Greetings from
The Publisher . . .
Manifesting Brings Many Surprises
What a month it's been—and what a lesson in manifesting in teamwork with others.
I've wanted to change my living environment for a while now, but it always seems there are other things to do. There were several reasons that converged about the same time that finally got me going. One was just being tired of it not being the way I pictured it could be. But it didn't begin with frustration. It began with a focus on what I wanted and a question. In a discovery mode I wondered if I could have the distractions and move ahead anyway? Did I have to all pieces in place first, or could I begin with a goal and simply take a step at a time? Would the pieces fall into place?
Getting rid of the carpets was a priority. Every time I cleaned them, either the chemicals bothered me or they seemed to take forever to dry. To get rid of them, though, I noticed that the paneling on the walls, a tongue-in-groove wood that came out about 2 inches from the drywall underneath it, needed to go first—along with the popcorn ceiling. I told a friend that my walls and ceiling were coming down and I was in the process of deciding what my new ceiling and footing would be. She responded that I just described her life. It seemed like that.
It was fascinating to discover that once the paneling was gone, several of the walls were temporary, not permanent. Could smaller rooms join to form a bigger space? What would that look like? What kind of floor would be good? Knowing I lack good color sense, it came to me that it might be a good idea to ask someone who actually knew about these things. Just might.
Before I had time to inventory resources, an email pinged in that told me about Liv Kellgren's business, Conscious Environments. “From paint to color palate, to Environmental Psychology and to Feng Shui and Interior Redesign”—I saw she included all the right things. Looking at consciousenvironments.com I saw her work and thought it too good—and coincidental—to ignore.
Then I found that Liv rhymes with Steve—and that had to be a good sign—it must mean something. She immediately put me to work writing what my dream environment would be like.
I did that, we met and the project seemed to take on a life of it's own, moving quickly. I have two friends, for instance, whom I thought could give me ideas—Ken Brooks, an architect from AZ, and Larry Hawes, a building contractor, who lives near me.
When Ken came to town in a month I would ask him to come by with Larry. Talking to Larry I discovered Ken would be in town the next week. I saw I was not in charge of the timing. They both came by the next Saturday and had some great ideas and answers we needed.
I started to notice that the things Liv and I aligned on doing popped in quickly and I thought about the power of aligning with others on a common goal. When I “accidentally” ran across an old article about the elements of manifestation I decided to read and reread it. We were on track.
Different areas were taking shape and then Liv had to go to Minnesota for two weeks. We got together before that to prioritize what could be done while she was gone. She told me she thought I should start with the kitchen. “First take out the trash compactor. Get rid of it.” Then remove the carpets in the dining area next to the kitchen. Then remove the carpets in my office. We had already talked about looking at countertops, flooring, cabinets, and even moving the gas stove to a new island. As she left, she mentioned I might consider putting a door in my office instead of a window so I could step into the garden from my office.
Now to call it a garden right now is a stretch, but that's what it's like working with Liv. Just when all the changes look a little overwhelming to me she mentions something I said I wanted in the beginning or comes up with something even better, that's inspiring. So she leaves me with the inspiration—not the considerations of how and when.
Even though I knew we seemed to be pulling things in that we agreed on almost overnight, this time, however, I found myself beginning to wonder if this meant she would be gone two months instead of two weeks. My office has two bookcases, four file cabinets and well, way too much stuff to mention. It would take me forever to remove everything to uncover the carpet.
But over and over with this, I've noticed that as soon as I let go of my idea that the next step was a really big step—an overwhelming step— instead of simply another step, things flow. Instead of thinking I had to know how to handle the next step, it became a game of wondering how the next piece would be accomplished. Who would show up?
As overwhelming as all the things she “left for me” looked, I could see how well everything was working. So I remembered the game of it. I still didn't know how to get it done, but I was ready to be surprised. I went to the Del Mar Fair thinking that I might get some good home ideas there. When I returned, I got my surprise.
A water line under the kitchen sink had leaked and flooded the kitchen floor and dining room carpet. When I walked into my office, below the kitchen I was horrified. My laptop had a puddle of water on top of it. My office carpet was flooded, along with one bookcase, half my desk, and banker's boxes. Part of the ceiling was on top of the TV. One phone was destroyed and a tape recorder connected to it that I use for interviews was full of water.
I knew right way I would stop using the expression “I'm swamped,” when people asked how I was. Then I wiped off the computer and it worked. I noticed that the side of the desk with my rolodex and TLC checkbook was dry, i.e., very labor intensive things to recreate. On the wet side of my desk were more easily replaceable items and junk mail. The bookcase that was hit by the insulation that fell from the ceiling destroyed replaceable books. The TV was fine. The banker's box that was hit the worst was one that needed to be tossed anyway.
Unbelievable as it is, I returned from the Fair with sponges. I saw an infomercial on TV and then saw the same demo at the fair, which included putting the sponge on top of a wet carpet, and having it absorb water without applying any pressure. I bought some, but then wondered driving home if I really needed so many. I figured they could replace paper towels. They did! I also put the sponges down on the carpet and “without pressure” filled up two buckets of water.
It was obviously too big a job for me. The insurance company called in a crew to dry things out. When they left they took some of the cabinets and 1/2 the kitchen and dining floor with them—that uncovered a gas line exactly where Liv suggested I put an island. Did I mention that the first thing they took out was the trash compactor? I was beginning to wonder if Liv had left then a note.
They emptied my office of all the file cabinets and boxes, and the etc., dried out the rug and removed carpet pads. One wall in my office was soaked and they removed the paneling, dry wall and insulation, which left me with a wall of studs and black paper. It was the same wall that Liv suggested I put a door—meaning it's now ready to change.
Any new things like that I will need to pay for, but all of a sudden I also have help from the insurance company for repairs. I'm redoing my budget.
Liv had not even left town yet, so we met again. I told her not to wave her magic wand too widely this time, as I had a lot to do already. I think I'm doing this?
As you can imagine, pain or at least change is involved. Things are everywhere, not back together, I can't find anything and there's an ad in the classifieds for an assistant. At the same time, I see I only have on my desk what I really need. I'm discovering what I don't need. I just didn't want to do this overnight, but, I see it's hard to give up the control of when/how it's done—let go and let God—and then think it will happen on my terms. It does has a life of it's own. We focused and kept remembering what direction we wanted to go in.
An example from the article I found (and will reprint later) demonstrates the process. From time to time we all contact the parking-lot divas for a parking space. We don't think of it as overwhelming—it's not a huge need or “have-to”—it's a parking space! We're looking for something better and we can do that. We start with a sense of equality and play, wondering where it will appear (not controlling it). Focusing on the spot appearing, we align ourselves with that part of the universe where a spot does exit—we explore—and when it happens we're filled with appreciation and awe—or it doesn't happen again right away.
It's a fun example that contains the elements for manifesting—and I realize, the elements that Liv and I have talked about during this remodel—formerly called, “taking out the rugs.” The project continues; and I'm continually amazed, in awe, and very appreciative of this co-creation. Thank you Liv, and every one who has popped in “unexpectedly” right on time.
Hope your month is as amazing as mine was,
Steve
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