Manifest

Wednesday, I thought to myself how strange it was that the Maximillian Sunflowers hadn’t bloomed this year.  Thursday morning, they were blooming.  Friday morning, I thought to myself, “I’m going to get the Wordle in two tries today”, and lo! And behold, I got the Wordle in two tries!

​Suddenly, I believed I could manifest anything and my imagination began running wild.  A little too wild.  I couldn’t decide what I wanted.  My mind vacillated between this and that, rampant with possibility. Like a cartoon character, my feet spinning uselessly beneath me, I tread a hole in the street of action and burned up an entire Sunday (funday) bouncing off ideas.

I love the word “manifest”.  More specifically, I love how we’ve taken the word from it’s “original” meaning of demonstrating or showing to making things happen.  My mortal self clings to this notion of control.  I am not so cynical, however, that I don’t believe our mindset influences our behavior and our behavior influences our outcomes, but skeptical enough to understand that I can’t manifest the blooming of flowers.  Heck, I am continuously surprised at how remarkably challenging it is to “control” the one person I am purportedly able to “control”.  Despite a decade of practice, my emotional reactions still take me by frustrated surprise sometimes. 

Still, I allowed myself a brief feeling of power and a gloating grin when I got the Wordle in two tries.  As if, just for a moment, there was a tiny crack in the universe and I slipped through briefly to a plane of unlimited manifestation.

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