Manifestation

 Manifestation

That word is often overused, but I want to use it anyway. Between Bruce Lipton and Neville Goddard, I’ve become almost persuaded that I need to build something like visionary scaffolding within my subconscious mind. This sounds easy—provided you know what I mean. I suppose I should explain.

I personally refer to it as setting the stage. I’ll try to explain what I mean. Imagine any act of a play, drama, or movie: before the actor appears to play the part scripted for them, the set should be ready and the script should be written. I believe I am starring in a drama of my own creation. This is not because I think there is no God or that I am God; it is because I believe I am an agent of God.

Agency is a mental state—like desires, beliefs, or fears—that causes the setting of stages, which in turn produces events suited to that stage.

I could go on, but I do not mean to make this more complicated than necessary.

I have never heard Neville Goddard or Bruce Lipton talk about agency, but this word works for me. That’s because I have been a real estate agent for over two decades. When I am out there working in the market, I feel as though I have free will, but I am actually acting on behalf of my broker, who is somewhat obligated to stand by my decisions. Again, I could over-explain this, and it could get boring quickly.

But I noticed something Goddard and Lipton would clearly agree on, and I will try to simplify it here:

They would both agree that something akin to hypnosis is the best way to change the environment. Instead of using the word environment, I am using the word stage.

Lipton uses walking as an example. Most people cannot remember learning to walk, but once that behavior is learned, it becomes hardwired as part of one’s daily functioning, and it is no longer necessary to think about it consciously. Where are the thoughts about walking stored?

That question is worth asking again: where are the thoughts about walking kept? They are in your subconscious mind.

Calling it a subconscious mind is nearly blasphemous. I think it is a superconscious mind.

Now, let’s go deeper.

We could probably all agree that the ability to drive a car comes from moving the thoughts about driving into a kind of “program file,” where it becomes the program we use for driving. It is not the same “app” we would use to sew a quilt. This part seems clear and not difficult to believe.

Where it gets strange is that driving a car requires a car—which is another program.

That’s right: a car is mental.

It’s interesting that we are comfortable with the idea that our ability to drive is a program, but many disagree if you suggest that a car is also a program.

But both of these ideas require an observer. Two things must happen in order for you to go driving:

1. You must believe you are able to drive.
2. You must believe there is a car and a road.

Of course, this is where it stops feeling right. We think the car and the road are there—but not because we say so.

Everything about this “dream” requires the desktop of belief. If you believe you have a Ford in the garage, you won’t find an Oldsmobile there when you look. This is not because of the Ford itself or its determination; it is because your belief about the Ford has hardened into fact.

I am not going to spend a lot of time on this right now, but I want to get to one thing anyone can do to test it:

In a very relaxed state of mind, you can imagine.

Yes, it is that simple. Children are very good at this. We were good at it when we were children, too. Charles Schulz drew Snoopy as a dog who believed he was a World War I flying ace. Schulz used this idea to give us insight into the imagination.

To me, as someone who enjoyed watching Snoopy live out his fantasy on his doghouse, it seemed like a little dog with a wild imagination. But to Snoopy, it was serious—he had a very real enemy: the Red Baron.

During a relaxed state, Snoopy may have imagined being the flying ace of his dreams. But when he climbed onto his doghouse with his goggles and scarf, he was a flying ace.

Where did Snoopy get a plane? The same place you get a Ford.

You may think I am being silly or speaking hypothetically, but I am actually speaking seriously: reality is a drama being developed by our beliefs, which were once only desires, assumptions, or fears.

And we already know we cannot change things consciously—even if we believe this to be true. If that were possible, I could walk through a wall—but I cannot.

So what can be done about a wall I would like to walk through? I could imagine a door there.

Could I be hypnotized into believing there was a door and then walk through the wall? No—I would hit it just the same. Why doesn’t that work? Because the collective was never made aware of it, and therefore the wall remains reinforced by other agents. However, persistence does pay off.

“Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints.” —Ephesians 6:18 (KJV)

Supplication is asking. Prayer stimulates the imagination, and imagination stimulates the setup. Perseverance means persistence. “All saints” represents the collective.

Fundamentalists say saints are believers, but I would argue that everyone is a believer—believing what they believe.

So, I hope you don’t mind me rewriting that verse as I see it:

“Imagine in your most relaxed state. Ask for what you desire in that state. Then watch and expect change. Be persistent, and believe others will align with the realization of your vision.” —MCV

Now, back to the wall I would like to walk through. All I need to do is imagine a door there. I need to relax and see myself walking through that door. I need to imagine others going along with this change, and I need to persist in that vision.

Eventually, a door will appear.

It will likely develop in a reasonable way—but when it does, don’t forget that it was once only a dream of a door where a solid wall stood.