I have been spending a lot of time thinking and learning about manifesting lately. Really wanting your life to be different will do that to you…
Manifesting has been taught by spiritual teachers for ages but is enjoying particular popularity among the abundance of self-proclaimed spiritual gurus that can be found in the media these days.
In case this concept has somehow escaped you, manifesting, in a spiritual sense, is basically the process of getting your mental/emotional/spiritual energy in alignment with what you truly want to have/do/feel in your life, and then trusting that this energetic alignment with the Universe / God will allow your desires — a relationship, a home, a job, wealth, health, etc — to flow to you.
It’s a powerful, compelling concept, and the media is overflowing with stories of its success. Some might lean towards the more “woo woo” perspective of trusting one’s spiritual guides, whereas some might be more comfortable just calling it positive thinking — but whatever you call it, it’s clear that it’s worked wonders for some people. (A sampling of resources here, if you are keen to explore.)
I admit I’ve found a great deal of comfort in the manifesting process lately. There is something that my husband, kids and I really, really want — a big, international move away from where we currently live and work in Turkey — but the biggest piece of the puzzle — my husband’s job — is not something that’s in my personal power to make happen. At least not in an obvious way. Applying manifesting concepts has gone a long way in making me feel better and more empowered about a situation that had been making me feel sad and helpless.
I’ve been applying the powers of positive thinking, of course. And that definitely feels good.
But I was also looking for something to DO. Not in a “manic manifesting” kind of way, but just in a concrete, productive feeling kind of way.
So I’ve been tidying up. Decluttering. Having a clear out. Becoming a minimalist. Clearing a path, as I’ve come to like calling it. Whatever you call it, it’s just what I needed.
“Any gambler knows, the secret to survival is knowing what to throw away and knowing what to keep.”
Kenny Rogers
When we moved here it was with a lot of baggage, literally and figuratively. Of course, before leaving London I had gotten rid of some things I knew we wouldn’t need — baby equipment, school uniforms, furniture we didn’t really like. But I brought a lot — a LOT — of stuff with us just in case. Spare toiletries and medicines, more clothes and shoes and coats than we need, favorite foods, books, toys, photos, CDs, extra linens, the list goes on.
I’ll freely admit this was motivated by fear — I was intimidated by this move because I had spent just enough time in Turkey to know what I didn’t like, and I wanted to try to recreate the comforts of “home” as best as possible. It really was a lot of stuff, and it wasn’t easy unpacking it all when we arrived whilst also trying to acclimate and also entertain the kiddos during the long, hot weeks before school started and far away from the helping hands we had enjoyed whilst visiting family in America or amongst friends in London.
But I can’t say that I really regret it, because that stuff has served its purpose.
Perhaps if I were a different (kind of) person I would have been braver or more pragmatic about moving without so many creature comforts, but I simply am not built that way. Having “supplies” has always made me feel prepared when venturing into the unknown. (See also my freshman year college dorm room, or the diaper changing bag I carried when venturing out and about with our firstborn.)
But as I — hopefully, optimistically, proactively — am preparing our household for another move, editing our stuff makes me feel energized and empowered and READY. Ready to see the opportunity when it comes, and to seize it. To leap.
Perhaps as I am maturing (my four-year-old daughter likes to point out the white streaks emerging in my blonde hair; I prefer to think of them as special highlights 😉 ) I have a better sense that all we really need is inside us. A deeper understanding that holding on to things holds us back. A conviction that our stuff is there to serve us — and if it’s not serving us there is no (really, NO) need to have it.
This has been a big revelation for me — I resisted releasing stuff for a long time because having stuff made me feel prepared. But I had too much stuff because I didn’t know what I wanted to be prepared for. And I realize now that it was probably holding me back from really having the very adventures I wanted to be so well prepared for.
Now I have a better idea. But I’m also getting rid of the stuff I’m not sure about because I don’t want my decisions about life’s direction to be dictated by the stuff I already have.
The space in which we live should be for the person we are becoming now, not for the person we were in the past.
Marie Kondo
I am enjoying — relishing really — the process of combing through our “supplies.” Thinking about what we want to use to build our new life. Clearing a path to get there.
Because we have this sense that it’s for real this time, that we are ready.
Early on in our relationship, we were “accidental expats” — when we arrived in London from New York we had been together as a couple for only a few months, really, and thought we would live in London for a year. It was thrilling at first, with all the exploring and experiencing. But it also meant that somehow — despite that passage of twelve years, our wedding vows, becoming dual citizens, birthing our three children — we never really lost that “temporary” or “outsider” mentality, never felt really, totally settled.
We can see in our kids that it’s time now to settle down, at least for a while. We love that they have experienced living in a few places in their short lives. And we want to continue this spirit of exploration — and expanded perspective — through travel. But we can see — and they tell us, every day in some way — that they are ready to feel some roots, to feel supported by family and community beyond our little party of five.
So I am clearing our path. Making room. Lightening our load.
So that when we finally see our opportunity, we can leap and land right where we are meant to be.