Manifestation
In a project that examines how consciousness and intention can affect external events, it’s only natural that these same processes will be involved in the development of the project itself. After all, making a film is a project that’s affected by the consciousness of its creators, and Joel and I have certainly prayed aplenty that the stars will align for successful completion of our film. In this blog entry, I’ll describe the process of conscious creation – applied “weird” science - that’s become evident as the project has unfolded.
The early chapters of this project fell into place so effortlessly that it didn’t even seem like formal planning and effort were involved. Writing the original Op-Ed and its acceptance by the Globe, getting permission from the Sox to film at Fenway last September after a cold call to the front office, even lining up the scientists for interviews – everything unfolded so effortlessly after the original burst of inspiration to combine science, sports and spirituality, that the only real challenge was the mundane one of arranging appointment schedules that would work out for all concerned.
Things were different, though, when it came to the Red Sox. Neither Joel nor I knew anyone in the organization (unlike many of the scientist interviewees, whom I had previously met at professional meetings), and we soon realized that avid fandom didn’t automatically translate into press passes. Nor did visualization, clear intent or wishful thinking. After our initial success in September of 2005 (getting the entre to film inside Fenway and interview the fans and media guys), we found ourselves up against a stone wall when it came to getting access to the players in Spring Training ’06, despite what we’d been initially promised. Unfortunately, the front office person who’d given us the original press passes was no longer with the team, and the team’s inner circle seemed well defended against phone calls and letters coming from left field, so to speak.
We had a couple of seemingly promising leads that went nowhere. For example, the former protégé of one of our advisory board members was now a high ranking staffer with the Sox, but in an area so far afield that he couldn’t help us to meet the team’s public relations people. And at one of the interviews, the scientist’s wife overheard our conversation and said “Honey, isn’t the Red Sox the team that Bill’s friend owns?” Seems like her brother-in-law was friends with one of the owners – and at that moment, it looked like we were in, thanks to this synchronicity of all synchronicities. Yet despite getting the personal email address of a Sox co-owner, no follow-up developed.
These setbacks became discouraging, to the point where I found myself obsessing about details like pulling strings and manipulating personal connections, writing more letters and sending more follow-up emails. I lost the big picutre, and began to doubt whether we could actually pull this off. The easy and enjoyable flow that had marked the exciting first phase of the project was gone. I was no longer “in the zone”of effortless manifestaton, and for a few months this summer, no new leads or interviews developed. I was living inside my head, so focused on“What ifs?” and worries that even my body was getting tight and stiff and tired (too drained to put together a July blog entry). I began to wonder if my own power of intention was getting shortcircuited by this lack of enthusiasm and energy. In fact, our scientists had consistently described how intent is more effective when backed up by a strong emotional charge, and so, in a vicious cycle, my worries seemed to be sapping my strength and blocking any further progress.
Luckily, some lovely summer weather came to the rescue. During a few weeks of much needed sunshine (I confess to having borderline Seasonal Affective Disorder), I recharged my batteries and committed myself to spending one extra day a week on the project. Coincidentally (or not, depending on how mystically inclined you are), when I got back from a week on the Cape, I had a voicemail message from a Sox player to whom I’d written a letter many weeks earlier. In an interview in the local paper, he had come across as being generally attuned to the themes of our film, and so I had given it a shot. Turns out he was interested enough to continue playing phone tag with me for the last few weeks (I guess both doctors and ballplayers are hard to pin down). But still, no actual conversation.
And then I threw caution to the winds and had a nice stiff frappuccino (not my usual wimpy decaf). I got juiced up enough to feel, and release, some frustration that had been building for weeks: I’d been worrying about everyone else’s suggested timelines for how the project should run and what it should include. I’d stopped following my own intuitions about how to proceed. So I decided to just go after the parts of the project that seemed most relevant to me, release my worries, and let the gods of synchronicity take care of the rest. I suddenly realized that the ballplayer on tap was young enough to be my son, which dissolved any intimidation and resistance I’d felt towards interviewing someone so famous. I resumed listening to some teaching audiotapes on intent and manifestation, and I returned to some expressive therapy practices to help my stuck emotions get moving again.
Lo and behold - it was as if my head had to be clear before the intentions could work, because the next day, my umpteenth follow-up phone call finally hit the mark and I had my long-awaited conversation with the Red Sox player (a player to be named later, as they say in baseball). Hopefully he’ll be able to facilitate some arrangements for us, and we’ll get to bring our Random Event Generators into Fenway (they’re the gizmos that measure fan focus – see the website links to IONS and PEAR for more details). We’d also love to put our mics in front of Big Papi and Schill to hear their first hand descriptions of how they experience fans’ energy’s. In other words, stay tuned!
