March 2014, Soul Matters – by Kate Ingram, M.A.

I was out with a friend the other evening, enjoying a real Manhattan in a real bar (at night no less, and mid-week; the stars must be in some rare alignment), and in the course of conversation my friend said—in a rather Eeyorish way (witty, humorous and severely cynical) that he could see his future, and what he saw looked a lot like a trailer park. To be clear, this is a smart, talented, creative, and good-looking man who loves to give me a hard time about seeing the glass half-empty. (I always knew he was a closeted Eeyore, and I say this with no small degree of celebratory pleasure and the greatest of affection.)

Now, disregarding the fact that my friend would probably be quite happy in a little trailer somewhere, making music or poking away at his computer, coffee in hand, and regardless of the fact that he’d had a rotten day, I felt the opportunity for a little column arise in my head, to wit: Be careful what you envision, Eeyore.

Creation begins with visioning. Even when we think we’re kidding, that little vision pops out of our imagining and into the Universal Soup, and there floats in the not-too-distant future, waiting for to manifest. Remember the famous Henry Ford quote, “If you think you can, or think you can’t, you’re right”? Well, if you envision the trailer, or you envision the Playboy Mansion (I don’t, mind you, but I’m offering it as a plausible alternative for a male mind), you’re right.

My grandmother liked to say that it’s just as easy to marry a rich man as a poor one, from which I will extrapolate to say that, from a metaphysical point of view, it’s just as easy to envision something big and wonderful as something small and depressing. I mean, my vision for my friend looks like a smallish stone villa in a vineyard somewhere in the South of France. And really, when you think about it, why not? It’s no more or less plausible than the trailer park. In fact, I rather like it myself …. Okay. I’m back.

We dream our world into being with every thought, every wish, every desire and—here’s the big one—every fear. Where attention goes energy flows, and energy, my friends, is everything. This is not just some woo-woo blather; this is a scientifically verifiable fact. What’s more, it is also a demonstrable fact that our energy affects everyone and everything around us and, sometimes, even those things not physically in our presence. Think prayer. Think telepathy. Think premonitions and precognitions. These are not anomalies, but the invisible action of energies being transmitted and received. Time and space are merely mental constructs to navigate the world as we see it; they do not limit the realm of spirit or energy.

The psychologist Carl Jung said that what is not made conscious is externalized as fate. We create our fate. (Destiny is very different force that factors in here, but that’s another discussion for another day.) Given this, it becomes vitally important to be conscious of what we think about and what we envision for ourselves, because we tend to create what we imagine, and then when we find ourselves sitting in a lawn chair by the trailer door sipping Jim Beam from a paper cup we say, “See, I knew this was how it was going to end up,” because we created it. (Not there’s anything wrong with this little scenario, mind you. If this is your dream, by all means, shoot for the stars.)

Now, I know my friend knows all this and he’s probably demoting me to his B-List, or C, or D—we’re not sure yet—for turning his quip back on him, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to say that we’re all a bit casual with what we toss into the ethers, playing fast and loose with hopes and dreams, thoughts and fears and wishes. These things are real. A thought is a thing; it has life and shape and power. It behooves us to be conscious of our vision and our power, ’cause what you see, little Eeyore, is what you get.

Kate Ingram, M.A.

Kate Ingram, M.A.

KATE INGRAM, M.A., is a writer, therapist, and soul coach. She used to pride herself on being a rather wonderful Eeyore, but now chooses to be happy. Most of the time. Her first book, Washing the Bones: A Memoir of Love, Loss, and Transformation, about her journey through grief and depression to spiritual awakening, was just released in October. To find out more please visit to www.katherineingram.com.

Posted March 6, 2014