Wednesday, 25 January 2017

Natural's Manifestations

I started hardcore manifesting in 2012.  

Every new moon and full moon I write down the things I want in my life and the things I want out of my life.  Everything.

It's surreal to have an end of the year review and realize that majority of manifestations have started to materialize or have completely come into existence.

I found this manifestation from 16 April 2015. My Juris Doctor grades were seriously important to me. That was only because I am obsessed with my dad and my dad graduated fifth in class from U of A, my uncle Kipp graduate third in class from U of A and my uncle John graduate first in class from Oxford Law. I wanted to make them proud. 

Lets be real. Grades do not matter. Three of the guys I went to law school graduated with around 60% or so, and they all are better lawyers than I am ... because they're not neurotic and don't sweat the small stuff. I'm constantly ridiculed for being smart-dumb, which I'm cool with.  So as a preface, this blog is about manifestations, not percentages from long ago.

In the 16 April 2015 manifestation:

I wrote that I received the best grade in book-keeping at 90%.  In reality, I received 86%, but did not follow up with the professor, but I gather that was at the top of the class. 

I wrote that I received the best grade in civil procedure at 90%.  In reality, I received a 75%, which is above average, but not the best.

I wrote that I received 90% in Canadian foundations.  In reality, I received a 78%, which again is on the higher end.

I wrote that I received a 90% in Ethics.  In reality, I received a 75% ... higher end, but still not the highest.

The pivotal manifestation was Canadian criminal law.  I wrote that I received a 90% in Canadian criminal law and the highest grade in the class.  The story behind this manifestation is as follows.  

The professor had a reputation for being fierce.  For example, a student asked her to repeat a paragraph number she had just referenced and she replied: I already told you the paragraph reference, watch the streamed lecture after class if you cannot keep up.

Massively fierce. Massively fabulous.

I had the fortunate experience of being on the Committee for the Canadian Law Students Association thanks to my best friend in law school, Joseph Correrio.  At a morning tea event, I met this infamously fierce professor.  We were thick as thieves, mostly over our love for trash television.

My fellow students called our interactions the taming of the shrew (and lets be clear, being Shakespeare's shrew is a compliment to me).  In my eyes, we became wonderful friends.  I had so many weird dreams about her.  In one dream, she was standing in an observatory with beautiful blue butterflies every where.  Everyone thought it was weird I dreamed about her all the time.

For our mid-term assessment we had a moot.  For you non-lawyers, a moot is a fake court session and since it was criminal law, our moot was a fake court session about how many years to sentence an accused murderer. 

I nailed it. I had the perfect cases and practiced, practiced, practiced.  My contracts professor in my first year of law school, Umair, said I would be a good advocate because my demeanour was so calm, my intonation was clear and although my voice was soft, it was serious (lets talk about the nicest thing any one has ever said to me). 

The issue was, I kept having this nagging feeling: Natalie, go check the sign up sheet on her door. I messaged Joseph Corriero to ask if he could check for me.  He said: Natt! I left the school an hour ago. I'll go back and check tonight if you want. I wrote back and said, don't worry about it buddy, I'll go check it. 

I tried to look online.  No sign up sheet.  So I ran to the school. Doors locked.  I went home to bed. At 9 am, I walked confidently into the moot court.  My counter part said, how many years did you recommend? I replied between 14 to 16.  He replied, aren't you the prosecution?  

My heart sank.  I knew it. I had prepared for the defence. My counter part graciously offered to switch sides on the fly, but I told him it was my blight to bear.  Before Justice Fierce, I stammered and said I accidentally prepared for the wrong side.  She said too bad, go ahead.  It was a disaster.  A natural disaster. 

During the feedback she said I did well considering I essentially had not prepared.  My mark ... 50%. 50% of 30% of my entire grade.  I appealed for the first time ever.  I made my case.  In practice not a single soul would show up at court and say: dang it your Honour! I prepared for the wrong side! I thought when I initially interviewed that wild cat (who I subsequently billed and accepted payment from) I was collecting evidence for the other side! Like really. Similarly, it's a fake court, if we both would have presented the same side it would have been okay. We didn't need to respond to each others' submissions. 

I remember talking through the grade appeal with my friend Keith Torrie (the quintessential of a diplomat) and he agreed with my argument, so I felt it would turn out.

Either way, Professor Fierce wrote back to the appeal request with a no.  It made me like her more. Even though I literally cried over it.

For the remainder of the semester, I was determined to show her I wasn't an idiot (I am).  I manifested day in and day out to top the class. 

The exam was my last exam of my Juris Doctor.  The night before the exam I drank a bottle of wine. I remember sitting in the far back, left hand side of the exam room, furiously writing and wildly hungover. 

At the end of each exam, I would go home and rewrite it and estimate my mark.  I've only been off by more than 3% once.  That was in equity and he bumped me up 6% any way because he knew when I wrote 500 - 250 = 73.23467 was a mistake.  I know what 500 - 250 equals. 

I didn't rewrite my Canadian criminal law exam.   I think it's because I went out to celebrate or maybe I was too tired.  I felt quiet about it.

Two nights before the marks were released, my mind could not have been further from law school.  I was out playing.  

