Gratitude usually spills out first. I’m alive. I’m healthy. I have freedoms, privileges and hope that many in the world don’t. I have treasured friends and family, a career that I love and a comfortable home in my favorite NYC neighborhood. I get to live curiously and passionately and I take absolutely none of that for granted; especially when juxtaposed against the pain, trauma and suffering experienced  throughout the world. None of this is owed to me and none of it is promised. So while I do possess this rare sense of peace and possibility, I ask to be guided to use it well.

When life hands me lemons I… don’t always make lemonade. I sometimes let them sour my thoughts. And then I surrender to a downward spiral where I indulge in negative mental chatter, self-pity and self-loathing. That inevitably leads to an indulgence in Grub Hub deliveries, chocolate chip cookies and mindless television. Plus, long scrolls across social media where world news and commentary by total strangers fuels my rage and anxiety. 

This Gemini wields a dual superpower of movement and stillness which, I guess, matches my extroverted-introvert personality. When those powers coalesce I’m imbued with an invaluable sense of connection to myself and others. Stillness is my sacred alone time where copal and candles burn. In this space, gravity bears no weight on my mind. Instead, it flies free as I wander through fleeting thoughts, wade through memories, daydream about my future and pour into my journals. Stillness is where I conjure ideas, visualize life as I want to live it, and contemplate the person I want to become; personally & professionally.

As society becomes increasingly polarized on socio-politico-economic issues, I have to pause, breathe deeply and maybe disengage before allowing myself to react versus  responding thoughtfully, if that’s what I choose. And even more so when I’m triggered and can feel my emotions churn heatedly inside my gut. Or as I hear the words sharpening in my mind ready to lash out into cyberspace, which has become the acceptable norm for “communication”. But I’ve seen and experienced that it accomplishes nothing; neither for me personally nor for the greater good. 

After years of repeating this pattern, I’ve finally figured out why my dreams don’t hold my attention like they should. I subconsciously invest in low-stakes projects that I’ll most likely excel at. Such projects generally make me feel valued, productive and even “successful”; at least in the eyes of others. And if I do fail, at least it doesn’t destroy my ego because my ego isn’t fully invested in it. 

To manifest my dreams means to actively define them, envision them and experience them on an emotional level before even achieving them. It’s defying the self-doubt and embracing an “I can” mentality knowing that I deserve whatever I can imagine. The hard part is accepting that “manifesting” is not achieved through instant gratification. And as badly as my 52yo ass wants to wriggle my nose for miracles to happen, I know I’ve gotta work for what I want.