He's also got The Secret: Bob Proctor is one of many "philosophers" to appear on The Secret DVD.By now you’ve read about the self-help phenomenon that is The Secret. You’ve probably heard that the book is #1 in its category on the New York Times bestseller list, and that the DVD is #1 on Amazon (with the book second only to the new Harry Potter). The Secret's cadre of experts has been featured on every major talk show, from Oprah, to Larry King, to NPR’s Talk of the Nation. Unsurprisingly, the media is fascinated by our country’s infatuation with a philosophy that insists you can get everything you’ve always wanted… simply by pretending you already have it.

That’s right, The Secret is, above all, about the power of positive thinking. Its central tenet is the law of attraction; according to Bob Proctor, one of the gurus on the DVD and in the book, “Everything that’s coming into your life you are attracting into your life…Whatever is going on in your mind you are attracting to you.” OK, so this is nothing new. This is what self-helpers through the ages have always believed, it’s why they go around smiling their gooey smiles and inviting random strangers to meditation meet-ups and community kitchens—in order to attract other self-helpers to meditate and cook and self-congratulate with. You are what you seek: This is what Scientologists believe; what people take home from the Landmark Forum, what they learned from EST back in the day.

So what makes The Secret so different from all these “self-actualization” groups many of us think of as cults? It requires nothing of you. You need not spend anything beyond the cost of materials to reach your full potential--$34.95 for the DVD, $23.95 for the book—even less on Amazon. You don’t have to go to classes with people who annoy you, or fear being seduced into a pyramid scheme, or believe in Xenu, or force your bladder into submission during an overlong revival at some airport Hilton. The Secret fits perfectly into the lazy, thrifty hole in the soul of America.

It also plays into Americans’ beliefs in omnipotence and magical thinking. Who among us hasn’t believed they might be discovered while walking down Hollywood Boulevard, or made a billionaire by purchasing a Powerball ticket? Who doesn’t fantasize about instant success without effort? Transformation without perspiration—a total life makeover in one thirty-minute segment—that is the real American dream.

I am no different from most Americans in my desire for change and my lack of motivation to affect it. But I am not the sort of person who usually consults self-help books. As a rule I find them obvious, poorly-written, cheesy, and, most important, uncool. The lameness factor doesn’t necessarily come from the way these books are executed, but from the general sentiment behind them: I don’t want to admit that I want to be the best I can be.

I don’t think I am alone in this. We in our twenties and thirties, who grew up listening to Nirvana and encouraging our hair to cover our faces, are used to playing down our accomplishments. We want to be gifted, not driven. We want our successes to happen to us—so we don’t feel guilty, so we don’t have to try too hard, so we feel special.

Recently I thought, though: What if my desire to be cool is impeding my capacity to be happy? What if my snobbishness is robbing me of the wisdom I need to self-actualize? Maybe people with correspondence degrees and life-coaching businesses really do have a lot to teach! Maybe I am surrounded by mopey complainers because I am a mopey complainer!

So, I have decided to try The Secret. I will watch the DVD and read the book and for three weeks I will do what they tell me to. I will practice the law of attraction. I will think happy thoughts. I will close my eyes and pretend to drive an imaginary Ferrari.

While 99 percent of me thinks this is a silly idea, 1 percent of me really hopes—OK, believes—that it will work. That at the end of three weeks I will have a book contract, a perfect husband, and a 26-inch waist. So stay tuned and I’ll let you know what happens. At this point, I’ll settle for one out of three.