Why I Resist Manifestation—and Return to It Anyway

I grew up in a family that trusted what could be proven—science, logic, evidence—and was skeptical of most things labeled spiritual as “woo-woo.” And yet, there was always something in me that was drawn to it. 

I remember finding a painting of Jesus tucked away in our house. I don’t know what drew me to it, but I asked my parents if I could hang it above my bed, and when I looked at it, I felt a calming presence settle into my chest. We didn’t grow up religious, but that feeling stayed with me, and by 16, I chose to become Catholic. Even then, I think I was trying to make sense of two worlds that didn’t quite match. 

Now, as a leadership coach trained in research-backed approaches to performance, I find myself returning to that same tension—but relating to it differently. I no longer see science and “woo-woo” as being in opposition. More often, I experience them as two different languages trying to describe the same human experience. 

And still, my guard goes up when I hear people talk about manifestation. Part of that is because I feel a real anger about the harm it can cause when systems of oppression get flattened into individual responsibility—when the message becomes some version of “you just need to think differently” or “pull yourself up by your bootstraps.” That framing erases too much and ignores the realities of power, privilege, and access that shape what is actually possible for people. 

So yes, I’m skeptical. And also, I’m open. 

Recently, I was listening to this episode on What Now with Trevor Noah with Emily McDonald (a neuroscientist), and she described a study that stopped me in my tracks. I was driving back from Tacoma for a baseball tournament with my son when I heard it, and I paused the podcast mid-drive—not just because it was interesting, but because I know my son holds goals for himself that no one in our family has ever accomplished. It felt important that he understood what was being said. 

I turned to him and asked, “Do you get what this means? How important it is to visualize what you want before it’s a reality?” And as I was saying it to him, I could see the places in my life to practice this for myself too. 

In the study, kittens were raised in total darkness and then only exposed to either vertical or horizontal lines. When they were later exposed to the full visual world, their brains literally couldn’t process what they hadn’t been conditioned to see. The ones exposed only to vertical lines couldn’t recognize horizontal surfaces, and the others bumped into vertical objects because they couldn’t see them. Same environment, but their perception was shaped by what they had been exposed to. 

What struck me is how much this mirrors our own experience. What we are able to see—in our lives, in our opportunities, even in ourselves—is shaped by what our brains have learned to recognize. This is part of the reason why diverse representation in leadership matters. When we see someone we identify with in positions of influence, it becomes more than symbolic—it becomes a visual cue for what’s possible, something our brains can begin to register as within reach and scan for opportunities. 

I’ve been experimenting with this in a small, practical way. March has been full—full of good things that I’m genuinely grateful for—but also full in a way that started to feel constricting. The thought that kept looping was, “I have no down time,” and underneath that was frustration and a bit of martyr energy. My calendar and the disarray within our home (that doesn't as a family of five) landed as proof—there is no space for real breaks.   

Then I changed the way I related to my calendar—from a consecutive list of all the activities and meetings in a day, to an hourly view where I could see the space between the activities and meetings. I could suddenly see the small pockets in-between meetings and commitments. Nothing about my schedule had actually changed, but I could see the space that had been there all along, and that visual alone began to soften the story I had been telling myself. 

This is where I start to see the bridge between science and what might be labeled “woo-woo.” Our brains are constantly filtering and organizing reality, deciding what we notice and what we don’t. If I am oriented toward “there’s no time,” I will find evidence to support that. If I begin to ask, “Where is there space?” I start to notice something different. Not because I’ve ignored reality, but because I’ve expanded what I’m available to perceive. 

This isn’t about bypassing real constraints or pretending everything is possible with only the right mindset. It’s about recognizing that perception plays a powerful role in how we experience our lives and what options we can even see in front of us. 

So a small experiment, if you’re open to it: take a moment to name something you want more of—space, ease, opportunity, connection—and then, for the next few days, gently look for evidence of it. Not in big, dramatic ways, but in small, almost easy-to-miss moments. 

Our brains are already wired to scan for what’s wrong; that’s part of how we’ve survived. But shifting toward something that feels more like thriving often requires intentionally practicing a different kind of attention. 

Whether you ground that in science, spirituality, or something in between, both seem to point to the same possibility: that what we learn to look for shapes what we are able to see. 

Stay wild. 

Meghan 

P.S. If you’re curious about shifting away from stress and stuckness into your generative flow, schedule an exploratory call with me.  As one client put it succinctly this week, the work we do together saves you time, money, sleep and relationships. Here's to you thriving!