I am the kind of woman who will entertain astrology, but only for a good laugh. I’m a staunch believer in big S Science and modern medicine. The only religion I have faith in is the religion of hard work. I like a thick, well researched academic study to be the backbone of any statistic. I work with numbers for a living. Bottom line - it’s hard to convince me something exists unless I’ve physically seen it and read a Wikipedia page or two.
Manifestation, which is an intangible force, a force controlled by the walls of your mind and what you feed them, made me scoff at first. You’re probably scoffing right now, but don’t worry, I’m not going to be a saleswoman about this. I’m just going to tell you 3 instances of when my repetitive mental yearning for my own dreams came true before I even realized what I was doing, and then you can reconsider your stance.
One - Somewhere on the internet, there is a video from four years ago. A younger version of me is asked : Where do you see yourself 5 years from now? She lights up and tells the camera she’ll be in New York. Back then, for almost a decade, I thought about the city incessantly even though I’d never been. I watched walking tours on YouTube and every movie I could find and played Frank Sinatra’s song in the shower. I said it out loud to my friends. I didn’t have a plan. I just wanted it to be true very badly.
I moved here at 24. It’s been equal parts terrorizing and wonderful.
Two - In my first year here, when I was still in school and barely scraping by, I walked long and aimless lengths through Manhattan because it was one of the few things that cost zero dollars. I had sent in over 300 applications to internships and hadn’t gotten a single offer letter. Hope had become a dwindling emotion, but my conviction was stubborn. I spent a lot of time on the steps of the Met in the cold, repeating you’re going to run some important shit and get paid well for it. I closed my eyes often, and manufactured the image of myself in a killer outfit, coffee in hand, walking through gold revolving doors.
My current job? Running some important shit. First thing you see when you walk to its entrance? Gold revolving doors. I’m there in killer outfits, coffee in hand, seven days a week.
Three - The only friend it hurt to leave in India when I moved was P. We were two sides of the same coin, sharing identically wired brains and endless empathy and painful, emotional self awareness. Our friendship flourished even over long distance, and there has yet to be a day where a slew of texts between us are not exchanged. But leaving her hurt because I never got to share my new life with her, except through a screen. US Visa appointments were jammed with a two year wait post pandemic, but we still painted phonetic pictures about it all the time - we’ll be up in my apartment one day, making espresso martinis, and I’ll finally get to introduce my favorite person to my favorite city, take her on a personalized tour of my hundreds of new secret hiding spots.
Last month, I picked her up at JFK. We spent the weeks of Christmas and New Years together in the city.
When I was chasing each of these goals, at first, they seemed impossible. They included forces that were out of my control. There was no word or concept attached to them. The only common denominator has been that I centered each idea in my mind, and filled in the gaps with diligent work. I didn’t bargain with God because I don’t think I believe in one. I simply fixated on an idea so often, it catapulted me into doing the research or exert effort, and soon the stairs led to a summit.
Here’s a diluted version of the rationale to make it make sense : Every morning, you wake up and decide that you’re going to consistently ask the question - What do I want? This begets the question - What would my future self do right now to get it?
Then you spend your day doing it. No excuses. When you get tired and want to resort to old habits, you just say - What do I want? What would my future self do right now to get it? Discipline kicks in. You continue the work.
Step by step, habit by habit, you climb to the goals you give your energy to. One day, you stand on a stair and realize you’re on the floor where the sum of your efforts is an open door : its reality.
Manifestation is just mind control packaged differently. It’s saying things you want to be true. The examples I gave you are all things I did subconsciously, but constantly. I fixated. What I focused on multiplied. When I channeled my own energy, I’d like to believe the Universe channeled its forces in my favor, too.
The work of manifestation takes a certain level of delusion. Luckily, women have that in abundance, just throbbing to be redirected, but ever present in our brains. It takes a certain level of cockiness, of saying, I’m going to fight until I have this thing I want. In fact, it’s already mine. If you’re going to make big bold declarations like that, you have no choice but to take actionable steps to achieve them, don’t you?
Here’s where you start. Make a list of what you want. If you’re a visual learner, make a private Pinterest Board. Don’t be afraid, the more audacious it is, the better. Make a spectacle of your dreams! They’re special and they look good.
Then revisit often, ideally every day. Reconcile your progress. Oh, you didn’t get started on reading one book a fortnight? What would my future self do right now? She’d probably set a timer for 30 minutes before bed every night, and have the book on her nightstand. Then she’d do it. The book is right there, anyway. Five days in, the plot will have thickened enough to no longer need the reminder.
Try it for one month. It’s free. Start anywhere. Set one goal and just go for it. Gaslight yourself! It’s a simple envision and act tactic, and it works like a charm. I just wake up every morning and reaffirm, readjust if needed, and I get going. When I need a push, I look into the future, and bring a certain vision into my mind. The Manhattan skyline at sunset. The gold revolving doors that lead to the gold elevators that lead to my desk. My best friend’s laughter filling my kitchen.
And whatever’s next. I’ve got my own audacious list taped to my bathroom mirror, right where I can see it. The ever elusive recipe for success is a simple three variable equation - envision, effort, repeat.
When proven right enough times, you’ll have your own statistics to back up belief. Your well researched study will be your own life.
I said I wouldn’t be a saleswoman about what I believe in, so this is not a brochure, but a way of planting a seed in your mind. What you choose to grow it into, if anything, I leave entirely up to you.
one week for med school final year university exams
make it or break it to be an official doctor in two months
manifesting soon to be obgyn in nyc🤞💜🧿
needed this. thank you!