I so appreciate you finding your way here. May our association help both of us dive deeper into the healing currents of love's presence.

Let's begin with two songs of mine, Teach Me How To Love, and It Takes Courage. They will get you in the mood....

1. http://ia700404.us.archive.org/10/items/TeachMeHowToLove_725/01TeachMeHowToLove.mp3

2. http://ia700400.us.archive.org/4/items/ItTakesCourage/08ItTakesCourage.mp3

(sample more at www.scottsongs.com)

Thursday, January 12, 2017

The Science of Serendipity

Is serendipity a gift of grace or a natural result of a certain mindset?

Last week I was feasting my eyes and ears on Carole King, watching interviews, adoring her live performances on You Tube, and reading her memoir, A Natural Woman

So, imagine my surprise when on Monday night two women approached my dinner table while serenading me with a classic Carole King song, Tapestry.

It felt surreal and amazing. How could they know there already was a Carole King concert going on in my heart? 

Synchronicity? Coincidence? The Law of Attraction? 

Whatever it was, it was utterly delightful.

It reminded me of an experience I had twenty years ago. 

I had just written a song that began with the lyric:

So I tuck you in child, and I kiss you goodnight
Then I read you a story and turn out the light
But before I go, I want you to know

My love

At that time, 1995, I never imagined I would ever be a father. I wrote it to help me re-parent myself. I sang it over and over again that day I wrote it, serenading my inner child while gazing in the mirror. 

That night a friend came over with a video we had planned to watch together. But she also had something else in her pocketbook. A surprise. 

“Scott, before we watch the movie, I’ve a gift for you, but to receive it, you must first slip into some pajamas, get under the covers, and pretend it's bedtime.” 

She proceeded to read me a children’s story about a troubadour, as if she was tucking me in.

How did she know?

In 1995 I got to record that song with my producer, Peter Sprague.

Listen to it here: A Child’s Lullaby 

Do take note of the moment where I got to sing four part harmony with myself, a multiple orgasm of vocal pleasure if there ever was one. It happens 3:56 into the song.

Do you believe that what you dwell upon, mentally and emotionally, creates a tractor beam that draws life experiences to you? 

I do. But I didn’t always believe that.

I grew up in a family that was totally into positive thinking. We were totally positive that our thinking had nothing to do with what happened in our lives!

 Like many of us, my upbringing in this culture conditioned me to focus on what I didn't have, what I didn’t want, and the worst-case scenarios that might occur at any moment. It's as if there was a character in my mind as grumpy and negative as Scrooge. Any expansive, positive attitudes and ideas that might lead to feelings of enchantment, excitement and possibility were quickly struck down with a “Bah, humbug!” by this character.

I nicknamed him the SKEPTIC.

The SKEPTIC believed that life was cruel, and that all things ended in disappointment. 

He also believed that if I allowed my subconscious to repeat the mantra, “Life is cruel and all things end in disappointment” over and over, I would not be so disappointed by the harshness of life.

His goal was to prepare and protect me by discounting anything that might threaten my reality as I know it. When I was young, the SKEPTIC put a powerful pair of dark sunglasses on my eyes. They filtered out anything too bright, new, weird, or far out. They fit so snugly that after a while it seemed as if they weren’t there.

 On the morning of my first day of high school I woke up with the first of many severe acne breakouts, and it felt to me like the end of the world was at hand. For two years, going to school was hell, and under the strict restraining orders of my SKEPTIC, I took no risks, kept my head low, and reached out to no one, especially the opposite sex. 

In my junior year, the strain of hiding became too great, and I moved myself into some self-expression. I wrote for a school newspaper, ran for student office, and auditioned for a school play.

Landing the starring role in a comedy, I was to play an awkward teenager with a face full of pimples, few social skills, and zero dates. 

In other words, myself!

When I took a more thorough look at the script I seriously considered backing out. I had to say things like “Damn these zits! I’ll never get a girl interested in me!" and "If anyone knew just how scared I was, they would laugh or throw up. Or both!” 

This would not be acting, but a harsh reality show of the most embarrassing kind, a cruel form of social suicide. The only thing more terrifying than doing the play would be everyone in school knowing exactly why I backed out. I had to follow through.

 My performance turned out to be a big breakout hit. For the first time in life, breaking out was a good thing. Even more surprising was how much I enjoyed it, and how I felt myself relaxing and lightening up about my pimply predicament. When the play was over I had fewer secrets, and overnight became a visible and popular person in the school. I was invited to parties, given compliments, and approached by people - even female people!

Within a week of doing the play, I woke up to something major staring back at me from the mirror: a clear complexion!  In breaking out of an emotional prison, somehow my face stopped breaking out. 

What was up with that? Serendipity? Was there a connection? The SKEPTIC, certain there was no link, classified it as a coincidence, and gave the credit to the new acne cream I was using. There was no possibility in his mind that the clearing had something to do with letting some light and levity shine on my then terribly serious sense of self. 

The SKEPTIC was certain there was no science to serendipity, no such thing as mind over matter. He convinced me to forget that woo-woo stuff.  Never mind, doesn't matter.

Three years later I was diving into books on metaphysics, and began experimenting with using affirmations and visualizations. 

The SKEPTIC looked the other way and did not protest, so long as my curiosity stayed at the dabbling level. No commitment, no threat. I was writing prosperity statements like “I am a money magnet” twenty times in the morning and again at night.

