She Who Believes

*Grabs mic, turns lights down low* Ahem. Soleil Santana, this one’s for you.

I got the tweet from Soleil last Wednesday. The tweet that solidified the notion that these thoughts needed to migrate from the notes section in my phone to a solid blog post. “Teach me your ways por favor,” she’d said in reply to my tweet about receiving everything I speak over myself.

I immediately thought of my personal assistant, Martha: a dry-erase, fill-in calendar. Every month I find myself in the same position with Martha. After filling in the numbers and known appointments and engagements, I hover my hand over the side panel reserved for notes and I wait for it to come to me, a quote a lyric, something I made up in my mind. I speak something wonderful over each individual month. Last month I simply said, “What a beautiful month March is sure to be.” And beauty was her name.

I dubbed April “a month of great leaps and bounds.” It had come to me as these snippets usually do. I started my current job assignment in April, went to two, out of my goal of three, blogging events, applied for a showcase, having no material and no clue what to write on, and I started my position as a Digital Intern at Sister 2 Sister. The leaps and bounds have only just begun.

None of that truly “teaches” anyone my ways, though. None of that reveals the secret. I’m going to slap you with a cliche here. Brace yourself. My secret is belief. I believe. I believe in God, His promises, and that He will do exceedingly and abundantly beyond anything I can imagine. Even so, whether you believe in God, Ra, Buddha, the Universe, Allah, Baal, your plastic watering can, whatever– the fact of the matter, and the basis of the practice, is that you believe.

I speak whatever I want over my life then I believe it with every cheesy, cliche, fairy-tale fiber of my being. Case in point: I was unemployed and nearly flat broke when I decided I was going to New York for Yetti’s Certified 10 Back 2 Basics event and Tyece’s Mimosa’s & Men events this month. All I knew was that my butt was going. I bought my tickets (which took me from nearly flat broke to flat-flat broke) and continued to do me. I didn’t have time for “how.” All I knew was “what”: what I wanted, what I was dead-set on making happen. I believed from the ankle up that God would make a way for me to be at both. Long story short: I had my first paycheck, a place to stay, and a smidgen of extra cash by that Friday, 24 hours before the first event. (Shout “won’t He do it!?”, mumble your mantra,  give back to the Universe here.)

You see, something happens when you believe (*cue Whitney & Mariah*). I know, I know, I’m getting gross with these cliches, but it’s true. When you believe, truly, truly believe, all that you want starts to manifest itself. You’ll even start doing little things, subconsciously, to put yourself in a position to receive all that you want. But you have to believe.

That doesn’t mean squeeze your fists tight on some “wish I may, wish I might,” cornball fairy dust stuff. I’m talking about deep-down, raw belief. Belief is fundamentally organic. It’s like a seed in some ways. When you plant the seed of belief, you start to make your own dreams happen. Believe you’re gonna get a job, bet you’re out filling out applications. Believe you’re going to get an amazing opportunity, bet you’re putting yourself out there for your big break.

Simply ask and you shall not receive. Ask and believe and you shall receive. Don’t just get on your knees, make your request, then dust your hands off and move on. Hold your palms out. Ask and expect. Know it’s coming. Look and listen for the signs. Believe.

Because the world’s wonders aren’t granted to she who wants. Miracles don’t gravitate toward she who waits. But the world and everything ever dreamed and imagined comes to she who believes.

In the words of Frank Ocean: This is some visionary sh*t.