when manifestation doesn’t work

This is the very first time I’ve ever used this platform as a sort of diary-like space. I’m writing this on Sunday morning, right before I publish it, sitting on the sofa with a heat pad and a strong coffee, typing directly into Substack (as opposed to into a word document to copy and paste after editing). Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading it.

Each year, on the 8th August, the internet is flooded with well-intentioned people speaking to their cameras and telling you how to make the most of this day to manifest your dream life!!! Why? Well, it’s The Lion’s Gate Portal, aka the most powerful day for manifestation in the whole calendar year.

I’m one of those people who love the fun of manifestation: I love a mood board, and writing down the things I want more of, and the things I want to let go of. I doggedly pursue my goals and sometimes blame the stars for minor inconveniences (because most of the time there’s no big reason as to why you forgot recycling day this week or your manager declined your holiday request).

A lot of the time, manifestation works because it forces you to lock in on your goals and change any behaviours that might be stopping you from reaching them. But it isn’t a magic trick or quick fix.

Last year, I decided to sit down and write down and write a letter to my future self, with all the dreams I wanted to manifest, to open on 8th August this year. Reader, I can’t bring myself to even open the letter.

Because here’s what happened, after I wrote the letter: I got engaged (!) (this was on the vision board); I got sick (this wasn’t).

And then? I got more sick. I spent many hours on separate days in hospital. I had surgery. I did not recover. I could not work; I could not write; I could not read. Many months later, the fatigue means I can’t go out for dinners, or brunches, or little walks around the neighbourhood. The painkillers I’m still taking mean that I can’t drink. I had to miss important events (not one, but two hen does; two trips to Italy; multiple parties). I haven’t seen some of my best friends in a long time.

Literally nothing in my letter to myself, or my vision board, came to light, and it feels a little like I’ve been treading water, trying to keep my head up, for months on end. This coming week, I’ll be back in hospital.

The thing is: life is unpredictable. Things happen which you simply cannot plan for. You might lose a job, or decide to leave it. Your eight-year relationship might fall apart before your eyes, or you might slowly notice that you’re not being treated like someone loves you, but like they hate you - and need you - at the same time. You might build up the courage to jump into a dream life and find it immeasurably hard once you land. Your parents might get sick; your cat might break their leg and send you into debt; you might fall into a narcissist’s grip and lose yourself, momentarily.

The thing I love about manifestation? It forces you to take accountability for the life you’re building, to step back and look with fresh eyes and attend to it, like a painter might a half-painted canvas. The thing I hate about manifestation? It forces you to take accountability for your life, which means that when things don’t go to plan, it can feel like it’s somehow your fault.

Which, dear reader, It Is Not.

I feel very lucky to write to you, every week, and that you often reply, with your experiences. With the things that are happening in your lives; circumstances which often sound impossible to manage: things lost (parents, lovers, sense of selves) and things found (hope).

I am constantly reminded: we are resilient things. We get knocked down and pick ourselves back up, over and over again. We pick songs that become our anthems and we march forth, armed with the knowledge of whatever hurt us last time, determined that the best is yet to come.

So let me take your hand and plant your toes firmly in the grassy earth and remind you that it doesn’t matter if you haven’t achieved what you manifested, quite yet.

This life is full of the kind of diversions that feel infuriating to begin with but that transpire to teach you something so wonderful, when looking back.

So let the meander be the meander; let your life be imperfect. Let the clouds drift and your eyes gaze and let your breath rise slowly in your chest and let August slip slowly into September and know that if you, like me, find yourselves taking a completely different pathway, that you have not failed or ‘gone backwards’; you’re just adding different hues to the canvas, and isn’t that kind of beautiful, if you think about it?

Each month, I release a digital only zine, for paid subscribers only. It’s called The Noters’ Club, and it’s in the style of a Y2K mag, because we all have this collective nostalgia for magazines right now.

Paid subscribers also get access to the members’ chat, where we talk about everything from pop culture to little daily glimmers, make requests for future pieces, and perks which include bookclub discussions and pen pal matching.

If you sign up before September, you’ll get access to an updated 75 Sparkling (an antidote to ‘75 hard’).

And as ever - thank you SO MUCH for being here!!

Hannah xxx