MANIFESTATION
1 a: the act, process, or an instance of manifesting b (1): something that manifests or is manifest (2): a perceptible, outward, or visible expression c: one of the forms in which an individual is manifested d: an occult phenomenon ; specifically : materialization2: a public demonstration of power and purpose (Merriam-Webster)
What does it mean to Manifest something? Could it be that we can want something bad enough that we can call it into existence simply from the desire for that thing?
This blog is a testament to the power of manifestation, to a life desired from youth, finally called into being. Even by the simple process of documenting these intentions, I am calling them into reality.
So, now that all of that weird Quantum Theory stuff is out of the way...
Simple Living. Sounds nice at first. Involves some elbow grease and determination. Sometimes it involves a little bit of earth. We are looking for that right now. But I think I can do it wherever we end up.
Why you ask? I grew up in a city, well, on the outskirts. But we were in suburbia. Regardless of this, in the middle of the hustle and bustle of this little house on little lot wonderland, there was a farm just behind our backyard. A wonderful farm with an apple/pear orchard, strawberries, chickens and lots of beautiful brown dirt ready for planting and nurturing.
A special lady lived in the ramshackle old farmhouse and she taught me that it is far richer to be able to live on your own sweat, than to have all of the money that the rat race can promise. She taught me how to pick apples, core them, and cook them in a huge iron pot over a fire into the most delicious Apple Butter. She would also make her own lye soap in a similar kettle that got your clothes whiter than any Tide or Surf formula you can buy off the supermarket shelf. She taught me to listen to the chickens clucking when they found a good brooding spot. And the next morning she would pull over a dozen eggs out of the nesting box.
She lived in a tiny stone and tarpaper house with a potbelly stove that made the most luxurious biscuits I've ever eaten. She would pull out her homemade apple butter and we would feast on the fruits of her labor. And there, I fell in love with that life and vowed that I would seek it out for myself.
It's not as easy as it seems. We all live in a sterile, prepackaged society. Many of our children have no concept of where their food actually comes from. The meat we do consume is raised in giant corporate pseudo-farms and sent to massive processing plants with little to no respect for the tasks at hand. Our vegetables are grown on enormous farms with genetically altered seeds. Where did it all go? Can we ever bring it back? When did people forget that even if they only have a patio or balcony, they can grow their own food? Have we really gotten so lazy?
My eyes were opened even further fall of this year when the nuts began to fall from the trees. Our economy was falling, homeless shelters were full and people began to starve. Yet, even outside of the homeless shelter, the parking lot was littered with thousands of black walnuts. Food, just there on the ground rotting. Loaded with protein and full of live preserving fats and oils. And they were left there to rot, pesky things. While in the grocery store I find them selling for $8 a pound shelled.
I knew where I could collect some without trespassing, and I boxed up walnuts. I husked them, and dried them, and shelled them. And got almost three cups of delicious walnuts for free. I learned some lessons. (Like wear gloves, because those hulls are what they make walnut stain out of! My hands were red for a week!) But I'm ready to take it further.
We are house hunting, so this year has been put off for farming. But we are going to find a home that allows us to live the simple life we've wanted for so long. I want my son to see that it's not all pre packaged at a supermarket. What it is like to climb a pear tree to get the sweetest ones from the top. To eat fresh eggs each morning. To dig his bare feet in freshly turned earth. To do the things that I did as a little girl on that little farm in the suburbs.
1 a: the act, process, or an instance of manifesting b (1): something that manifests or is manifest (2): a perceptible, outward, or visible expression c: one of the forms in which an individual is manifested d: an occult phenomenon ; specifically : materialization2: a public demonstration of power and purpose (Merriam-Webster)
What does it mean to Manifest something? Could it be that we can want something bad enough that we can call it into existence simply from the desire for that thing?
This blog is a testament to the power of manifestation, to a life desired from youth, finally called into being. Even by the simple process of documenting these intentions, I am calling them into reality.
So, now that all of that weird Quantum Theory stuff is out of the way...
Simple Living. Sounds nice at first. Involves some elbow grease and determination. Sometimes it involves a little bit of earth. We are looking for that right now. But I think I can do it wherever we end up.
Why you ask? I grew up in a city, well, on the outskirts. But we were in suburbia. Regardless of this, in the middle of the hustle and bustle of this little house on little lot wonderland, there was a farm just behind our backyard. A wonderful farm with an apple/pear orchard, strawberries, chickens and lots of beautiful brown dirt ready for planting and nurturing.
A special lady lived in the ramshackle old farmhouse and she taught me that it is far richer to be able to live on your own sweat, than to have all of the money that the rat race can promise. She taught me how to pick apples, core them, and cook them in a huge iron pot over a fire into the most delicious Apple Butter. She would also make her own lye soap in a similar kettle that got your clothes whiter than any Tide or Surf formula you can buy off the supermarket shelf. She taught me to listen to the chickens clucking when they found a good brooding spot. And the next morning she would pull over a dozen eggs out of the nesting box.
She lived in a tiny stone and tarpaper house with a potbelly stove that made the most luxurious biscuits I've ever eaten. She would pull out her homemade apple butter and we would feast on the fruits of her labor. And there, I fell in love with that life and vowed that I would seek it out for myself.
It's not as easy as it seems. We all live in a sterile, prepackaged society. Many of our children have no concept of where their food actually comes from. The meat we do consume is raised in giant corporate pseudo-farms and sent to massive processing plants with little to no respect for the tasks at hand. Our vegetables are grown on enormous farms with genetically altered seeds. Where did it all go? Can we ever bring it back? When did people forget that even if they only have a patio or balcony, they can grow their own food? Have we really gotten so lazy?
My eyes were opened even further fall of this year when the nuts began to fall from the trees. Our economy was falling, homeless shelters were full and people began to starve. Yet, even outside of the homeless shelter, the parking lot was littered with thousands of black walnuts. Food, just there on the ground rotting. Loaded with protein and full of live preserving fats and oils. And they were left there to rot, pesky things. While in the grocery store I find them selling for $8 a pound shelled.
I knew where I could collect some without trespassing, and I boxed up walnuts. I husked them, and dried them, and shelled them. And got almost three cups of delicious walnuts for free. I learned some lessons. (Like wear gloves, because those hulls are what they make walnut stain out of! My hands were red for a week!) But I'm ready to take it further.
We are house hunting, so this year has been put off for farming. But we are going to find a home that allows us to live the simple life we've wanted for so long. I want my son to see that it's not all pre packaged at a supermarket. What it is like to climb a pear tree to get the sweetest ones from the top. To eat fresh eggs each morning. To dig his bare feet in freshly turned earth. To do the things that I did as a little girl on that little farm in the suburbs.
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