Law school was brought to the forefront of my mind again because I had another weird dream about Professor Fierce.  I was in a well lit room, but it was massively blurry.  There were many other people in the room, but notably, Fierce and another Canadian professor were deliberating.  They had my exam in hand and they were trying to figure out if I cheated because it was the best written exam they had ever seen.  They determined there was no way I could have cheated and then used my exam as the benchmark to compare all the other students' exams against.

The marks came out. I achieved 78% overall in Canadian criminal law.  Not the number I had hoped to see.  However, because of my 15/30 on the assessment, I realized that meant I received 63/70 (or 90%) on the exam. 

I do not know if the dream was real, but I think of that professor often. It is possible she didn't even mark my exam.  Either way, that was the first time I saw my manifestations materialize, even if it wasn't exactly how I wanted it or exactly how I planned. 

So at the new moon and full moon you can always find me blowing off plans from some quiet time with Natural.  If you're interested in learning, I would be ecstatic to show you the ways.

Wednesday, 11 January 2017

Spectacular Disaster

I won’t spill all my secrets out onto this page now. I’ll save that for the non-fiction tell all novel that will be out in a few years.

I wanted to write about my trip home.
I come home every year because I’m a spoiled, entitled, millennial brat.
This year was especially special.  From the moment I touched Canadian soil I hit the ground running.

Lockey (my dad) laughs and says he doesn’t know anyone who has more friends than I do.  I have them because I work for them. I need them.  My friends make me who I am. I am my friends. I am nothing without these people.

Everyone looks back on 2016 with negativity and says lets leave this blasted year behind.  These are some of the things that happened to us in 2016 (some of the facts are flipped for obvious reasons):

death, watching someone get his by a bus, finding out you have cancer, meeting a stranger who is your biological mom at the age of 30, heart attack, more death, sexual assault, divorce, losing a limb, being unofficially diagnosed with autism (me. three times), public posts on social media to shame people, having the “you’re an alcoholic talk” (twice and also once me), manifesting every full moon and new moon for something you realize you wont ever have (wasted energy).

Yes these things are negative.  My heart was heavy at times, but I look back on these hard events with so much love.  There’s no un-awkward way to say it, but I’m thankful it all happened. My people run hard.  They are wise, they are resilient, they are beautiful. If all these horrible things didn't happen, I wouldn't run with them because I don't want to run with lambs.

Everything we do we do it hard and loud:
Law so hard
Lament so loud
Yoga so hard
Languor so loud
Friendship even harder

This year I truly realized how messy everything has become.  There are no clean lines through untouched powdered snow.  We’re falling all over ourselves and each other. Treading and tracking. Over sharing and overlapping. But it somehow all comes together in a beautiful ribbon wrapped into a bow.

My life is loud, outlandish and unruly. It’s all a fucking spectacular disaster.

In these last three weeks I stayed over night in 9 cities, across 3 provinces and a state. I’ve done everything:

Ice skating, snowboarding, laughing, crying, drinking too much, hockey games, driving for hours and hours, heady debates, even headier card games, burying the hatchet, beating the dead horse and then bloody burying that damn horse too, hard talks, meaningless talks, funerals, cuddling, giving, ex boyfriends and third wheels, hotels, hot tubs, couches and floors, making friends with strangers at the bar, wearing the same outfit for five days, meeting up with Gary & Catherine, looking an arch enemy in the eye, unpaid modelling, declined credit cards, bar hopping, sleeping in, not sleeping enough, being pretentious, stairway to heaven, trashy restaurants, classy joints, so much tarot, blowing up snapchat, ripping off Alexandre Dumas, dancing, loud music, botox, toasting, meditation, touching faces, hand feeding each other food, late night pho, spiritual healers showing up on the doorstep, late night pizza, helping two people unlock their psychic powers, yoga-ing my way to freedom and being Kicking Horse Kings & Queens for a day.

My chakras are vibing so high. I hold my glass up to 2016, today, this moment and tomorrow. Below is a list, in no particular order, of all the beautiful people I ran with these last three weeks (for everyone I missed seeing, I am so sorry and I will see you in May). Thank you for your time. Thank you for your energy.  Thank you for adding to the spectacular disaster.

Graeme Dempsey and the Dempsey clan, Scott, Faye and Barret Kinsman, the Atkins, the Dicksons, Whitney & Naresh, Dames Joney, Chris Doney, Tyler Sackley, Amanda, Emily and Victoria Fullmer, Erin Viala (I still owe you 35 clams), Oliver & Kelli, the Gilberts, Nicole Chacalias & Mark, my entire extended family, Karissa Bea Millar, Rod & Benita Millar, Graham Fleming, the Rosentreder twins, Dean & Angel, Jillian Rey and Ian, Kim Frey, Tom Chenier, April Brown, Sean Tonelli, Mallory Kosterski, Charis Sutton, Brooks Musty, Amanda Gallop, Michelle Greaves, Rae Robinn, Gavin McGregor, Mark Drever, Cassie Sutter, Mark Mitchell, Tala, Ryan & Susan, Mark & Deanna Jewells, Zuzanna, Kurt & Ashley, Benjamin Caldwell, Eric Laroque, Tony & Monel, Heather Turner, Heather Buttar, Simon Trafford, Alex Newman, John Ross.

Love Natural Disaster