I have lost my power to cheat, steal and lie. I used to be so good at it, a borderline pro. Stuck in a corner? A lie would appear like magic getting me out of a jam. Low on cash, but in desperate need of some hair products? A bottle of frizz-eaze would fit perfectly in my pocket when the store clerks’ attention was turned. I had no qualms about shoplifting almost everyday, it was pathological.
I have not stolen a single thing in several years and when I try to lie, it just won’t come out.
This may have something to do with the fact that I am older and exponentially more mature from when I shoplifted my very first candy bar. It might have something to do with the fact that my Mother is now looking down on me from above and may or may not be able to see everything I do. It may have something to do with the fact that I now realize my actions as a petty criminal and liar have caused harm to others, which is not cool. But it was none of those things.
When recently standing in the spice aisle of the supermarket in need of some cloves for a recipe, but not wanting to shell out nine bucks for a teensy bottle, I came very close to pocketing the item and walking out the store without paying; who would it hurt? What stopped me was the idea that stealing this small item could cause a deficit in my bag of cosmic good fortune. I am not saying Karma. My name is not Earl. I have had some bad, painful shit happen to me and maybe it happened because of the bad shit I have done. If shoplifting small items from a convenience store is going to stockpile some bad juju that may turn around and fuck me later, I need to avoid that. My chronic role as a deceiver and a thief has been replaced by well-meaning honesty and do-goodery. It sucks, man. I sure do miss getting things for free.
For some reason this new affliction of good does not apply to office supplies from the workplace.