Using emotion to power your manifestations

Lately I’ve been trying to better understand the use of emotion in the conscious creation process. We know that our thoughts, emotions and beliefs create the world we live in, but how do you begin to consciously blend those ingredients into concrete, objective reality?

Seth tells us that intense emotions can speed-up the creation process ten-fold. Again, it’s a relatively simple statement that appears to have much validity. Emotions are comprised of energy, so any intense emotion would, in theory, seek out and attract like energy, leading to a manifestation–the stronger the emotion, the quicker and more powerful the result. Like many of us on this path, I’ve been fascinated by this and began working with it purposely to affect my manifestations.

During mediation and belief exercises, I’ve tried to put as much emotion behind my thoughts as possible. If I want to experience peace, I try to imagine my favorite beach scene, using my imagination to help “feel” relaxation. I imagine the feeling of the beach sand on my feet, the waves lapping at my legs and the sun beating down on my brow. Then I turn my attention to my mental state and try to capture what the “emotion” of peace and relaxation is like. Having been to the beach many times, this has been an easy one.

What about other kinds of manifestations? What does financial security “feel” like? How do you imagine the joy you’d experience paying off your credit cards? Does it really work? Are beliefs and imagination the most important pieces to conscious creation? Where does emotion fit in? These questions have circled my head for the past few weeks, which meant I was subconsciously working on accessing the answer. Last night, my inner being set up a real life example for me to experience.

I was working on an assignment for a writing class I’m in. The assignment asked us to write about fear. I thought for a while and decided to draw upon a real life example from a few years ago. The story is set in the mountains at a family retreat and I told the story of spending my first night alone. Here’s a sample:

The effects of a weighty spaghetti dinner and wine were beginning to take effect and I was getting sleepy. It was only 9 p.m. but in the mountains, your body takes its cue from the sun and he had gone to bed hours ago. I let Pepper dog out to do one last visit and to sample the warm summer evening.

Millions of stars looked down on me as I gazed back in quiet awe. With no lights around, the mountain sky is pitch black yet dotted with the most amazing views of the constellations. The Milky Way looked almost palpable: its semi-opaqueness floating right above my head. No wind tonight; the air was impossibly quiet. A subtle ringing formed in my ears – that kind you get when its so quiet it feels like the air wants to create something to hear. Even my thoughts seemed to be vacuous in the night air as I tried to take in the surroundings.

About 20 yards away, Pepper began to growl. The sound startled me and immediately turned my lucid state into high alertness. Despite the lone light bulb attached to the back of the house, I couldn’t see anything. Where was he? What was he growling at? I whispered to him, “Pepper-come here.” His growl grew audibly louder as if whatever was out there was coming closer. “Pepper: COME HERE!” The words were loud and firm this time and I heard the jingling of his dog tags coming up the road. He gave me a puzzled look as if to say “what the hell is wrong with you?” as he turned and trotted back into the house. As I carefully walked barefoot across the rocky dirt, I heard the faint sound of coyotes barking a few miles away. “That must be it. No danger here,” I thought and shut the door.

As I continued to work on the story, I was vividly transported back to that night many years ago. I could sit for a moment and recall exactly what I was thinking during each moment of the night and then write down my experience. I found myself feeling—in my body—the emotions that plagued me that night. Using my imagination and memory, I was experiencing my heart racing and the panic that would sometimes overcome me. In some ways, I was amazed at how fresh the experience still lived in my mind.

Pleased with my work, I finished my assignment and decided to take my dog Bloo out for an evening walk before bed. During our evening walks, I try to let my consciousness blend with the environment around me, attempting to become a part of nature as we walk. Of course, that means instead that I spend a lot of time deep in thought wondering why I haven’t won the lottery or found my dream job.

As we rounded the last corner toward the house, Bloo stopped dead in his tracks and started growling. Trying to regain my bearings, I looked around to see what was causing the disturbance. A growl usually means someone else is walking his dog close by and Bloo wants to play. But this growl was different. He was showing teeth and his stance was aggressive. I looked to my left and saw the culprit: about 20 feet away stood a large coyote. I’ve grown up in the mountains of Colorado, so wild animals don’t usually scare me. This one at first simply startled me.

But as we stood there for a moment, I noticed the coyote wasn’t moving nor was he running away. We stood our ground for a moment and watched him when he started slowly moving toward us. When you’re faced with a wild animal (or even some domesticated ones), the last thing you want to do is have them moving toward you. I yelled at the coyote and looked beyond him as we slowly backed away from him. He stopped for a moment and we continued on our walk…my heart racing hard in my chest.

I didn’t even walk a block when the realization hit me: here was an immediate manifestation of fear that I had created. The feeling was unmistakable. The writing exercise put me directly in touch with the emotion of fear and now I was experiencing, almost verbatim, the fruits of that labor.

Now in some ways the experience is pretty cool, although I’d prefer the lesson not be centered on the emotion of fear. Nevertheless, it does validate what I’d set out to find. Intense emotion does, indeed, have a direct effect on conscious creation.

As with life, you need direct experience to fully appreciate a concept. The experience becomes a ‘knowing,’ a ‘truth’ that you can hold onto and use. It’s a skill that can be developed and it’s one that’s absolutely crucial to creating your own reality.

Tomorrow I’ll be back to my belief exercises and meditation, searching for ways to bring positive emotion into my imagination. I know it’s possible and when I get it, the results will be amazing.

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3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. hamiltonal
    Mar 01, 2012 @ 19:11:49

    “…the realization hit me: here was an immediate manifestation of fear that I had created. The feeling was unmistakable. The writing exercise put me directly in touch with the emotion of fear and now I was experiencing, almost verbatim, the fruits of that labor.” This is fabulous! You did it!! Wahoo! It totally reminds me of Carlos Castaneda’s encounter with the Coyote, the glowing sparkling one. I don’t believe he made the connection back to himself, though, like you did. Fabulously manifested, my friend!

    Reply

  2. Trackback: Leadership Thought #310 – Experience It Then Let It Go « Ed Robinson's Blog

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