Take It All.
Pick one, she told her daughter – and heard the sentence she'd been raised on come out of her own mouth.
The rarest catch is mid-sentence: an inherited rule leaving your own mouth. Her daughter is playing with a stick and a purse; the sentence arrives on autopilot – you can't have both, pick one – and Bella hears it, shudders, and stops. Whose rule is that? Who decided wishes come one per person?
She's been unpicking this thread for a while – the have-tos, the borrowed clocks – but this post shows the practice at match speed: the script caught in the air and reversed before it lands on the next generation. Take it all, she says instead. The Manifest guide starts from the same permission: you're allowed to name what you want, and nothing says it must be singular. Scarcity of wishes was never a law of the universe; it was a rule of the house.
Two toys, one shudder, one reversal. Inheritance interrupted.
Yesterday I said a phrase to my daughter that made me feel sick myself. Does it resonate with you?
She was playing with a little stick and a little purse. I say to her: Sara, you've got the purse and the stick both – do you want everything? Pick one!
And it made me shudder. Why were we raised to believe we must choose only one thing? Why can we make only ONE wish? I want everything. And I have far too many wishes.
In the end I said: Sara – if you want the purse, if you want the stick – take it all! Take everything you want!
Thank you for reading.
If her words reached somewhere mine don't – good. That's what this blog is for. Take what fits and leave the rest.
– Jan