Manifesting What You Want

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During finals week in college, the student council hosted "study breaks."  They were scheduled activities meant to entertain students and take their minds off the task at hand for a small amount of time. My junior year, the entertainer was some kind of mind reader.  The details elude me now, but the premise of the evening was to write a question on a notecard, put it in his jar and then he would pull out a card at random and give the recipient information without reading the question.  This was my first experience with the divine.  While it was meant to be entertaining, I knew he couldn't possibly know the information he was reciting without some type of intervention. It wasn't magic; some slight of hand.  It had to be the universe, and I was totally enthralled.  

Long story short, more than anything, I wanted him to call my name.  While writing my name and question on my card I concentrated intensely, and then, I pleaded.  I was pleading for God to give me a chance and pull my name from the pot.  I spent my time visualizing how I wrote my name on the card; the particular care in the A of Abby, and the color of the ink.  I envisioned how much it filled up the page, and how I folded the notecard.  Fifteen minutes went by and then thirty.  I was starting to fear that he would never draw my card.  I took a breath, refocused on what my card looked like and pleaded internally even more. The next card he drew was mine. 

He called my name and I could barely refrain myself from the excitement that I had some how willed this to happen.  He proceeded to do his "magic" and answer my question, which is irrelevant at this point in my life, but the lesson remains very clear.

When I am intentional about what I want and I believe in it wholeheartedly (less pleading, more believing), I will make it come true.  This has happened to me many times since that night. When I need to be reminded, I test the waters with some type of drawing contest. Jump forward to last week when cc and I were at the club for dinner.  We put our names in the pot for a chance to win a spin on the wheel of wonder. Again, I visualized my name, the black ink, how it looked on the paper, and stayed focused on that while the presenter was pulling a name.  I didn't doubt it. There were no self destructive thoughts of "I'm never going to win, or he won't draw my name..."  I was simply calm and visualizing.  Then, just like that, he pulled my paper and called my name.  My spin revealed the tennis hat I’m showing off above, but that wasn't the true gift.  The win was was the reminder that I have the power to manifest anything my heart desires. 

It's time to start thinking bigger.  I have bigger dreams, for example, than taking a spin around the wheel of wonder, but I am so grateful the universe reminded me that I have the power to conjure up anything.  I seem to have forgotten that as of late.   

What are you waiting for?  The universe gifts us all if we ask. Spend some time dreaming and scheming. Then make a vision board* or write/draw in a journal.  Get very clear about what your dreams look like. Meditate on that visual, believe wholeheartedly that it can be yours and then patiently wait for the universe to drop it into your lap.  Because I guarantee it will happen and you will be just as giddy as I was all those years ago. 

*…thinking about leading a vision board workshop. Interested? Let me know.

What Does Your Husband Do?

 My WIFE 

My WIFE 

Between moving to a new city last winter and P starting school this fall, meeting new people is a regular occurrence these days.  Moms group playdates and activities, new school events and parent meetings; it's a lot of telling our story over and over.  

Not that I mind.  I love the community we are being absorbed into and the new community we are forming at school.  It's what I want for us and for P; a village, a tribe.  Being able to call your neighbor when you have an emergency while traveling or the older couple asking you over for dinner or the relationships you are forming with other parents in the same season of life as you.  The endless meetings are worth it.  

But with every introduction, there is always a question that makes its way to the surface; what does your husband do? To say that I'm intensely private in an understatement.  I don't divulge a lot of information to strangers, mostly because of trust issues.  Being gay is a tidbit about me I have a hard time saying.  Maybe to remain safe (yes, I have been verbally harassed by a stranger), or perhaps to protect myself from the beliefs of the other person that I don't want to deal with.  Whatever the reason, I don't go around waving a rainbow flag so naturally this question arises.

Just last week I was enjoying a conversation with another dad in P's class.  And there it was; "What does your husband do?" asked several minutes into the conversation.  "I don't have a husband.  My wife and I own a machine shop," I say.  The shock and awe on his face was amusing to say the least.  Not sure if he was stupefied or in wonderment.  The look was synonomous.  Either way, it was a cringe worthy response.

The uncomfortableness that ensues in all of the responses is just plain awkward.  Some people are embarrassed they made an assumption.  Some people judge, and want to run as fast as they can.  However, most are remarkably couth and stick it out.  In the past this would bother me.  I worried way too much about other people's feelings.  Today is different.  Either I just don't care, or I want my son to know that it really isn't a big deal.  We are "normal" people after all.  I'm sure there will come a day when he corrects the stranger.  "She doesn't have a husband."  

I'm uncertain that answering this question will ever get easier, but it's who we are.  A lesbian couple with a son, a boy with two mothers, two women that love each other, and yes, are married!  I'm proud of my family and particularly proud of my spifner (spouse, wife, partner = a word we made up).  Those that are meant to be friends stick around anyway, and those that don't, don't.  Just like any other relationship.  

Why people keep asking this question is what I want to know.  I suppose it's just one of those oddities in life; we are a product of our cultural training.  Child = married to a man.  What if I were a single mother, a widow, a divorcee?  But that's a rabbit hole for another day.  

What does my husband do?  Well, she is a beautiful woman that does it all.  Wait until you meet her.  She's lovely.  

Galveston, oh Galveston...

 
 Hotel Galvez

Hotel Galvez

Glen Campbell made the song famous, but our interpretation differs after the first line.  We just returned from a quick juant to the gulf coast island and, yes, I can still hear your seawinds blowing. There is something refreshing and still about spending time with one's feet in the sand near the ocean.  My mind was so quiet I barely spoke a word all weekend.

P starts preschool this fall.  Five half days, so this trip was a good-bye to summer before he begins this week.  We gave the Hotel Galvez a try, but despite its historical draw, the results were disappointing. The beach, however, was a quick walk across the street and it never displeases.  Isn't it the sole reason for going to Galveston?  

 Getting their feet wet 

Getting their feet wet 

We walked the beach most nights during my favorite hour; twilight.  The light is even more stunning on the beach; always finding a way to make everything enchanting.  

 The Pleasure Pier at dusk

The Pleasure Pier at dusk

We typically opt for a house or condo rental on the opposite end of the island, away from the crowd.  However, with our trip being a short weekend we decided to stay in town and let someone else make the beds and do the cooking.  It was a good choice as it made for more beach and pool time.  

 My wife goofing off

My wife goofing off

There is nothing profound to say here about this trip, except for the importance of taking care of one's soul.  Sometimes you have to leave the familiar and drop your feet somewhere new with your family in tow.  We all needed a little time to explore the sand, soak up the last bits of sun for the summer and just be.

Glen Campbell is still on our air waves; P keeps asking for the Galveston song.  I don't object and if we close our eyes, we can still hear the waves.  My hope is that it will keeps us grounded these first few weeks of chaos.