How I Tried (& Failed) to Keep the Universe in a Box
I didn’t think it was possible to dream big but think small. I was wrong. Because that’s exactly what I did: I had big dreams, but I tried to fit them into the box I thought was manageable.
It’s something I’ve done for as long as I can remember. When I was growing up, I learned that if I asked for what I wanted, it could be withheld as a way to manipulate and control. I learned not to ask. It made me fiercely independent because I felt that I could only ever depend on myself.
I didn’t realize I applied this to the Universe as well. I didn’t ask for what I wanted because I thought that I wasn’t likely to get it if I asked, and I was sure I had to find a way to get it myself. When I did ask for what I wanted, I asked for the bare minimum. I gave the Universe small, manageable goals instead of putting out there what I actually wanted. I thought that if I only ever wished for very reasonable things, surely it couldn’t be objectionable. Surely I could have the small things if nothing else.
This is how I tried to shove the Universe in the box I chose. I wanted to make it smaller and then close the box. I needed to keep it contained. Because I had learned that asking for what I want never had the desired outcome. I didn’t realize that the lesson I had learned applied only to my family of origin and not to the world at large.
It came out in everything. I struggled to ask for a raise that was long overdue and richly deserved. I didn’t ask for what I wanted in relationships. I didn’t dream as big as I’d like because I was so afraid to be disappointed. Instead, I worked harder for less money, didn’t go after the promotions I didn’t think I could get, kept my dreams small, settled for relationships where I wasn’t valued, and tried to survive rather than thrive.
But the Universe didn’t stay in the box. It was never meant to.
Over the last year, I started to ask for something I hadn’t specifically asked for before. I said give me a break and I need a win. I started to actually speak of my dreams- the real ones that sometimes seemed impossibly magnificent. The ones I’d always been told were too much for someone like me.
I didn’t just want to publish my own book; I wanted an agent and/or publisher who believed in my work. I wanted to get a deal for the entire series and not just a standalone book. I want to have a successful career as an author, and I want to see bestseller in front of my name at some point during my career.
I asked for a lot of things where my work is concerned, and while I was still doing the work of making it happen, I was also asking the Universe for what I wanted. I didn’t ask for something small. I asked for what I really wanted. I didn’t try to limit the Universe, and I didn’t explain why it was I wanted what I wanted as if I needed to justify it. I just asked.
Not long after that, I was working and simultaneously managing another rejection that had come to my inbox when I got the email that reminded me that the Universe had listened. Did I want a contract for my full series? I sat in front of that message in shock and with great skepticism. Could this be real??
I didn’t realize until I was sitting in front of the contract that I had not really believed that my request would be granted. I guess I’ve never really expected to get what I want, even when I paid lip service to the idea. I kept looking at the thing I had asked for and so desperately wanted and couldn’t get beyond the anxiety to be truly elated.
As it sank in, I realized that I couldn’t fit the Universe into a box anymore. I couldn’t shove it into a more comfortable form because I was afraid of being disappointed or because I was terrified of failing. I couldn’t keep asking for small things when what I wanted was more.
It feels ungrateful, in a way. I have so much, and I’m thankful for all of it. It seems petty to ask for more, to say that I absolutely deserve it. And yet… I do want more. I’m even starting to believe that I deserve to have what I want.
I can’t go back to giving the Universe tiny tasks, hoping that I won’t be disappointed if I manage my expectations. It’s like I’ve put God or the Universe or possibilities into a box of my own making and then wondered why my dreams just don’t manifest in the way I’ve hoped.
Maybe because it wasn’t really hope I was projecting as much as fear. My small expectations communicated a lack of belief in my own ability — and perhaps a lack of desire. After all, if we don’t ask, how is anyone supposed to know it’s what we want?
I signed the contract, in case you’re wondering. I’m still in shock, but I’m also learning so much about myself in the process. I want more, and I don’t have to feel guilty about wanting what I want.
I’m going to keep asking for what I want for my life. I’m going to ask for the house for my kids and world travel and a successful career as an author, and I’m going to be asking for a soul mate because I’m just not okay with another relationship that isn’t on the level I need.
I’m going to ask for the moon and the stars if that’s what I decide I need. I’m going to ask without assuming that the Universe has limitations or that I’ve run out of wishes. It’s not a Genie in a bottle, and I don’t have to shove what I want back into the vessel I’ve selected for it in my life.
My own limitations kept my life small, and yet I blamed the Universe for failing to give me what I wanted. I can’t keep dreaming big and thinking small. It wasn’t really working for me, and my request for the break I needed was honored as if all I ever really needed to do was ask. Just think about that: I only ever needed to ask. What’s easier than that?
How I Tried (& Failed) to Keep the Universe in a Box
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