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the Disbelief


ˌmanəfəˈstāSH(ə)n,ˌmanəˌfesˈtāSH(ə)n/ noun

an event, action, or object that clearly shows or embodies something,

especially a theory or an abstract idea.

I am always looking for a great book to read. I found out some of my Oak Island, yogi friends were reading E2 by Pam Grout about manifesting your intentions.

Small 48 hour experiments for even the most steadfast skeptic.

I should probably start by telling you, God and I have been at odds for many years now after watching and praying about my mother's alcoholism and spiraling bipolar disorder.

I even got on my knees once...

"Please God, let her understand how she is hurting us. Help her find the power to fight this. Bring her back to us." I prayed and prayed. My father told me that my prayers weren't being answered because I didn't truly give them to God. There was doubt in my heart. Well no shit. I had to clean my mother up out of her own vomit more than once.

But I still prayed.

To no avail...

I waited and hoped. Hung onto those threads of lucid, engaging moments with my mother like lifelines tethering me to a hopeful reality. Teasing me really.

In the end, she let us four children down. She lied and cheated and manipulated her way through life, slowly alienating everyone who loved her until she died alone from a heartattack, way too early.

So I clung to a new belief.

That I, alone, created my life. I could chose to live a life of excuses of not being my best self based on my past

or be a ray of sunshine for others in their darkest days.

I chose LIFE.


And I thrive...

but there is always this lingering doubt.

A doubt that I deserve what my heart desires.

I have been pushing, forcing, asking, begging and negotiating for a new yoga space at the shore. Each piece of property is more discouraging than the last. But having been around this block before with the securing of my last studio, I only banged my head on a wall a few times before I realized...

I cannot force the universe.

When I let go last time, my space just showed up.

Right there, literally in front of my face.

So for a second time, I let go. I had faith that good things happen to good people. "It" WILL happen when it is supposed to.

And I believed that this time.

I stopped focusing on my own studio and offered to help out a friend at the local Rec Center cover some yoga classes. I just wanted to be back on my mat. While working out the logistics of which classes I would help with, I spoke to another mutal friend at the Farmer's Market that week about my plans. She immediately told me I needed contact a girl named Michelle who was a Pilates instructor.

I reached out.

She had just lost her yoga partner.

She has a studio!

She wants to share it with me!

With ME!

I met with Michelle to make plans and she said...

I have to tell you something. I don't know if you believe in this kind of thing, but I am reading this book E2 (the second time I had heard this title in two weeks). Its a manifestation experiment...

and I asked for a new partner.

Well here I am!

She was amazed

and humbled

and ever so grateful

(we are two peas in a pod)

that the "experiment" worked!

We both got goosebumps.

So now I HAD to buy this book!

I am done waiting for the universe to send me what I need.

It's time. My time.

I started reading.

Let me preface what I'm about to tell you...

I believe.

Most days...

But here is the catch.

I doubt sometimes...


Whether it is self esteem or those pentacostal teachings of humbleness or greed...

there is always a tiny seed of unworthiness or doubt deep in my heart.

(Refer back to knee bent pleas over my mother).

But I was ready to give this E2 experimentation a try!

As a child, I remember spending sun soaked days down at The Point on Oak Island. It was a peaceful time. We swam and sailed and threw sand and chased gulls. If we needed our mother, we could always find her knee deep off the sand bars with a bucket full of sand dollars and one of shark's teeth.




Buckets full!

So here I was.

Remembering that I had never found a whole sand dollar on the island. There were only pieces that teased that they were just beyond my reach.

And, of course, my mother had found hundreds of them.

(So can I)

So I casted my net so to speak.

"I will find a whole sand dollar today."

I went to The Point. I sat and enjoyed my view where the Intercoastal Waterway meets the vast ocean. I talked with a friend. I prepared my paddle board for an evening ride.

I guess I was giving the universe ample time to get that sand dollar and put it in a place where I was sure to find it.

And I said my intention over and over.

Out loud and in my heart.

In my mind...

and again out loud for good measure.

I nudged my friend...

it was time.

As if I was professing to the universe... "Wake up.

I am ready for my gift from the sea".

We headed right to the sand bars. Got down on our knees and began to dig. We laughed and played and talked.

(No need to doubt right?).

That's what the book says.

We dug for at least an hour...

dug to China,

pulled embedded shells out of our knees and rubbed our sore backs.

No sand dollar.

So I decided it was time to take a walk.

(Surely if the universe didn't bury my sand dollar in the exact location I chose to dig, it would just be lying out in the open on the beach for me to find...

despite the other 400 beachcombers out that day).

It WAS just waiting for me.

We walked...

I professed...

I didn't cling...

I only doubted a tiny bit...

as the sun started setting.

Soon we would take to water and paddleboard a bit. How long could I encourage my friend to be patient with the universe?

In all fairness

(I told myself),

you ARE supposed to allow 48 hours for your manifestation to be revealed to you.

It had been what, 4 hours?

But I have never been known to be patient.

We walked the sandbars and dodged crabs. I stopped "looking" for my treasure/gift from the sea. I just rationalized and schemed how I would find time to get back out to The Point within my 48 hour window.

I didn't make excuses or lay blame or chastise a busy "universe". I just decided it was time to enjoy my day and stop searching.

It would COME to me.

That's what the book said...

I didn't need to search for it.

(That was my Type A kicking in)

So as we rounded the last sandbar and casually discussed our children, I ventured toward the water to rinse the sand from my hands,

one last time before paddleboarding.

The slow ebbing wave eased out to be part of it whole again.


in the sand...

poking out just a bit..

Oh my god!



I reached down.

Rubbed my fingers over the knobby exterior.

Its color brillant.

Buried almost fully.

I dropped to my knees and had to tug to free it from its grainy home...

It seemed as if it wanted to stay

and again become part of the earth from which it came.

On my knees,

(once again in my life...)

The Universe spoke to me.

Not a whisper.

Not a reassurance.

It bulldozed me!


and I cried.


This was not my sand dollar.

My friend looked confused.

I could not speak.

I rinsed it, turned it over,

rubbed and loved my channeled welk.

My friend offered to place it in our bag and I refused.

To hold it for me...

I refused.

This moment was undeniably one of the most profound in my life.

I held my friend's hand...

then began to explain when I saw his confused gaze.

"When I set my intention upon the universe earlier that day, there was a streaking thought."

"I wish I could find a large conch."

"But I never find them whole or even bigger than a finger. Not ever."


I will ask for a sand dollar. My mother found millions here. I WILL find a sand dollar today."

And so my mantra went...

It was a self assuring way that I knew the Universe WOULD NOT,

COULD NOT let me down.

But here I was,

on my knees holding the largest conch I have ever seen, let alone found, in its natural habitat.




The Universe told me loud and clear...

"You deserve everything!"

"Never doubt me!"

Be Yoga.


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