How I manifested time with the master of manifestation (continued from Part 1)
Continued from Part 1: I’d love to say that manifesting the $500 for the Writing from Your Soul workshop was the turning point and that jobs started to flow in again, but that’s not the case. Continued efforts in firming up client contracts (even those who sought me out), achieved no returns. I was professionally invisible. I could accept that something bigger was at hand but with a Florida trip coming up… I needed money!
Maybe going through this turmoil was a necessary part of the journey for someone writing a book on blind faith? Was this a test?! (Note to self: Consider subject matter before writing another book!)
By April, I redirected my focus. Instead of scrambling for training opportunities, I became the writer. I didn’t just write, I stepped into the writer’s mindset and in doing so, learned that the quality of my writing was leaps-and-bounds better with minimal distractions. Duh! My house, with all it’s maintenance and big bills, had become one large stress-inducing-distraction. So I made the decision to lease it and within one week, I found perfect-fit-tenants who signed a lease for May 1st .
I then found a writer’s hide-away, a place for me to live, about an hour from my home. A historic farmhouse with very cool housemates and animals; it borders a park, it has a great big vegetable garden and its 1/4 of the price I paid to live in my own house.
The writing was on the wall (no pun intended); when I made pro-writing decisions, everything fell into place quickly and easily. When I made pro-training decisions, everything froze up and fell to shit! Writing was obviously my new business model.
Now that the housing situation was figured out, it was just a matter of packing (but I only had 10 days to do so). Sounds feasible right? Wrong! Sixteen years of stuff to sort, trash, shred, give away, sell, pack, and agonize over. (What do I take to the farmhouse? What do I leave for the tenants? What do I store at Glenn’s already-over-furnished house?) The worst part was the physical stress of lifting, loading and moving things that were much to heavy. And although Glenn (my significant other) and a couple nieghbors helped as much as they could, the bulk of moving was on me. On a good note, I sold a ton of stuff on Craigslist – which provided me with lots of quick cash just in time for my upcoming trip.
April 29th (eve of Florida trip): I still had at least a week’s worth of packing to be done and one day to do it. I ignored the muscle spasms and exhaustion and hustled through the last few rooms while time whizzed by. I remember thinking it was 7-ish, when in fact it was almost 11:30 p.m. so I unpacked the coffee maker, put it to use once more, and repacked it. This was going to be an all-nighter. It was 4 a.m. when my car, crammed with the last load of stuff, pulled up at Glenn’s. I was only there long enough to unload everything, shower and pack a bag for Florida. Then I drove to the airport.
April 30th (arrive in Florida): The plane landed around noon and I took a cab to a modest hotel that had rooms equipped with kitchens. I walked to a local market to stock up with a few days of food and then I crashed! I barely remember my son and his girlfriend coming to visit that night. I never even got out of bed! We ate in the room together and they let themselves out. At 3 a.m. I awoke in tremendous pain, and with no OTCs to be found in the entire hotel, I walked 5 blocks to a Walgreens to get some Tylenol and Advil.
May 1st (hotel bed): Is there a stronger word than ‘pain?’ Both arms were throbbing from my shoulders straight down to finger tips. I couldn’t bend my fingers or use either hand – the left one was actually swelling up so big I thought it was going to explode. If you’ve ever had your hand smashed repeatedly with a sledge hammer, you can identify with my pain. At 7 a.m., I rang the front desk to ask for a ride to the nearest hospital, but ditched the idea when I couldn’t get my underwear on! So I doubled up on the OTCs (after opening the bottles by holding them between my knees and unscrewing the caps with my teeth). Aside from being jolted awake every 4 hours by pounding pain, I was dead to the world straight through to the next day.
May 2nd (walking dead): After two and a half days in bed, I finally got myself up and dressed. Not so much by choice, (I was still in incredible pain), but because hotel maintenance was replacing all the locks on the doors. So around 3 p.m. I hopped on a bus outside the hotel, stuck a dollar in the box and told the driver to drop me off at any quiet beach. Several minutes later, she did just that.
I sat by the ocean thinking back over the first half of the year. What a nightmare it had been! Money pressures, foreclosure notices, feeling forced to rent my house (with a ridiculously tight dead line to move). And now in so much pain, I wondered if I’d even make it to the workshop. When I get in moods like this, I bleed words – so I grabbed my journal from the beach bag and wrote the following:
The mere act of journaling makes me feel good. You can see that my journalling starts off bleak and dramatic (ugh!). But it starts to sound hopeful, and finally ends with a confident ‘knowing’ that all is in order. The bottom line is, I felt better and so I focused on the great things that had happened over the last few weeks. A good friend (Carol) who was concerned about my health, texted me at that very moment and said, “I love you and believe in you! Wayne Dyer, watch out — Lynette Landing is in your midst!” I laughed and texted her back, “I love that last line! I’ll keep you posted!”
