But Do I Deserve It?
By Lavinia Plonka
I have a jacket I call God’s jacket. There was a period in my life where it seemed like nothing went right. I was in debt, my practice was not growing, in fact, it was almost non-existent and I needed a jacket. I saw one in a trendy catalog that seemed unaffordable. It was $275, which seemed exorbitant in the 1990’s. I would look at that jacket. And stress about my life. And look at that jacket. And bemoan my fate. Then I caught a cold. Ever since my childhood asthma, my respiratory system had been my teacher. Whenever I was in denial about my life situation, unhappy, stressed, broke, frustrated, I caught a cold. If I ignored the cold (because each time I totally forgot that my body was trying to talk to me and I assumed I was merely sick), it quickly either turned into bronchitis, a sinus infection, or some other dreadful, dramatic outpouring of mucus that put a new meaning on the term “phlegmatic.” Once again, I ignored the cold.
Soon I noticed it wasn’t leaving. That constant discomfort in my nose, that constant feeling of not being able to breathe, that pressing in my head persisted. Finally I recognized it. I was getting a sinus infection. “Oh no! “ I moaned. I envisioned the doctor bill, the prescription cost, cancelling the few classes I had, cash register bells started ringing in my head alongside the throbbing. The last time I had a sinus infection, it had ended up costing me over $200. And then as I passed the coffee table, I saw the catalog with my jacket calling to me.
I burst into tears. I sat down on the couch and began to pray, to everyone and everything: Mr. God, my “higher” self, the Universe, the etheric field that some scientists say creates reality, even Tinkerbell. “PLEASE! Don’t make it a sinus infection! Please, please, please. If it’s not a sinus infection I promise to buy the jacket!” There was silence. Of course, what did I expect, a voice coming from the clouds? A gust of wind? Glinda the good witch? I sat there, and after a few minutes I was completely overwhelmed with a shocking feeling. It wasn’t words, no voice talked to me. But I understood that I literally had to put my money where my mouth was. I had to buy the jacket first. I had to believe, really believe, not sorta kind believe, but in my core, believe I deserved it.
I bought it. You’d think I was buying a house, I was so afraid to spend that money. The next morning I woke up, and the sinus infection was gone. Did I create the sinus infection to justify buying the jacket? Did the adrenaline from putting $275 on my charge card knock out the irritation? Was I already recovering and didn’t know it? Or was the universe talking to me?
It slowly, (and I mean slowly, like years) dawned on me that I had been living with a series of core beliefs that destined me for a lifetime of the same poverty I had grown up in. I had spent half a lifetime running in place, like Elmer Fudd trying to catch Bugs Bunny.
God’s jacket woke me up to the simple truth that the universe hears every word I say. I learned to catch myself saying self-sabotaging things like, “Well, things are going well, I wonder when the other shoe will drop,” or “Wow, I made this month’s bills and have money left over, what disaster will strike next?” Not just words, but thoughts: you don’t deserve success, you’re not working hard enough, be careful, this can’t last.
My Mother, a Russian pessimist, used to sneer at my dreams and say, “May all your dreams come true, and may they come to haunt you.” Spiritual teachers often tell us that we pick our parents before we are born for the lessons we need to learn. My biggest lesson was learning that nothing is
impossible – it’s only my beliefs that keep from my dreams. If my parents had simply been wonderful and supportive, I might never have learned the power of intentional thought.
The jacket is no longer as hip as it was then. But it’s still in my closet, a reminder that as Shakespeare said, “ . . . there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
