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Create the life you want

by Cherenda Laverne about a year ago in self help
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My little black manifestation journal

She put the pen to the paper and began jotting down all the things she had envisioned for herself. Where she wanted to live, what she wanted to do for her forever career, and how she wanted to feel. For the first time ever it felt obtainable. It felt as if it was all possible. Even if it was just scribbled in the millionth “on-sale” journal she had bought this year.

She had a sense for these sorts of things. She knew she was at a turning point in her life, and she was never going back to the lifestyle she had grown so accustomed to. Her luck was changing and she could feel it. She had just finished her 2nd cup of coffee while listening to Jim Carey’s inspiring story on his rise to fame. Hearing how he slept in his car and ate food out of a can. Writing a check for x amount of money to himself knowing that one day he would obtain it, and going for it time and time again. Despite failures. Something about that story really stuck with her, and she thought “Hey! If Jim Carey can believe in the power of manifesting, and he is where he is. Then when I believe in it, I am capable of the same!”

Now she thought to herself something in the 100’s of thousands maybe a little unobtainable at first. She was however a single mother of 3, barely making ends meet. But! $20,000.00 seemed feasible even if she had never seen that kind of money in her lifetime all at once.

She raced for her bank booklet and tore out a temporary check. She began to write her name on the “Pay to the order of” line and it almost felt magical. She was putting something into existence, and she knew one way or another she would be coming into this money. Sooner or later!

As she finished writing out the amount and signing the signature line she tucked the check into her black manifestation journal. Said a silly mantra to herself, and closed the book. She tucked it neatly away in her closet without a second thought. Her life went on, and she didn’t even blink twice at the fact she had written herself this check. The time came and went. She pursued a new career and began to live in her power. The power of here and now. She decided that the world owed her nothing, but what she chose to ask for… and like someone once told her “Closed mouths don’t get fed.” She was hungry. Hungry for change, hungry for more, and she would not stop until she got it.

She started writing again and found herself able to get lost in a book. Turning pages on top of pages of novels she never thought she could read again unless it was in the car ride to her sitter. On an audible, she had to rewind several times just to catch the plot. Life wasn’t as fast as she thought it was though. It had started to slow down. Moments felt timeless, and her life didn’t feel so rushed or bothered. She began enjoying the little things in life once again. As if she was 9 years old. On that old rope swing, swinging out from the tree, where for a moment time stood still before she was whisked back, and gravity came swiftly in to remind her she was only human. It was that feeling she had been longing for. The nostalgia of time standing still as if it did when she was young. She was capturing time as if she held an hourglass for the universe in the palms of her hand.

She progressed in her writing. Poetry mostly. A few short stories or a “Tell All” on a blog she didn’t quite think would go anywhere, but it felt good to get it out. As she finished her latest post on experiencing life through the eyes of a single mother who still believed anything was possible. She stumbled on an AD for a writing contest. Typically she didn’t glance at these more than once. She surely never entered them for fear her writing may not be good enough. However this time it was different. For she saw the dollar amount plastered in big bold white letters. She smirked to herself. How peculiar this all really was. For she had written a check to herself in the exact same amount, and wouldn’t you know she had dated it for April 14, 2021, and tucked it away in her little black manifestation journal.

self help

About the author

Cherenda Laverne

Just an aspiring writer who loves to get lost in her head, and write down whatever comes to mind.

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