My appetite was returning and I’d had enough of the sun. I spotted a self-serve frozen yogurt place about a block up the beach, so I headed in that direction. The place had small tables set up in a tunnel-like alley along side of it. I sat at a table, eating the yogurt and thinking about what I’d just written. It could happen! This kind of thing has happened for me before. (It’s true – in another blog, I explain a similar encounter I manifested in San Diego with self-help author Joe Vitale who was in the movie The Secret).
But as usual, doubt stole the show and I mocked myself for thinking I’d bump into Wayne Dyer in the middle of Fort Lauderdale. I had no idea if he’d even arrived in town yet. He could be on a plane. Or sitting in a hotel room. He could be staying with friends somewhere outside of town. Who the heck knew? But the chances of me bumping into him were… I swirled the yogurt around and laughed at myself.
With a few bites left in the cup, I glanced up towards the busy two-way street that divided me from the beach. Straight ahead of me, but at least 50 yards away, stood a bald man with purple running shorts and black sneakers. He was just standing there looking down at a cell phone he held. I stared for several seconds. Could it be? Nah! I waited for him to look up so I could get a better look because at this point, all I could see was his profile. Was it just another bald guy? Like the 3 or 4 I had seen earlier on the beach and stared at intently only to be disappointed. I prepared myself for another let down Just because he’s bald doesn’t mean it’s…
That thought was interrupted by a very clear voice (not sure where it came from) that said, “Well if you don’t get up now, you’ll never know, now will you? Because he’s gonna resume his run any second!” (Was that God??)
I jumped out of my seat, threw the remaining yogurt in the trash can and ran towards the street. And just like the voice warned, the bald man started moving! He truly was going to start running or walking…and then he’d be long gone! I had nothing to lose – I risked the embarrassment that it wasn’t him and yelled out the name “Wayne” as loud as I could.
He stopped, looked up and smiled in my direction and I. LOST. IT. I mean I really lost it! I held up my hand to indicate “please wait for me!” as the traffic buzzed between us. He yelled back “Be careful!” and stood there watching this basket case burst into tears. I was crying so much by the time I approached him that I couldn’t even speak! (Not my proudest moment!)
And just as I would expect, he was kind and patient (or was he just hiding the fact that he thought I was a train wreck??) He asked if I was okay and since I still hadn’t gained my composure, I pointed to the page in my journal and let him read it.
“When did you write this?” he asked.
“Five minutes ago…over there!” I pointed to the place I’d been sitting on the beach for the last 2 hours.
He laughed, “You know I teach this stuff – and how it happens all the time if you’re open to it, yet it never fails to amaze me when I hear stories like this!”
He asked me if I was down here for the writing workshop and when he learned that I was, he said he’d have me share what just happened with the audience. (WOW, I hadn’t written that in my journal!)
I accompanied him on his walk and something he said really struck me. He said, “Now I know why I’m out here. To be honest, I wasn’t going to run today [for certain reasons I won’t share], but I kept feeling a pull to get out here.” (Wow – I was that pull!)
As we continued walking, my son, Frank called. I was ready to answer but figured why leave him any room to doubt me, so I let Wayne answer the phone. “Yes, this is Wayne Dyer”. I could hear Frank say, “No way! My mom is your biggest fan!”
We walked several blocks north and said our goodbyes on the sidewalk in front of his hotel. And just as he walked into the hotel entrance, the bus back to my hotel pulled up and stopped for me. Miraculous!
The next day, Wayne kept his promise. In describing to the audience, the “invisible field that connects us all” he remembered our encounter and called me up to the stage. (I was able to obtain this short video footage of me on the stage, from the staff). After I described what happened, I gave Wayne the chapter I wrote about him.
So – how the heck did I do it? I don’t know. Most ‘law of attraction’ guides talk about belief being the most important thing – I use to agree. While belief is important, is it really the key? There were many times my belief in spending time with him faltered (up to the very last moment). And think about it, I also believed a few of my client contracts were going to be signed throughout the winter – and I mean the ‘without a doubt’ kind of belief! So it was very surprising when I was unable to manifest work!
I think it’s more about desire than belief. I desired one-on-one time with Wayne for as long as I can remember. And when I think about my house – I have actually desired to be free of it since before my son even moved out. It was big and cumbersome and way too much work. Yet, I never took the steps to do anything about it. So my desire (to be free of my house) came up with a solution. No work = no mortgage payments = needing to rent the house out. I manifested my desire!
My biggest desire of all? To be published multiple times. And when my belief about that wavers, gives up or laughs in my face, I still have my desire – stronger than ever!
(Additional note August 31, 2015 – Wayne, there’s no doubt in my mind you dwell amongst the Masters now where you can continue your work in an even greater way. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.)