Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree Tilt.

While in Daytona,  Maggie  Shayne  reminded  me  of one of the earliest lessons I had in magick—structuring reality…also known as manifestation.  It’s not that I had forgotten it. At this point in my spiritual path, it’s inherent in everything that I do, but I needed to be reminded of the process, how things move through reality, from the spiritual realm to the mental/emotional  realm to, finally, the physical realm that most people think of as “real.” It’s the process of coming into being as most of the human race understands “being.”

The Long-Awaited Honest-to-God Secret to Being Happy

The dream that I have for my life has moved through the first two  of the three phases but has not yet manifested in the physical. I can see it clearly and I’m moving toward it, birthing it into being. To manifest fully, it can- not skip these steps or go too quickly.

I realize, too, that my best relationships  with men in the past two years have been only in the first two phases, never coming  into the physical.  One or two may have been intensely emotional (the  mental realm) for me but they never came into form in such a way that  could be touched  and  defined  by  anyone  other  those  involved. Lack of physical manifestation does not make it any less real—it can be a spiritual  reality and an emotional  reality…it simply hasn’t become a physical reality.

Some things in life, as they manifest, take a long, long time to move through each of the phases. By the time they reach the physical realm,  they’re more likely to be long-lasting because they’ve been so fully  shaped  in the spiritual and mental aspects.

Other things move too fast in the first two realms and come into the physical very quickly but with no substance to go with their form. Those are the men I meet who instantly “poof” out on me.

But this  seems  to  be  the  week  for  men  physically manifesting around me…or not. I can feel the swirls of masculine energy as Spirit tries  to find a companion for me.

There was the man who seemed to have all of my criteria and yet was otherwise committed…or  at least, the woman in his life thought he was committed. Poof!

The second  man  to manifest  in the past  week  is a “dishy”  doctor my neighbor’s  been  trying  to introduce me to for the past six months. Something’s put me off in the past—intuition,  I suppose.  I’d heard all  about him: mid-thirties, cute, smart, productive. So far, so good. Recently divorced. Okay, good, at least no apparent wives hiding   in   the   shadows.   No   girlfriends,   though   my neighbor said he was dating  (translation:  sleeping  with) lots of nurses in their twenties who were impressed with his doctorhood and pay potential.

What sounded like a great idea to my neighbor manifested into something  entirely different,  something  that just went “Poof!”

Funny what a man will say when he’s been drinking. As it turns  out, “Dr. Dishy”  couldn’t  afford a quarter- tank of gas to get to the restaurant,  let alone dinner. He acknowledged that he was an alcoholic who lost his temper hourly, saw his kids only once a year, preferred escort services to anything emotional, was two years behind on child support,  and was in debt up to his  eyeballs—not from the three ex-wives or child support, but from gambling.


He had the image of success all around him, and he probably impresses the other docs at the golf club restaurant with talk about his practice, but his sheen of success isn’t even skin deep.

The third manifestation this week was a man I met in a rather unusual way. Actually, we never even met physically. Just on the phone and by email. It was one of those things where a business conversation with a man a couple of hours away turned interesting and we exchanged con- tact information. He even sent me a picture and we talked about  having  coffee next time he’s in town. The photo was recent, supposedly,  and he looked quite dapper. He looked sort  of  James  Bond-ish  in a tux  at  a military/ community service fundraising gala. I was sort of wary (intuition kicking up again) and, since he and I had talked about his new business, I checked out his website.

Since that photo, probably 10 years ago, he’s changed significantly. I don’t mean a little padding or gray hair. I mean…major body modifications. Not by age or time or diet, but by his own hand. It’s still him—I recognize the eyes—but the physical  changes  are startling, enough  so that I would feel deceived if he showed up in a café looking that different from the photo he gave me.

But it’s more than that…it’s discovering  the link on his business  site to his personal  site…and things about his personal life that are substantially different from what he’s presented to me already.


On my powerwalk with Shannon, she asked what had happened with these three guys and I explained, including how the last one had flaked  out  on me. Then, after an off-topic  conversation  about the1970’s  origins  of terms like “flaked  out,”  she said,  “Mommy, isn’t that  funny? Three men manifested out of thin air and all three were illusions!”

Yes. They’d all moved quickly into what most people think of as reality, but none of them were the kind of real I was looking for.


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