Category: manifesting



Every January we go through traditions. Many choose the New Year to make resolutions to quit habits or institute new ones. A friend and I have used our New Years to write up possibilities. We feel resolutions are made to be broken whereas if you think ahead and wish to do better or see changes in your life you should write them down. They aren’t necessarily predictions, though they could work out that way, but rather shine a new light on our lives. The only prediction that comes out of this is as a counselor once told me: The best predictor of future behavior is past behavior. And of course, then continued with the solid advice that the only way that changes is if a person has hurt enough from that behavior and wants a change from deep in their soul.

When we see little changes happening for the better, they can put on the label of possibility.

I want to thank Linda G. Hill for asking for prompts for these Just Jot It January blogs. I had to take the time to think of what I wanted to put my thoughts and predictions. I will keep private my possibilities as I think it spoils the silent work I put into them if I share. Thank you, everyone, who used my prompt of Prediction. It’s been fun to see what you came up with.

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Move Made Manifest


At last, the “iffy” trip and the “iffy” purchase of the acre and the double wide mobile have manifested. I’m sitting in my office/studio/escape looking out my window and seeing miles and miles of sagebrush. I can see little tiny hills far, far away and I can see the horizon. And the sky above goes on forever with feather clouds here and there.

As I sit here I can think of all the times I wondered if this was really going to happen. All the things that could go wrong did go wrong. They made me doubt that I should do this. They made me determined to try harder, but I didn’t want to press the gods that made this happen. What if I were to find out that I’m not supposed to do this? But what if this is exactly what I’m supposed to do? And I go around in circles with this batch of questioning. Still, I was packing boxes and packing boxes and packing boxes.

You see the two-bedroom apartment cave that I lived in before cost me over double what we will pay for this place. Our lease was up and we knew we wouldn’t be able to afford to live in that cave another moment.

In spite of how small the place was, we filled a van that should take a three-bedroom home and still had so much more to figure out how to get it here, or if we should toss it. And that was with C’s son moved out. His bed was the sofa and that was his sofa. So where do we get all this stuff? And how did the place get so dirty? Well, 2+ years in bed basically. And of course, we all know that nobody else cleans except the woman of the house. The pain of the fibro and the depression and the social anxiety all of the bundled up for those two years and all I could do was lay in bed. I tried to get out. I wanted to see friends but when I got to the day of doing it. I’d hit a flare. But this summer was different. I felt better. I got to go on a couple road trips. I got to go swimming. Whatever made me feel better, I am so thankful for it. The “iffy” trip gave me hope, gave me something to live for. And here I am, ready or not!

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