November 28, 2025
I met a traveller from an antique land...~ Percy Bysshe Shelley, Ozymandias
I’ve become obsessed with scrubbing away grime to uncover shine. It started with ripping out mouldering old carpet from the litter-box closet and covering the alarmingly decomposed 60s-era linoleum with sassy new sheet vinyl, black-and-white-checked like an oversized outdoor chessboard.
With that festering, saturated mess transformed into something delightful, I began to experience a strange awakening. I wandered from room to room like a tourist in an antique land, marveling at the ossified environment I’ve allowed to envelop me.
I’ve lived here too many years, the furniture settled into carpet ruts and serviceable but boring decor. Once I decided to tackle the biohazardous cats’ powder room, the sense of renewal seeped from that cheerily revitalized space and crept through the entire house, like faint perfume or a bouquet you can see but not quite scent.
An energetic renaissance began, unplanned and unintended. I’m riding along with it, ignoring mental naysaying from Ascension’s rosy worldview.
Like, why put any effort into revitalizing and renewing? Some Big Bang–type solar flare is going to render it instantly obsolete, wipe the slate clean and bestow a magically sparkling new home. Don’t waste time and energy; if you just wait a bit it will be done for you.
How? When? No idea.
*****
Somehow, I’m juggling the paradox of not dis-believing in Ascension, but looking toward it with earthbound practicality. After all, I doubt anyone knows when it’s going to happen; the timeline shifts, and predictions usually amount to “soon, but we’re just not sure.”
Revitalizing a 4′ x 8′ closet with my own two hands and two handymen has removed the blinders of “it’s okay as it is.” I no longer accept the inertia promoted by my “Ascension will happen soon” excuse.
*****
That passive Ascension-waiting game reminds me of counting on magical, “out-there” changes that will make situations better (with minimal effort on my part).
When I lose weight, I’ll be able to have a great wardrobe.
When I get a better job, I’ll have plenty of money.
When I meet Mr. Wonderful, we’ll have a deep, connected relationship and loneliness will be banished.
Those statements are hopeful lies. They allow us to place our heart’s desire in the realm of wishful thinking, because it’s entwined with what the world will do for us. Mr. Wonderful must show up; the better job will come calling; a mysterious supplement will melt the weight away. We only give mental lip-service to the effort we must expend.
Believing Ascension will fix everything instantly (so don’t bother with now) is just one more hopeful lie I can tell myself while abdicating responsibility for creating my best self, my best life, right now.
*****
I’ve never received abundant health, romantic, or financial windfalls through mighty wishing. But mighty wishing combined with physical planning and action? That’s manifesting magic.
For all I know, the timing and ease of my personal ascension may depend on rejecting a thumb-twiddling, Ascension-soon belief system. Embracing “Ascension soon, but here’s my sweat equity now” might be my E-ticket to earthly paradise, to this Eden we know is here.
However and whenever it happens, I’d much rather greet the divinity of Ascension with a well-loved, sparkling, harmonious home (and self) than one waiting for the Ascension broom to sweep it clean and make it all new.
