One of the fun little exercises I’ve been engaged in is testing the idea that all one has to do to have the future one wants to have is to manifest that mother, manifestation being one of those quite popular terms among the self helpers and coaches of the world, and we won’t get into the coaches, who are probably pretty valuable for things like basketball, but not life, but we aren’t going there.
We’re not going to manifest that.
At any rate, that was one of those things a person with whom I used to interact always claimed, was that all she had to do was visualize the future she wanted and she could make it so, it was why her life was so perfect in every way, except for all of those ways in which it was not, and all I had to do to make my life perfect was to visualize and manifest.
V and M.
And pretty strict rationalist that I am, I thought mostly that it was really poor use of language, that clearly, if one wanted to make something so, one did indeed actually have to put in a little effort into it, that visualization certainly was useful in the planning stages of any endeavor, but one also had to do a little work in terms of actually realizing one’s goals. There’s not any magic to it, something that person with whom I used to interact figured out, bigly, when things beyond her control changed, drastically, and her manifestation of not quite perfection fell right apart.
And that’s just it, something those folks writing their best sellers about how to have the perfect life (never mind that they were mostly born into money and went off to school and got their degrees in psychology and now they’re sitting home writing books about how to manifest your destiny, despite the fact they haven’t a f**king clue, and would be starving if not for that born into money and well educated thing) fail to incorporate in chapter twenty three, is that there are always all sorts of unforeseen factors, things beyond one’s control, and that one can no more manifest her destiny around those things than the earth can avoid a volcanic eruption.
However, being the opened minded lass that I am, one not quite so far gone with rationalism as to reject the possibility of magic, I decided to think about manifesting the destiny of a communal food production space here a few years ago, just for grins. What the heck, I didn’t have anywhere to go.
I produced the gardens, planted the trees, modified the house a bit. I was thinking young couples, perhaps, I’d get them started financially, and eventually, they could turn this place into a self supporting transition hub into the future. I could will it to them and die happy. Or better yet, I could get so inspired, I’d run off and start nice little suburban food producing communes all over the place, spread peace and love and happiness, transition the land, nay, the world!
Ah well. The world didn’t cooperate, it often does not, I wasn't very good at recruiting youngsters. The folks I invited to stay weren’t interested. Food production for one sucks, the meager offerings to the food bank were dwarfed by the trucks trucking food in there, mostly the work on the land was for fun. At least I entertained myself, I guess. There’s a madman in the White House, the country is on the brink of civil war, and the response of the people seems to be to have another beer and see what’s on Channel 342. Watching what’s on in the suburbia channel depresses me almost as much as the daily news. It’s time to change the channel.
Time to manifest a new destiny, I guess. Or try to. A body’s gotta try.