We went to a wake for hub's 93 year old landlord. She was a real firecracker and he loved her. She lived her entire life in our very small town - in the very same house in fact. And although this information got hubs all wet eyed about small town life, it made me want to move now.
I flashed ahead to a time when I could be laid out in that same room, except no one would have ever heard of me, people would be all - who? how long did she live here? that long?? hmm I never even noticed her. what house? oh her - she was the one with the Kerry sign and the ... dandelions.
want need to move folks.
So I start affirming for the right house. I don't make a vision board and get all focused on the details (although I do waste half a day on pinterest) - I am not trying to manipulate anything here. I know that the unwritten subtitle to the book The Secret is The Secret to More Karma. This is too big a deal to get what we want and then figure out we don't want it.
I release a personal focus - I affirm this move to be in the best interest of all concerned. I call in divine order - I know that our ideal home is out there for us as well as the ideal buyers for our home.
I mentally return my home to the universal flow so someone else can line up with its vibration easily.
I detach from the outcome - detachment is the most important part in all of this - this creates space for creation.
So now we are fixing up our house, which is going to be a process (notice I didn't say this is going to be a lot of work, because I don't really want to put that in writing although I guess I just did ... probably because this is going to be a lot of work) because we have let things slide around here. But I know there is some other woman, maybe on pinterest right now, imagining it - I don't want to let her down.
For those who don't believe in this manifesting stuff I want to offer up the following story that also happened this week as proof.
I really hate the word ma'am. I think we all do. I am not sure why. Maybe because it sounds too much like damn or spam or mammogram. Visions of dentures and bobby pins and someone gently holding my elbow and guiding me down the stairs always pops into my head.
It makes me feel like the human equivalent
of a wilted corsage.
I mean, do you think Joan Jett would put up with this crap?! I might have to take somebody down!
There is a local restaurant where the waiters and waitresses always say this - drives me nuts (note- they call hubs "sir" and he loves it). I think "sir" would drive me nuts, too. I would have to think of it in a "to sir, we love" (great movie) kind of way if I were him.
We went there this week and before I went in, I did a little silent release of my annoyance at this word - we can only change ourselves after all. I thought about how the letters could be rearranged into mama and I loved that word, so I just imagined ma'am as someone actually calling me mama as in red hot mama, of course.
The waiter approached our table and I'm thinking red hot mama, red hot mama - and the waiter says "Hello folks. Sir, what would you and the young lady like to start with?"
I spit water all over the place.
(and yes, this did kind of make me feel like I was out to dinner with my grandfather and about to order myself a rootbeer float and some mcnuggets, but proof is proof folks and at least I didn't have to start a brawl and do one of those Jersey Housewives table-flips we all learn here in nursery school - although that would have given the town something to remember me by)
Next week I will get back to my money series and some Etsy stuff I've been procrastinating posting about. Have a nice weekend everyone! xo