When my kids were younger—hormonal and clearly still under emotional construction—our mornings were sometimes loud. Screaming, crying, slamming doors. And me? Just trying to drink my coffee and keep my act together. But their energy? I’d absorb it like a sponge and carry it all day. Like starting the morning by stubbing your toe—and then reacting to that bruise for the next 12 hours. Because that’s how the day started.

I read The Secret and loved it enough to buy the DVD. (It was 2006, and Blockbuster was still alive and well.) It starts with this exact idea: when you begin your day in pain—say, by stubbing your toe—you say, “Aw, sh*#,” and then dump that energy on everyone else. Then they do the same. Before long, we’re all limping around—bruised, bitter, and pissed—over something that started with one stubbed toe.

So in pursuit of peace, I’d queue up The Secret like it was movie night—except instead of Disney, they got manifesting and mindset with popcorn. It became a “thing” in our house. If the morning kicked off in chaos, I’d say, “Don’t stub my toe too!”—basically code for, “Please don’t suck the life out of me before breakfast.”

Because here’s the deal: we are responsible for the energy we bring into a room. For what we lay on someone else’s plate. For how we make others feel. Your stress and energy affect everyone around you—including you. That’s the lesson.

The book shares a lot of powerful messages—especially the idea that thoughts attract matching experiences.
Thoughts become things.
And apparently, so do moods—because we’ve all seen one enter the room before the person does.

We all trip.
Just don’t let your stubbed toe set the tone for everyone else’s day.
Including yours.