Yes, I saw it in the movie theater six times. The 1982 American science fiction film, E. T. (for extra-terrestrial), was a big hit in my household. One of my favorite scenes, however, had nothing to do with the little creature from outer space.

It was the scene of the mother reading to her daughter at bedtime, something that was a gift with life-long benefits that my mother also gave me. Anyway, they’re reading Peter Pan, the part where Peter’s side-kick, the feisty faery Tinker Bell, is hurt and fading away. Everyone must clap to show her that they truly believe in faeries. As the mother reads, “Do you believe? If you do, clap your hands!” she and the daughter clap-clap-clap-clap-clap together.

What has stayed with me was the child’s face. It reflected total faith that her clapping could help bring Tink back to life right then and there. Earnest, innocent, complete faith. She believed.

Sometimes the gap between our doubt and our belief is small; sometimes gaping. We want to believe. We know that our earnest beliefs, our dominant beliefs about a topic, shape our experience of it, but sometimes it’s hard to hold a new belief.

About a year ago, however, I read a statement of belief that felt so light and easy, I couldn’t resist it. This is one used by Ester Hicks, the wonderful woman who channels the energy of a group of non-physical beings called simply, Abraham. This statement lives on the dashboard of her vehicle, written in reverse, so that it reflects in the glass of the windshield and she can read it as she drives.

Things are always working out for me.

What a nice thought to think, especially if one could feel into the truth of it.  In my head, I already believed it.  How could I get it into my being and feel it there, at a cellular level as the metaphysical saying goes?

Well, I put it on my dashboard.  At first, I’d read it just to read it. Then I started noticing how good it felt when I read it each time I got in the car. I’d read it sitting at stop lights and it made me smile. Then I noticed that the reflected words seemed to wink at me from the glass as I passed through sun and shade (literally and figuratively). Quirky evidence of its truth started showing up (or I started paying more attention!):

  • a frustrating delay that proved quite beneficial

  • an overheard conversation with a message I needed to hear

  • a funky hand painted sign tacked on an electrical pole that made my day

  • a disappointment that was fortuitous

Now, after 12+ months of reading it and feeling it, I am living this reflected truth on a regular, amazing basis.  These seven words have seeped into my consciousness and become a statement of truth about my life — whether circumstances are so-called good OR so-called bad, their truth prevails.

Things are always working out for me.

If you’re up for an experiment, print these seven words on a piece of card stock paper and cut out the strip (share the extras with a friend), and position them on your dashboard.  And clap if you believe!