Shhhh... I don't want Oprah to know

Liz reveals:

I work in an industry where there is an understood acceptance that self-help books contain the true meaning of life. I find this quite annoying. I am pleased, and somewhat humbled, to report that I am one of the few truly satisfied, usually joyful, very well adjusted taking up space in this world.

It's a small club I belong to and we have a rather exclusive membership. No artists or musicians are allowed because too often they're tortured souls. No recently divorced are invited because they carry hate issues with them for way too long. Neurotics are obviously left off the guest list although we will let one in if it's within 24 hours of his getting laid. Sometimes lovable alcoholics are allowed in briefly, if escorted by a member and if there is an open bar. Hey, even the well adjusted like to have good times.

You either have issues that plague you or you don't. I don't, and I'm not even from the Midwest.

I'm interested in the dysfunctional. You might even say I'm magnetically attracted. Their problems are like a free freak show that I observe for a brief period before piling my college-educated ass into my paid-for car and driving to my well-appointed home in the suburbs. Once home, I don't worry about being beaten by my meth-addicted husband, I don't refrain from answering the telephone because it may be a bill collector and I don't worry that my boyfriend's wife is going to find him tied up in my bed with hot candle wax being poured over his nipples (anymore). I don't worry that the scam I'm running will be discovered, I don't complain that my child is a teenage hoodlum headed straight to Hell and I don't cry when someone tells me that they don't like my outfit. No thanks. Those types of activities are reserved for people who either have issues or want issues, not for the gleefully content.

This is why I fell hook, line, and sinker, when a coworker approached me and asked if I knew "the secret". See, I don't watch Oprah- that's part of being well adjusted- and I didn't know there WAS a secret. I didn't know there was a book and a DVD and that the secret would change my life. "Why would I want to change my life?" I asked. His eyes shifted. "Everyone wants a better life." "Really? Weird."

I feel pretty damn lucky all of the time and the more he was explaining what the secret is and how the secret works, the luckier I felt. How interesting to be part of a spiritual pyramid scheme. How revolutionary the idea that someone else has to tell you how to be happy. How pathetically sad.

I mean that.

Today I came home and turned on Oprah, just hoping. I knew what channel it came on, which I found surprising. Today she was talking again about the secret. Just like the secret's law of attraction promises: What you hold in your heart you DO bring into your world!

So I listened for a bit while I was getting ready to go to a movie. On the show a woman asked if the secret (I feel like I should be capitalizing that) contradicted religion. Blah, blah, blah and then she asked, terrified and angrily, "So, people can just live their lives having fun and going to parties and not have to worry about the consequences?"

What kind of question is that? Isn't that part of the reason we have life? To have joy and bring joy to others?

Look, folks, I have a secret and that is that once Oprah finds out about something, it ain't a secret no more.

I hope that if you suffer from discontent that better fortune (which, in non-medical examples IS by design) comes your way. But if you're not going to take the steps to make your life better, please give me a call. I'd LOVE to be on three-way when you call your $200/hour psychic.