How to Manifest

Not my artwork; from Web

Two days ago I gathered up the material I would need to build a very simple awning over the east kitchen window to keep the hot sun out from 9am til 1pm.

After the window awning was built, I got a cup of coffee and sat back to admire the new home improvement and to enjoy the new confidence I felt in being able to create this magnificent awning.

I still marvel that I was able to draw a draft of how I wanted it to look, locate all the material I would need (didn't need to buy anything), carried the ladder from out back and propped it against the east side of the house, charged up the screw gun. etc.

Now it is evening and I'm trying to determine if Wayne Dyer's Manifesting tape which I listen to all the time is the philosophy behind the creation of that awning.  For instance, I had to visualize it vividly in order to draw up the pencil drawing or draft of the awning.

I even visualize it and more while doing Dyer's 'sound manifestation' the previous day.  In short, I visualized the awning and then went through all the tasks necessary to bring it into being.  Was that really manifesting?  I do not believe it is.

My awning was build with the use of the mind.  Dyer's form of creating or building is done without the mind; Dyer uses sound vibration to create.

Frightful Fairy Tales Block Out Faith

Click on photo to enlarge

This beautiful rare old illustration is from an illustrated fairy tale book published back in the 1800s.  I don't know the title of the fairy tale. However, I thought it captured the essence of fairy tales from the past in general.

This innocent young child sleeps peacefully as vague shadowy danger lurks close-by.  Her room is decorated with all things good and nice, yet any child after having this tale read to them will go to bed frightened by the unknown, frightened by shadows, afraid to sleep too soundly even if their room is ideal, safe, and cozy.

I recall reading all the fairy tale classics in a red Collier's Encyclopedia children's edition collection my father bought when I was just starting first grade. 

At first I would lay in bed and just look at the fascinating illustrations and create my own stories.  After I learned to read, of course, the illustrations took on a whole new meaning and it was always, without exception, frightening. 

How many children (as I did) looked into the bedroom at night and tried to jump on the bed from about three feet away so the monster under the bed could not grab our feet and pull us into the dark unknown under the bed.  I could jump from five feet away. 

My parents only laughed when I said a monster was under my bed and thought it was cute the way I'd jump from a distance into bed.  But they did not believe it was necessary to rid me of the fear itself by looking under my bed.

Without those frightening (yet encouraged to read by parents) fairy tales, I may never have experienced fear.  Was that the idea -- teach little children fear.