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July 3, 2015

Adventures in Manifesting: The California Chronicles.

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Let’s talk about the Leap of Faith.

In most cases, stepping to the edge of a precipice and then jumping is considered suicide.

Humans don’t have wings. We have had to create them.

And in the process of creation, all who have tried rarely got off the ground the first time. In fact, many a crash landing was the external result.

But, that’s the thing about faith. All great ideas were great because the person who was the vessel for those ideas trusted that the plane would fly, the business would succeed, the blind would see, the moon would be landed on. And more than this—in the heart of the dreamer—success isn’t something that will happen, it happens through will.

The dream is already happening in the heart of the dreamer and they commit their life to it.

Faith comes before the leap.

Something inside, somewhere beyond true comprehension, there is a voice that says, “You can do this.” It fearlessly withstands the storms of failure and says, “You can be this.” The gifts God gave you and the inspirations in your heart are no accident.

I set out to succeed a long time ago. To whom much is given, much is asked. I have been bestowed the gifts of clairvoyance, a keen wit, a small inheritance, the challenging yet ultimately character-shaping loss of both my parents, and the good fortune of having had accomplished everything I set out to experience.

My parents were generous people and challenging to love. My father spoke through action and my mother through doing. The simplest way to describe the depth and breadth of my parents is that they were human and in their humanity they set me up for successes as well as failures.

In other words, a template was laid and each of my successes and failures are not their fault. I chose my path as it chose me. The road rose up under my feet and I have continued to walk it. In specific terms, I set out to “be my own boss”, “run my own business”, and to “change the world.”

I am the quintessential Aquarian.

My past ventures included travels to other countries and to most every state in the United States, graduating with my Bachelors in Psychology and my Masters in Counseling Psychology, running my own business for—going on—four years, and self-publishing my first book.

These are the big outcomes.

Big outcomes always start big in that they are a part of the universal mind. But just like a baby maturing in the womb has to fit through a very small birth canal, so too do big dreams have to squeeze through fears, trepidations, trials, contractions, and mistakes to be birthed into tangible form. Otherwise, big ideas just stay big and are so grandiose in their raw form that they can never be reformed and refined into the thing we call reality.

Maybe you have a big idea, maybe there is a dream that has a persistent gravity to it, and maybe the enormity of it all is scaring the shit out of you.

The lull of certainty and security dissuades many from ever entertaining big ideas as something they could realize therefore big ideas just become entertainment.

As humans we are all just selling ourselves back to us. There is a dualistic line in the sand that has been drawn that pits us against each other. But, everyone from the richest of rich to the poorest of poor shares the common thread of wanting to feel special, valued, known, heard, and supported.

I’m no different. I have had and held a dream of being as well known and as influential as Wayne Dyer, Deepack Chopra, Caroline Myss, and many other spiritual thought leaders.

I’ve spend hundreds of thousands of dollars in the pursuit of this dream. I even picked up and moved to California to further advance my endeavors.

On the summer solstice of this year, 2015, I packed what I had in my civic and drove west. This is the well-worn story of the dreamer. I don’t have a job lined up, I have a little money to my name, I am leaning on the kindness of strangers to rent me a room, and my ultimate success is often muffled by the fear of “running out of something.”

Maybe a lot of us feel this way, like we are running from something to something and in the midst of doing so we are run down, running out, running away, or just running in place. In any case, I made it to California about a week ago.

I drove the I-25 north from Boulder to the I-80 through Wyoming to Salt Lake City. It was like passing through a portal of lost dreams and conformity to watered-down ideals. That was the first eight hours. Then I stopped at a friend’s home, got some sleep, and woke up around 5am to continue the journey.

Driving west through Utah and Nevada is like sitting in a movie theater where the chair is moving 80 miles-per-hour and the movie you are watching has no plot line. It is just one long streak of brown, semi-trucks, salt-flats, and lives passing by each other with minimal interaction. It is not my favorite drive and really the first time I’ve done it alone.

The road gives you time to think.

But, I mostly thought about where I was going to get to next. I landed in the town where I grew up, Yuba City. I stayed the night with a long-time-family-friend. That was nice. Then I woke up and made my way to Yosemite to meet up with another friend.

The drive to Yosemite made it absolutely apparent just how parched California is. For a state that provides 70 percent of America’s food supply, it was almost depressing seeing just how dry and brittle it was, especially since I had just come from Colorado which was green and lush from months of rain.

And the moment I saw Half-Dome and El Capitan, I forgot everything. Nature’s majesty reminded me that long before humans ever walked earth she was here.

Spaceship Earth houses more than just the hopes and dreams of humans. It molds them. We are in concert with each other as forces of nature.

So, I arrived. I left the grandeur of nature and the embrace of my dear friend and got to a place called Ojai. I had found the room to rent about a month before I embarked on my dreamer’s journey.

The room isn’t really a room. It is a futon in an office of a home of a man who collects things. I’m living amongst archived memories, cobwebs, and confusion. The first night, I wanted to run back to Colorado and my chosen family. I was terrified.

The next day, I met some people in town and traded intuitive readings. My roommate is well connected in the community and he was a great help in the days to come.

On the third day, I rested. The fourth, I applied for jobs. The fifth, I surveyed Santa Barbara and Ventura counties. The sixth day I made the decision to move to San Diego like I had originally planned. The seventh day I met with a local woman and went to Malibu, which isn’t that impressive unless you are really rich. And on this day, the eighth day of my venture, I am panicking again just like I was the first day.

The torrent of thoughts like, “Get a job or you will run out of money,” and “You need to hurry up and make money”  and “money, money, money, sh*t, money, home, homeless, car repairs, health, failure, money” are at best overwhelming and at worst crippling.

Because, you know what, I don’t actually know if I am going to realize my dream.

Metaphorically speaking, I’ve had many miscarriages along the way. I know I want to get to San Diego but I don’t know why. I know I want to share my gift with the masses, but I don’t know how. I know that somehow when I’ve wanted to do something big, it has always happened, but I can’t remember what I did.

So, I venture forward in faith that I will.

The outcomes are to be determined.

And, I know this for sure (if anything I know is for sure): I accepted the call of counselor and medicine woman and as such I leap into the fire, I get into the trenches, and I climb back out so that when I am guiding my clients to do the same it comes from a real place.

My life has been one of provision. And now, I believe it will be one of promotion. I believe, but I don’t know…yet.

To be continued…

 

~

Relephant Read:

Root to Rise: Taking Leaps of Faith.

~

Author: Rebekah McClaskey

Editor: Renee Jahnke

Image: Marie-Dominique Verdier

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