It may not seem like much — a $1.50 notebook that I scribble in — but it is a powerful tool.
It’s my magical manifesting notebook.
“Manifesting” is an overused word in woo circles, but bear with me.
I’m a believer in the power of thought and how our daily practice guides our life. However, my brain has a mind of her own, and it’s a task just to get her to settle down. Sure, there are things I want in my life — both material and non — but until I focus and get clear, not much happens. Or…it does happen but I’m too scattered or grasping for the next, the next, the next and don’t notice the arrival.
Thus, the notebook. Once I sit with my coffee and start to write, it…solidifies things. I’ve always been connected to ink on a page that both calms and directs my mind. I re-read, speak it aloud and feel it in my bones. I tweak and ask myself, Is this what I really want? I get clear. I notice what I resist, even if I think I desire it.
But I don’t ask: I claim. That’s bold. I was raised to ask — beg, more like — to a God who seemed loving on the outside but punishment lurked somewhere around the corner. Do this, and maybe you’ll get that. Live a good life and be “saved” and you’ll inherit the kingdom of heaven. Screw up, and all bets are off.
I claim, as Florence Scovel Shinn says, all that is mine by Divine right. As soon as I do that, a part of me jumps up and says, Who are you to ask that? How DARE you!
That voice could be from my Christian past. Could be that I was born a woman. Could be that I feel like I don’t deserve the spoils of this life for whatever reason or karma. It’s similar to how I felt the other day when gifts flooded out of my mailbox. Overwhelmed, a little nervous — like when I was a child and after unwrapping my presents, I’d hide the most precious ones in my bedroom closet, afraid that my brothers’ grubby hands would find them or that I’d open the door the next morning and they’d mysteriously be gone.
But it’s a new world everyday — isn’t it? A new world in the games we play as humans. This whole world is a playground and I’m leaning towards the energy of benevolence that directs it. Call it God/dess, Source, People, You There, Divine Ones — they’re all about benevolence. I use my magical book and note the beautiful things that arrive: a sense of peace, sales on Amazon, writing that flows, food in my fridge. Everything. Gratitude is a huge piece, too — and I can feel invisible heads nodding like, you’re getting it, Raven and maybe even a refrain of good-natured laughter.
They’ve always been about benevolence — it’s up to me to take the blinders off my work horse, the one that plods in a circle believing that I only get what I deserve and I don’t deserve much.
Benevolence. When I type that, I see “beloved” and “violence” and “benefit” and “lovely” within the letters. Which one do I believe?
It’s not the notebook. It’s me, tuning my thoughts to a softer channel. And damn if it doesn’t work!
Benevolence. Benevolence. All this for 2014 and beyond.