The early chapters of this project fell into place so effortlessly that it didn’t even seem like formal planning and effort were involved. Writing the original Op-Ed and its acceptance by the Globe, getting permission from the Sox to film at Fenway last September after a cold call to the front office, even lining up the scientists for interviews – everything unfolded so effortlessly after the original burst of inspiration to combine science, sports and spirituality, that the only real challenge was the mundane one of arranging appointment schedules that would work out for all concerned.
Things were different, though, when it came to the Red Sox. Neither Joel nor I knew anyone in the organization (unlike many of the scientist interviewees, whom I had previously met at professional meetings), and we soon realized that avid fandom didn’t automatically translate into press passes. Nor did visualization, clear intent or wishful thinking. After our initial success in September of 2005 (getting the entre to film inside Fenway and interview the fans and media guys), we found ourselves up against a stone wall when it came to getting access to the players in Spring Training ’06, despite what we’d been initially promised. Unfortunately, the front office person who’d given us the original press passes was no longer with the team, and the team’s inner circle seemed well defended against phone calls and letters coming from left field, so to speak.
We had a couple of seemingly promising leads that went nowhere. For example, the former protégé of one of our advisory board members was now a high ranking staffer with the Sox, but in an area so far afield that he couldn’t help us to meet the team’s public relations people. And at one of the interviews, the scientist’s wife overheard our conversation and said “Honey, isn’t the Red Sox the team that Bill’s friend owns?” Seems like her brother-in-law was friends with one of the owners – and at that moment, it looked like we were in, thanks to this synchronicity of all synchronicities. Yet despite getting the personal email address of a Sox co-owner, no follow-up developed.
These setbacks became discouraging, to the point where I found myself obsessing about details like pulling strings and manipulating personal connections, writing more letters and sending more follow-up emails. I lost the big picutre, and began to doubt whether we could actually pull this off. The easy and enjoyable flow that had marked the exciting first phase of the project was gone. I was no longer “in the zone”of effortless manifestaton, and for a few months this summer, no new leads or interviews developed. I was living inside my head, so focused on“What ifs?” and worries that even my body was getting tight and stiff and tired (too drained to put together a July blog entry). I began to wonder if my own power of intention was getting shortcircuited by this lack of enthusiasm and energy. In fact, our scientists had consistently described how intent is more effective when backed up by a strong emotional charge, and so, in a vicious cycle, my worries seemed to be sapping my strength and blocking any further progress.
Luckily, some lovely summer weather came to the rescue. During a few weeks of much needed sunshine (I confess to having borderline Seasonal Affective Disorder), I recharged my batteries and committed myself to spending one extra day a week on the project. Coincidentally (or not, depending on how mystically inclined you are), when I got back from a week on the Cape, I had a voicemail message from a Sox player to whom I’d written a letter many weeks earlier. In an interview in the local paper, he had come across as being generally attuned to the themes of our film, and so I had given it a shot. Turns out he was interested enough to continue playing phone tag with me for the last few weeks (I guess both doctors and ballplayers are hard to pin down). But still, no actual conversation.
And then I threw caution to the winds and had a nice stiff frappuccino (not my usual wimpy decaf). I got juiced up enough to feel, and release, some frustration that had been building for weeks: I’d been worrying about everyone else’s suggested timelines for how the project should run and what it should include. I’d stopped following my own intuitions about how to proceed. So I decided to just go after the parts of the project that seemed most relevant to me, release my worries, and let the gods of synchronicity take care of the rest. I suddenly realized that the ballplayer on tap was young enough to be my son, which dissolved any intimidation and resistance I’d felt towards interviewing someone so famous. I resumed listening to some teaching audiotapes on intent and manifestation, and I returned to some expressive therapy practices to help my stuck emotions get moving again.
Lo and behold - it was as if my head had to be clear before the intentions could work, because the next day, my umpteenth follow-up phone call finally hit the mark and I had my long-awaited conversation with the Red Sox player (a player to be named later, as they say in baseball). Hopefully he’ll be able to facilitate some arrangements for us, and we’ll get to bring our Random Event Generators into Fenway (they’re the gizmos that measure fan focus – see the website links to IONS and PEAR for more details). We’d also love to put our mics in front of Big Papi and Schill to hear their first hand descriptions of how they experience fans’ energy’s. In other words, stay tuned!
posted by Rick Leskowitz,MD at 8:23 PM
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