“WEIRDO MAGNET”
I’m sure that it’s not the first time you’ve seen or heard someone declare herself a “weirdo magnet”. Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not producing this blurb as yet another bitter woman’s proclamation that the only kind of men out there are broken, warped beings who walk the earth for the sole purpose of causing women to look over their shoulder constantly and check that the door is locked three times before going to bed. No. I may be putting a new twist on an old cliché.
From just beyond my toddler years, I seem to have a recollection of bringing home “strays” of every kind. Whether they were wounded birds, fallen squirrels or abandoned cats and dogs, I had a knack of tugging on my mother’s heart strings until she said we could keep it…what ever “it” was…until they were better or the owner came to claim them. Those were some fond memories now that I think about them again.
As I grew older, my need to give care to anything “broken” and my capacity for doing so, grew along with me. At any given time one would find at the very least, a few cats and a dog or two who had taken up household in our all too humble habitats. Who would have known that those furry critters were building a fortress…a haven for all of the Universe’s creatures to be welcomed, nurtured and loved despite their handicaps? I certainly didn’t think about it until the stress of it caught up with me one adult day.
Unwittingly, my love for furry critters evolved into a love of the not so furry ones also. I love people. In so loving people, I still to this day will strike up a conversation in the check out line at the grocery store or even yell across the street to the neighbors passing by. I love them. I want to hear the resonance in their voice as they talk to me. I want to see the expressions on their face as they share an experience of the day…no matter if the experience was happy, sad or indifferent. I think it’s funny when I see a piece of their lunch still clinging to one of their teeth and I wonder what made them so busy that they didn’t notice. I look at their countenance and study every little nuance from the color of their hair (or roots) to the kind of shoes they’re wearing. I still want to know all the people I can. It’s a strange hunger I suppose but I just can’t seem to get enough of them.
Sorry about the digression…back to the stress thing.
One evening as I was begrudgingly cooking dinner, my late husband came into the kitchen knowing that something was wrong with me. He knew something was wrong because it was a rare occasion that I cooked ANYTHING begrudgingly. There were a number of political issues going on in the church we attended and one of my dearest friends and myself, seemed to be in the mix of it. She had never kept it secret that she suffered from mental illness. In my eyes, despite her self- proclaimed “handicap” she was indeed a very strong woman. Perhaps, however, I overestimated her. I was accustomed to seeing her “manic” side and after years of knowing her, was now privy to experiencing her “depressive” side. Seeing this threw everything I’d known about her, off balance. I was sad. I was stressed out because I didn’t know how to handle this other personality of hers and any reaction I was giving her was met with her disapproval. I didn’t want to see the foundation of a friendship that was years in the making, crumble to the ground.
This is when my late husband presented me with one of the most valuable wisdom pearls I’ve ever received. He told me like it was…and is. He honestly told me without mincing words, that I am a weirdo magnet.
Now you’re probably thinking the same thing I was…that THAT was a hell of a thing to tell your wife. But he meant it in a most loving way and I’m thankful that I stayed calm enough to hear him out.
He told me that in the 20 plus years he’d known me, people like my dear friend were always drawn to me. They were first drawn to me by my beauty and openness, and they were secondly drawn to me because of my power. My strength, he told me, is what gave me my power. He likened me as the candlelight that the moths are drawn to. With a giant lump in my throat, he continued on…reminding me of people and times in my life that supported his proven theory about me. What more could I say to that? How does one get angry at that title when it’s stated about one so beautifully? I couldn’t say anything except to hug him and tell him that he was my best friend. I then politely and lovingly accepted that truth about myself.
I love thinking about this pivotal moment in my time on this plane because it was yet another piece of evidence that the law of attraction was at work in my life long before I even realized it. Again I will tell my reader that studying, practicing and training myself to “live the law” hasn’t caused the events in my life to change. It’s done much more than that. It’s taught me to LOOK at the events in a different way. I look at the fact that I may be a weirdo magnet in a completely different way because of that day with my husband.
I’m closer than ever with my dear friend who endured that church experience with me. We’ve both traveled our spiritual paths together and have grown as not only human beings, but as spirits having a human experience. So who’s the weirdo and who’s the magnet? It doesn’t really matter. Hopefully we are all weirdoes…and all magnets at any given time. The important thing is that we’re all in it together…attracted to each other…sometimes being the moth…and other times being the flame.
Shine on!
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