(Part 5, Rabbit In The Grass) The Art Of Flowing: Making Magic Happen

Part 3 of this series began on the day when I returned home from the beach and found that I'd been evicted from the apartment I called Widow's Walk. In this episode I'm backtracking to the time just prior to then, when I was still living in that apartment. It was during that period that my inner voice began speaking to me with growing clarity, and conviction. Guided by this new found intuition I made significant changes in my lifestyle. I completely revamped my diet, began spending a lot of time in nature, and focused more of my attention on my spiritual development.

I don't recall the exact moment when I began to practice the art of 'flowing', but I do know the system began to take shape during the spring and summer I spent in Widow's Walk. Using the art of 'flowing' I was able to manifest the simple things I needed for my daily survival. The best way to explain the process is to describe the way in which I practiced it in my everyday life. For example, let's say, one day I decided I needed a new pair of shoes, but I couldn't afford to buy them. I'd wait until bedtime, and when I was lying there preparing for sleep, I'd tell myself that I was going to receive a new pair of shoes the following day. I didn't ask, or pray for them. I simply stated, as a matter of fact, that I would receive them the next day. I should add here that everything I sought back then was a basic necessity - nothing grandiose - except for one thing that had to do with a certain love interest. That wish came true, but, ultimately, was a disaster for me. It was thus that I learned the wisdom of the old saying: "Be careful what you wish for".

The day after my bedtime declaration is when I would implement the second component of 'flowing' - something I called: "Following the Line of Least Resistance". This entailed going about my daily business in as smooth, and stress-free manner as possible. For example, if I began to do something and it didn't feel quite right, I would pause - center myself - and proceed according to the dictates of my inner voice. At times, this could mean changing the direction in which I was walking, at other times it might mean scrapping an item on my agenda, and doing something else, instead.

As I navigated through my workaday world, I imagined that the path I was on was a tree, and that I was climbing it. The main trunk of the tree represented my core - the place where I paused to receive guidance from my intuition. The less I strayed from my core, the more likely I was of having my needs met by the universe.

The branches of the tree, which symbolized the intuitive choices I made regarding the direction I took, or the changes in my agenda, etc., were never directly across from one another, but were staggered at identical intervals. If I were on a branch to the left of the trunk, and my intuition told me everything was okay, I stayed where I was. If not, I moved up to the next branch on my right. However, if I continued to move in a certain direction despite having reservations, it was because something inside me told me it would be beneficial to do so. In such instances, interpreting those inner signals could be tricky because I had to make the subtle distinction between cautionary anxiety that was meant to steer me in a new direction, and a kind of excitement I feel when fate is prompting me to take a leap of faith. In my mind, climbing straight up to the branch above me constituted a leap of faith. This kind of movement was more rare, and scarier, because the distance to the branch directly above was twice as far as the branch to the left or right. Such leaps were risky, but the potential rewards were great.

In Part 6, I'll continue with the third component of 'flowing', which involves spending time alone in nature.