People truly believe in creating vision boards to manifest their futures. For some, it works. And for others, it sounds all too hokey. For me, the short answer is that I care not to have an opinion. To each his or her own, right? While I believe in manifesting our realities, I believe more in perspective. And how we obtain healthier perspectives will vary for each of us.
Vision boards, in the simplest of explanations, are just that, a board where one crafts out his or her vision for the future. If you are hoping to find true love, you may find words or images that signal the perfect-mate, pasting out the path to your happily-ever-after, visualizing and believing that that reality will surface. If you are low on money, perhaps your board will be a shade of green with images of cash. If you and your husband are desperately wanting to become pregnant, you may find yourself clipping out diapers and playpens. The concept is truly that simple: If you glue it, if you visualize it, if you believe it… if you build it (on a board, in your being), it will come.
I admit to being a bit hokey, to being what a dear friend has described as a pseduo-hippie. And I admit that I like the thought of signs from the universe, or at least paying attention and being open to the possibility. And what is often described by some as mere coincidence, I would smile and view as serendipitous. I mention such to predicate my quirks while highlighting that I should, knowing some of these beliefs and my intuitive nature, buy wholeheartedly in this idea of manifestation, of the law of attraction. However, Mr. Logic slams me into a wall while his friend Control makes me concerned. To explain, the principle feels a bit forced, contrived, devoid of other factors that may or may affect matters. What if that preconceived idea of your future lover with those ideal traits is not what or who you need? What if your desire for money would ultimately be someone else’s misfortune? What if the pull for fertilization would push you and your partner apart? I refuse to say that the theory will not work. Who am I to make such a claim. And for some, it may help focus, guide, and offer an outlet. But for me, I hold tight to a more simplistic approach: faith and surrender coupled with drive and priorities.
For this reason, my variation in this approach is simply to collage out my perspective. What is it that I want to work more on at this present moment? What should I dedicate a little more attention to, in order to be a better me, in this time and place? So in essence, the board is less of a vision and more of a reminder.
Last year, maybe about this time, I made one — and to date, it’s been the only one I made. My focus, then, was on imaging out self-love. Right at the top reads “Love Rachel,” a simple reminder to nourish my own body, mind, and soul a little more with each day. And the images and words on the board all focused on some aspect that would help me to love myself a bit more, to strengthen my own character, to return to a healthier self, to feed my own ambitions and pleasures.
Did I want to manifest more books or more salads or more travels? Not exactly. But I wanted to prioritize my reading and own writing (when I put it off to grade others’ essays) and to eat better (since moving to a town without the best produce had affected that) and to see the beauty in small adventures (when traveling is not always an option). And no, I did not want the law of attraction or any universal force to turn me into Pink. But I do like her strength, physical and mental, and the beauty that coincides with her fearless attitude and flawless dance. Plus, one of my magazine’s did a feature on her, so I just happened to have read an article about her, her dance, her music, so she worked as my reminder to stand up for myself, to strengthen my movements, and to be fearless in my pursuits.
The collage did live on my wall. And I simply would walk by it and maybe catch a glimpse of what I had decided to glue on it that one night when I was at my craft table. Obviously, the board did not serve as an exclusive list of my reminders, nor was I always mindful of everything on that visual list. Rather, the board simply existed. And the process of actually creating it, finding the images, arranging them, and securing them, allowed me to reflect on my current, past, and future selves a little bit more while embracing more love for my life and myself.
The board now lives in a drawer. Not because all my priorities have come to completion. But simply because I decided those reminders, those priorities lived more in me now than on my wall.
[Originally published on previous blog in May 2014.]