Manifestation and fate
I hear people talk about needing to “manifest” their future, then adding the flippant phrase that “what will be, will be”. To me, they are polar opposites of each other.
Manifestation is believing in something that eventually becomes universally tangible; for example, asking the world to meet the love of your life and the next day it happens. Then there is the “what will be, will be” process, where you don’t wish for anything and let fate do its job.
I now believe in both. You can will something to be true and also leave it up to sheer chance. Both happened to me in the same week.
Natalie and I have been best friends since we were 12. During our time together, we would jokingly state that, if we ever won the lottery (ha ha), we would take each other to New York. Of course school, marriage, mortgages and kids all became priorities. Once our kids were in primary school, we would jokingly talk about going to New York by the time we hit 40, which was only a few years away, to fulfil our fun dream (double ha ha).
Well, we hit 40 - and no trip to New York was in sight. However, the idea was always in the back of my mind and I had secretly asked the universe to make it possible.
Well, we hit 40 — and no trip to New York was in sight. However, the idea was always in the back of my mind and I had secretly asked the universe to make it possible. Many times. Four months after my 40th birthday, I came across a competition on Facebook. It was for — surprise, surprise — two plane tickets to visit New York.
I remembered our promise and intuition inspired my answer to the 25-words-or-less question: “What place would you visit if you won this prize?” It was also my intuition that prompted me to participate in this competition, even though I’m a social media expert and constantly warning my friends, family and clients about Facebook competition scams.
Three weeks later, I found out I’d won. While we were still 40 years old, my best friend and I could now fund our way to New York, a prize we’d be taking before my 41st birthday. Thank you, Universe.
What will be, will be
Natalie and I were revelling in our newly won plane tickets and awesome husbands who would take care of home, but I was also going through what I felt was a difficult decision in my life.
My son Jack was born when I was 29. Complete accident. Hubby and I decided to try again when I was 34, when we more financially secure … and then nothing happened. Every month, my period came and went. We’d agreed that IVF wasn’t an option for us and “what will be, will be”.
At 37 years old, I became pregnant. Excitement ensued, until we had the devastating blow of watching the little heart on the ultrasound beat 70 beats per minute, instead of the 120 beats per minute it needed to survive. I was watching our little creation die. Sure enough, a week later, there was no heartbeat.
At 38, I was pregnant again. A little trepidation followed but I was determined to be excited. Yet the same thing happened. At eight weeks, I lost the baby.
Then, two years of nothing. Although I didn’t have an ovulation calendar or become obsessive, every month I’d still feel a certain disappointment when my period came. For me, my 40th birthday was my deadline. If I wasn’t pregnant then, I would get my tubes tied; it wasn’t meant to be.
I had totally given up. And I was OK with that. Getting my tubes tied meant I had accepted my fate and had made the choice not to be a period clock-watcher any more. Three months after my birthday, I booked in to see my gynaecologist, who convinced me to get an IUD in place instead.
I remember his words: “There are no issues. Just wait until your next period as this will be the best time to insert it.”
Sweet. I waited for my period. Then I won the tickets to New York and I was over the moon. This was what fate was telling me; this was making room for other wonderful things to enter my life.
And then I waited. And waited. Then I started peeing all the time. I thought I was either diabetic or … no … it couldn’t be!
Yes. Yes I was. I was pregnant.
On the final stroke of the final hour: “What will be, will be.” I’ve passed the danger period of the last two miscarriages and this little one has a strong heart of 162 beats per minute. I am going to give birth just after my 41st birthday. Thank you, Fate.
So now, I will be trooping off to New York with my best friend and a bun in the oven. It will be an amazing experience and an awesome year.
My advice is to never give up on what you want in life. But, if you do give up (and you are allowed to), then simply accept the fact that what will be, will be … and live life.
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