“Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.” Ralph Waldo Emerson.
It’s all about intentions.
Do you remember when you were single and were “on the prowl”? Many thousands of years ago, before I was married, I remember going out with the intention of finding a female with low enough standards to hang out with me. Who wouldn’t want to chill out with a single, nerdy, boozy, insecure, awkward guy like me? I was a catch. I would stand at the back of bars (or when I was truly slumming, clubs – see: white men can’t dance), and magically emanate desperation vibes. The women picked up on this and responded by circumnavigating around me to get to the bar and avoiding my puppy dog glares. (Note: never glare. It’s creepy.)
But then of course, whenever I was lucky enough to snag a temporary hostage love bunny, all of a sudden there was lots of interest in me. It was if something shifted. The fact that I was no longer looking, that I was feeling confident about myself, and that I was no longer engaging in flag semaphore d’amour brought about a change in my vibe. I felt that I was still the same person, but there was a different energy about me. I knew that because of how others responded.
I mention this because I realize the power of intention goes beyond simple dating (isn’t it all just now “swipe left”?) What I didn’t know then and I know now is that my intention was misplaced. When my intention was to better myself, to be myself completely, to be relaxed in my own skin, then the attraction was there. This also went for non-romantic relationships as well. Friendships were forged on the anvil of authenticity. The thin veils of disingenuity did not serve me well. When my intention was to be adored and fawned over, the opposite was manifested.
I have been opening myself up to new intentions as of late. And it hasn’t taken long for the universe to respond.
I have been struggling with my writing for a while now. I blog once every three to four weeks now. I used to blog several times a week at one point. My podcasts are often one every two months. It’s been a struggle to tap into my voice, and to mine the thoughts and emotions trapped in the salt stores below. It’s been a challenge to sit and actually write without poisoning myself beforehand with negative and self-sabotaging thoughts. I know that deep down I am meant to write. It’s not that I can’t write, but I have fostered a difficult relationship with it – an artistic stalemate with my creative self.
A friend mentioned how The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron was helpful to him. I had heard of the now-classic book, but never actually read it. So I ordered it. The next day, I was starting my morning pages. Morning pages are just that – three pages written in longhand, first thing in the morning. The idea is to have uncensored thoughts put down, in the effort to foster the artist child within, and to help break down any resistance to the creative energy within. I also do affirmations. I have meditated on this as well, and have made the concrete intention to attend to my writing from now on. I made a firm decision to make a commitment to my commitment in building my writer self up. To loosen up. Doubling down on my need to create.
Since that I made that internal declaration, I have had some events cross my path. I had a writer friend invite me into an informal writing circle. I was recommended another book by yet another writer friend who said that the introduction reminded her of me (which is correct, after purchasing the book and reading it), and which is helping me to navigate my creative path. At the library, the very first book I picked up in the writing section contained a postcard inside, which mentioned a launch (I am assuming a book launch) – something that I will be having in a few months after my book is published. I also found out an old acquaintance had just written a book in his field of expertise – math. I purchased that book as well as a sort of psychic energy investment. Also, I dig math books.
These are small signs, but signs nonetheless. I take them as markers along the path, to show the way, to indicate that my feet are moving in the right direction. It shows that perhaps I am honouring what needs to be honoured. I am frightened in one way, but excited in another. What I am aware of it that the newness and novelty will wear off and that I will be mired in the mess of me and will understand that I will have to navigate through that. I have always been a brilliant starter of things, and a poor finisher. Getting through the muck, halfway, is where I traditionally have fled, looking for the new shiny thing to spark my interests.
That is where the real work will be – sticking with it, even when I don’t want to. And that is where the morning pages help. Regardless of what my mood is, the pages get done. It’s good practice for when I don’t “feel like” doing anything. Stories and books aren’t created by mood. They are built on work. Any creative endeavor is moulded by ass-in-chair or ass-in-studio drudgery and grind. They say that in recovery we trudge the road of happiness. There is no destination – the road is the journey itself. And that is creative work as well. It’s the process rather than the finished work which is what speaks to me. Of course completing pieces is important, but I don’t get there without pushing my way through the tough stuff, the pull towards not doing the work.
Author and illustrator Matthew Inman created a popular running comic strip / book which talks about the Blerch. The Blerch is a fat cherub who follows him while running. The Blerch is lazy. It will talk you out of running. It will taunt you while you’re out on your jog. It will beg you to take a nap before going, maybe have some snacks instead. It questions why you run in the first place. It insists that watching TV would be more fun. I know this Blerch well. Everyone has a Blerch in one more aspects of their lives. Mine likes to point out the softer, easier way of doing things. It follows me when I run as well, but it also enjoys lingering over me when I am at the keyboard or when I hover my pen over my notebook. It likes to entice me with the idea of watching martial arts clips on YouTube or eating a plate of lasagna. Or going to bed early.
The wonderful thing about intentions is that it helps to swat the Blerch away. It diminishes the impact of the inner critic, the censor, the voices which conspire to remove me away from what serves me. The Blerch’s voice is stronger when things are tough, but that is when I start to lean on my intentions. Intentions, by the way, need to be bold and brazen, engraved in marble like a monument plaque. Half-hearted nonsense can walk its way out the door. This is Chuck-Norris-planting-the-butt-of-his-rifle-into-the-dirt-beside-his-boots type declarations. The only way that the seeds of change can blossom within (the subconscious) and without (the Universe) is through a charged thought, an electrified motive. One that is in sync with our authentic self. Otherwise there is no change.
I have made these intentions with cutting out sugar, with my running, with my workouts, and with my work. Once I have set them in motion, the current carries them. I find the time, the energy, the focus to manifest them. “Things” happen around me. Promotions, weight loss, increased mobility, stronger family relationships, etc. These are born out of a proclamation to put things in order. To strengthen what is weak.
So my intentions are there. I want to work on my writing. I also want to change my career. For some reason, my instinct tells me that working on the writing may have an impact of some sort in my career change. Not necessarily that I will write for a living (I’m not that mad! Sorry my darling writer friends!), but I think the process will help me to see that the improbable is more than likely if I attend to that vibration. But I know from experience that it starts with the intention. A decision to make the sacrifices needs to affect the shift. Writing it out daily embeds into into my DNA code, into my memory banks. It’s the new company logo.
I’m no longer on the prowl, but I am looking for that new catch, and that requires me to focus on me and where I can stretch and grow into a new dream. That’s what I intend to do.