I play the piano. Rather I would say, my life force mixes with that of the vibrations coming from its strings. I am not whole without its expression and thus it is very difficult for me to be away from it.
So, as my time in Mexico lengthened, my discomfort at not having my musical connection increased.
I am not a good guitar player, but I thought maybe I could work on my skill and alleviate some of my distress by practicing on a small guitar.
Of course, I did not know how long I would be in Mexico. So I didn’t want to spend much money on a guitar as I might be winging away on an airplane at any time.
But I wanted a good guitar.
I wanted a beautiful, parlor-sized guitar since it has a small neck and I have small hands. And I didn’t want to pay more than a hundred dollars for it.
This desire formed in my mind early in the day. I walked through the park by the beach and let my attention drift between the rhythmic waves and the feel of a smallish guitar in my hands.
Eventually my attention was called elsewhere and I spent my day doing this and that until late in the afternoon when I found myself back in the park by the sea.
A friend of mine—a dynamic French Canadian with a deep accent—was sitting on a bright yellow bench. I sat beside him and listened as he told me of his unexpected plans to return to Montreal. He lamented that he'd brought two lovely guitars with him, but felt he could only return with one and he wondered if he could find someone to buy his parlor-style guitar. He said he would give it away for a hundred dollars but he needed to find someone who would appreciate its beauty and be satisfied with its smaller size.
Manifestation.
I don’t know if it was because my recently lost husband was standing in the wings waiting to fulfill my every wish, or because I had pressed in so hard to access the secrets of the universe, or because I spent hours meditating every day, or because the Blue People were working hard on my behalf. But there it was—less than twelve hours from the inception of the desire to its fulfillment.
Manifestation on steroids.
And that was just the beginning.
It seemed nearly everything I thought of, everything I desired, I received in less than twenty four hours.
I longed to see a particular friend. Two hours later she knocked on the door. I missed someone from home. An hour later they called.
And that guitar? Well I really enjoyed it for a while, but I still missed my keyboard. Playing on an instrument you are unfamiliar with doesn’t give you the same release as playing on one you can just throw yourself into. I laid in bed thinking, Maybe I could just have a little keyboard, a cheap one. And MAYBE I wouldn’t even have to buy it. Maybe someone was going out of town and wouldn’t mind letting me borrow theirs.
Bingo!
The next morning, I saw my neighbor in the street and she said (I did NOT bring it up, mind you), “Hey, Laura! I know how much you must miss your keyboard and my neighbor is out of town and will not be back until next high-season. I am looking after her stuff and she has a little keyboard she never uses. I am SURE she would be happy to let you borrow it, if you’re interested.”
I kid you not.
And then there was the school. It was a little English school. The kind that teaches English as a second language to Mexican children. I was following it on-line and decided to see if I could volunteer there when I went back to Mexico, (after I left Mexico thinking I was never coming back).
When I got back in town, I met the teacher in her home. We talked for a half-hour. Then she offered me the school. The entire school! She was looking for a replacement and, after meeting me, she felt I was it.
Occasionally that manifesting thing got out of control.
I didn’t take on the school. I had no idea how long I was going to be in town. But, I was so flattered by her offer. And so shocked by whomever was in the wings and on my side. They sure were doing a bang up job!
And then there was the dog.
One thing I learned is that manifesting works when you think about something. You don’t necessarily have to think POSITIVELY about it. You just have to feel it on some deeper level. (More about that in NOTES ON MANIFESTING) Well the little town I was staying in was full of women. Older single women. There were so many women, they nicknamed it Puerto Mujeres (Port of Women) instead of Puerto Morelos. Now most of these women swore off men and replaced them with street dogs. I know that sounds awful, but it’s true. And I think they didn’t really swore off men. I think they just couldn’t land one, so they filled the empty space with a dog—or many dogs—and told themselves that they really preferred dogs to men.
Well, I had just been bereft of the most amazing marriage and I had no intention of becoming one of those dog-using, men-lacking women. I was so adamant about it that it was only a short time before a dog showed up on my door step.
You see, I think the Universe doesn’t hear the I don’t want part. I don’t think it understands positive and negative. It just hears dog, dog, dog, dog, dog because that is how often the thought ran through my head. So it obliged and provide me with a dog.
I wouldn’t let her in.
It was four days before I would feed her, but she still followed me everywhere. I walked down the street and she followed me. I went into a grocery store and the owner said, “You can’t bring your dog in here!”
I responded with, “She’s not my dog.”
I sat down at open-air restaurants and she hid under my chair. Friends would comment, “Oh, your dog is so sweet. What’s her name?”
And I would respond, “She’s not my dog.”
For about three weeks her name was She’s Not My Dog. But after giving in and feeding her and letting her sleep on my bed, a good friend finally said, “I think you need to change her name.”
“What should I call her?” I asked.
“She’s My Dog.”
Just so you know, since I am sure you must be asking the question, her name officially became Babygirl and all my subsequent adventures included her. In fact, I eventually even named my boat after her.
Be careful what you wish for. Or don’t wish for. Or something like that!
There was one other something I manifested during this extreme time. It was 6ft tall with blonde hair and blue eyes.
I put a lot of intention into this one. I got out a piece of paper and made a list. On that list I wrote down the twenty things I most wanted in a soul mate. I missed my husband desperately and believed in love and didn’t want to be alone. So, I started thinking of the kind of life I wanted to live. One full of travel and adventure and one close to the sea. Then, from deep within, I pulled up all the characteristics of a man who could walk that journey with me. He needed to be able to handle a boat. He needed to have a big heart. He needed to be from the same place I was from so we would connect easily on cultural issues. He needed to think fast on his feet and be able to fix anything with a roll of duct tape. He needed to be tall because I love tall men, all the men in my family were tall and I felt safe around them.
I wrote twenty things on the list and I gave it to God, the Author of the Universe.
Four days later, I met Lee.
I met him in a dive in Mexico. The most unexpected place to meet the man of your dreams. It was a tiny ex-pat hangout. It was Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville. It was a place for lost souls to find each other.
I saw him standing over in the corner chatting with people. His name was Lee. He caught my eye. I caught his. The rest is history.
How many things on the list did he fulfill?
All of them.
Manifestation is a powerful thing.