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 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.