I started using Instagram this year. Not in a casual, healthy, everything in moderation kind of way. Not just some mindless scrolling or the occasional selfie. I’ve been really using it.
And let me tell you, it’s been great. All of that commenting, stories creating, daily posting, and double tapping has really paid off. Not just because of the little tingle of satisfaction I get every time somebody ‘likes’ one of my posts, but because Instagram has taught me that the universe is investing a surprising, and frankly really gratifying amount of energy into making my personal dreams come true.
I’ve discovered hundreds, perhaps even thousands of accounts filled with posts informing me that “The universe is working on a miracle especially for you this weekend” or “This week will bring abundance, health, love and positive energy into your life.” and all I have to do to receive them is indicate that I agree by typing ‘yes’, or ‘🔑’ or a little bafflingly, ‘1111’.
Setting aside the question of how this miracle can be especially for me when this particular account has over a million followers, all of whom have just typed ‘1111’ with equal fervour, I’m just really grateful that after this weekend, all of my financial, spiritual, psychic, romantic, physical, emotional, and Instagram fame related worries will be over….
…it’s just…I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’ve been vibrating at this higher spiritual frequency lately, but I’ve been beginning to feel a little guilty about this miracle that the universe is working so hard to bestow upon me. It’s as if I can’t help but wonder if it’s okay that the entire universe is in this state of permanent readiness to deliver ever larger and more wondeful blessings into my life.
After all, my life is pretty great now. The universe has already provided me with a fully functioning body, a life in a place that has never once been ravaged by famine, political oppression or plagues of locusts. I have almost unlimited access to sushi, pizza that can be delivered straight to my door, and clean running water at the turn of a tap. I’m typing this on £1500 computer. I already have more things to be thankful for than I can count.
And sure, that doesn’t mean that things couldn’t be better, Instagram has taught me that too. It’s bursting at the seams with people who are so star-spangled beautiful, so Richy Rich rich, so awe-inspiringly intelligent, or started their lives with such an enormous advantage over the rest of us mere mortals, that it seems like the universe has been dumping miracles in their laps since the day they were born. The universe has given them a life that I can barely dream of, and I feel like I deserve that too. It’s just, lately I’ve been worrying; what if sitting on my ass and waiting for the things I want to fall into my lap is not, in fact, an action plan?
I guess what I’m saying is, there are close to eight billion people on the planet, many of whom have lives much harder than mine. Maybe there are better uses for the universe’s resources than lavishing me with the mountains of abundance, clarity and wealth that I’ve been diligently visualising into my life. Maybe I’ve already been given plenty by the universe and now it’s my turn. Maybe, just maybe, the greatest miracle of all would be for me to realise that I’m not entitled to be given the things I want, but that it’s time I have something back to the universe.
Type ‘1111’ if you agree.