After a few days of this, I walked onto a New York City subway and spied a five-dollar bill on the floor near my feet. Pocketing the surprise, I promptly forgot about it and went about my business. In all my years of living in the city, I had never found any bill larger than a dollar, but I did not link the five-spot with my affirmative gymnastics. The next morning before leaving for a day of laundry bag sales, I filled my tummy with pancakes and my mind with money magnetism. I hopped on a city bus and took a seat right next to another loose, unclaimed five-dollar bill. This time I couldn’t deny the connection. I had magnetized some money into my life with my mind!

I began to feel creepy. Could my thoughts really have that much power? Am I really that responsible for creating my reality? My sunglasses were being removed, and I found the light too blinding to handle. If I was in charge of my own serendipity, then that would mean that my cherished victim stories might be mythical, fiction instread of factual.

I wasn’t yet ready to go from renting my reality to owning it free and clear. I was far too entrenched in blaming my parents, the government and God for my problems. It was a while before I was willing to use affirmations again.

Three years later I was taking classes in meditation and spirituality in NYC offered by Hilda Charlton, a wise and beloved teacher who helped and guided thousands during her lifetime. Every Thursday night about four hundred of us would sit with Hilda. She would love us, entertain us, and then challenge us to look at ourselves and our limited beliefs and identities. She excelled in the art of sunglasses removal, and there were times I did not appreciate her skills at all!

One month Hilda seemed to talk a great deal about her communications with beings from other planets. She casually mentioned that they appeared in her living room and conversed with her about spiritual matters. Each time she broached the subject, my mental “Bah, humbug!” screamed at her. My mind was closed tightly when it came to ET’s, and I didn’t see how intelligent people could believe that visitors from outer space were available for fireside chats. 

One evening Hilda seemed to focus her gaze directly on me as she addressed the group: “Do you want to know why I’m spending all this time talking to you about the ET's? To get you out of your little mental boxes, that’s why! There’s a whole universe out there teeming with life, dimensions upon dimensions! Open your minds, kids!” 

In that moment I saw clearly the uptight stance of my skeptical nature, guardian of my fear, and I prayed for help in freeing myself from that rigidity and opening myself to my natural state of openness. I felt a shift, as if my SKEPTIC said, “All right, I have to admit that there is nothing dangerous about having an open mind about all this.”

Two weeks later a friend called. “Scott, I know you sell things on the sidewalks, and I just discovered two hundred T-shirts in my basement. I’ve had them for years, and I’ll give you a great price! Would you like them?” 

I politely declined, believing that T-shirts in November would not sell at any price. “Oh, that’s too bad!” he said. “They are so nice! They have a picture of a UFO landing on earth and they say “I Believe” on them.” Well, my head started spinning and I thought I heard The Twilight Zone music playing in the background. The SKEPTIC chimed in and said, “Calm down, Scott. It's just a coincidence.” But this time I could not retreat to the comfort of my protective sunglasses. Instead, I let the experience rattle my cages and open my mind. I ended up buying his ET-shirts and selling them at Hilda’s classes. I sold out in two nights.

On another occasion, a friend who was struggling with having to find a new place to live at the last minute asked for some help. I led her through a visualization in which we imagined the perfect living space coming into her world quickly and easily. We mentally toured the rooms of her new home, giving thanks for what we declared would be the easiest move of her life. As we went through the process we both had some resistance, internally muttering, “This is such metaphysical mumbo jumbo!” We voiced the doubts and laughed at ourselves, admitting, “Hey, this can’t hurt, it might even help, and it sure is fun!”

Two days later my friend, while fetching the morning paper in her bathrobe, noticed a For Rent sign on the lawn of her next door neighbor to the left. She investigated the situation and ended up moving into the house. It turned out to be quite literally the easiest move of her life!

These, and many other experiences, have gradually inspired me to make space in my head for a universe filled with endless serendipity, one that works with me and for me as I learn to think in harmony with my desires and focus my attention on positive, joyful things.

My skeptical voice is still present, wanting to draw a chalk circle around my world and say, “This is your safety. Stay within this circle and everything will be predictable and under control.”

But I have accumulated too much evidence, too many cosmic coincidences, to continue seriously counseling with the SKEPTIC.

When he barks his concerns these days, I thank him for sharing, and send him back to his room, a little space I call The Skeptic Tank

When I first had the idea to assign him his own room he exclaimed, quite predictably, “Only one room? Is this all the tanks I get?”  

Poor SKEPTIC. The universe seems to be much grander and more magical than your sunglasses can keep up with. Have you considered taking them off and adjusting to the light?

More of Scott Grace at: www.scottsongs.comwww.scottsongs.com


  1. Dear Scott, I absolutely love it. Thank you.

    1. So glad, Sarah. Much of it, every part except the first two stories, is lifted from my book, Teach Me How to Love.

  2. This is great. Don't we all have that inner skeptic who can't see the miracles showing up in our life all the time? Your stories are wonderful. Great reminders for doing the inner work.

    1. Yes, I know of many who share in that doubting Thomas...thanks for writing!

  3. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute reading this. Love the skeptic tank. I am bor rowing your building skills and relegating my stinker thinker to the newly built skeptic tank. Thank you very much. SHE was far too noisy.