? By being emotional distancers?
And that’s fine as long as they don’t impose their view on me. When that’s the case, it becomes just another ego-fest of my-way-is-the-only-way-and-the-right-way.
This morning, I shared a phenomenal occurrence with an LOA fanatic. Not that everyone who believes LOA is a fanatic, but, well…I’ll get to that.
So I shared a deeply moving personal experience about something I attracted, how I did it, and what I received. I noted that I was beyond grateful, a lot awestruck, but a little sad because of something terrible that had happened to someone else at the same time. Something really heartbreaking.
Something that reminded me of a saying I heard in church when I was little—that there’ll be a few moments of silence in Heaven when you realize that someone you loved isn’t there with you and will never be and before you can be completely joyful about a happy afterlife, you have to acknowledge what you’ve lost.
I guess this person never heard that story. She immediately held me up to her clients as someone who had “done it right,” and talked in this maniacally sing-songy voice about how I’d done it and how all I had to do was feel good to get what I wanted and how obviously the person whose existence had been shattered was not living right.
“But what about —-?” one of her clients asked, regarding the terrible thing that had happened to someone else.
“Not her problem.” She went back to singing my praises for being “grateful” and “feeling good.”
I felt she’d entirely missed the point. My point was dealing with sadness and acceptance of less-than-joyful things in the world that I have no control over. Things I felt I had to acknowledge, even though my own life experience is proving to be quite good in the same areas. No, they’re not my “problem.” But I have empathy for what others face.
This woman lives in a place of emotional distance. She doesn’t want to feel anything unpleasant so she chooses not to examine it or feel it. If like attracts like, then she attracts my emotional distance from her and she repels me as a colleague and friend.
I’m an empath who has a hard time cutting myself off from others, even when and especially when they’re suffering. But I’m learning to put some emotional distance out there, too. Some of the LOA followers who are very good at “feeling good” and not so good at feeling anything else have taught me that.