Tag Archives: Vision Board

The end of my month following The Secret by Rhonda Byrne. So do I believe in the magic?

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So my month following The Secret by Rhonda Byrne is over and it’s been a weird one. I’ve written fake cheques, bought a dress that doesn’t fit me and cleared out half my wardrobe, in the hope that it brings my dream man. But I still haven’t really got my head around the whole Genie in a bottle stuff of asking for anything you want and believing that my wish is the Universe’s command.

As my friend Zoe says, ‘so can I ask for bigger boobs?’ Exactly! Would The Secret argue that the universe would increase Zoe’s bust to Pamela Anderson proportions if she just believed that it was so?

I do believe that anything is possible if you put your mind to it – but I don’t think it happens by magic.

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Vision Board Angst

I started my Vision Board on Monday and it seems to have brought on a lot of soul-searching, naval gazing and general faffing. Even more than usual.

Who knew something that involves paper scissors and a glue stick could be so troublesome?

For those not familiar with the idea a vision board is basically a big pin-board or piece of card on which you stick pictures or words that depict your dream future. It’s like scrap booking. You can also do it on Pinterest but the idea is that you keep it somewhere that you’ll see it all the time, so I think physical is best.

They’re recommended in The Secret on the basis that if you collect pictures of the sort of life you want, hey presto, you’ll make it happen. John Assaraf, one of the experts quoted in the book, says he cut out a picture of a giant mansion from a magazine for his vision board and five years later found himself living in it. The exact same house.

With that in mind, I went imaginary house shopping. Ever since I went there for work last year, I’ve been a bit fixated by the thought of living in LA for a while. Yes it’s LA-LA land and there are loads of ridiculously perfect people walking around but I loved it. I wanted to stay forever and drink green juices and go to yoga. I had visions of me being all happy and healthy and bendy instead of spotty and tired and hungover.

So I bought a pinboard, some drawing pins and went online  to pick out my dream Californian home. I was spoilt for choice. I couldn’t decide between something in the Hollywood Hills or something by the beach. Spanish bungalow or uber modern and glassy?  I spent twenty minutes looking at tiles for a bathroom I don’t have in a house I don’t have in a country I don’t live in. Aqua or green? Purple or blue? I did the same with cushions for my non-existent beige sofa.

I kid you not, this got me stressed.

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