Tao of Manifestation
Dancing with the Universal Dinner Lady
(or Universal Dinner Man, if you really want to be anal about it)
This is the enlightened state. It implies consistent awareness of the Tao, the Great Way of things keeping everyone and everything in motion, the only constant factor in an otherwise fully transient universe. The grace of acquiescence to what is provides the basis for interceding and guiding the flow of events in your direction.
Paradoxically, though the practice is ostensibly about getting what you want without trying through indulging this external focus but in the prescribed way, you find yourself led swiftly along the path to full transcendence so you truly don’t give a damn whether things go this way or that.
And it’s only when you have the grace to allow life to unfold as it will, that it responds to the beauty in your soul and grants you the boon of miraculous manifestation.
And this is the book that shows you how.
This is the revised version of the title first published in 2004 as Manifesto, and over the years the feedback about its startling efficaciousness has been consistently superlative.
Manifesting the life you want is a dance you do with the Tao. That’s the point of it. It is, to be crude about it, a spiritual experience. You see it’s not the things, situations and events you manifest that bring you spiritual satisfaction, it’s watching the Tao in action as those things, situations and events spring into existence before your very eyes – that’s the blessing, that’s the point (if there is one).
But what is this Tao you dance with? The Tao, the Great Spirit, the Ineffable Suchness, generating, permeating, animating, connecting and informing the entirety of all creation, is actually something you can’t describe in words. It’s simply far too big to fit within words no matter how well-configured or chosen, even for such a loquacious chap as I. But you can trigger the realization of it – after all, it’s at the existential core of each and every one of us – by playing silly games. Traditionally, the Taoists of ancient times called it the mother of both existence and non-existence – note mother, not father. This alludes to its nurturing nature. But obviously the Tao is not really a woman, nor is it a man for that matter. This indicates that ancient Taoists were just as inclined to play silly games as post-modern ones, in which case come with me all the way into silliness here and picture this.
You’ve got nothing to lose and in fact everything in the entire world to gain.
You’re standing in line in the school canteen, Oliver Twist-style, your empty plate in your hands, shuffling along as kids do, looking down at the floor or at the dodgy haircut of the person in front of you. All of a sudden you find yourself at the front of the queue, and looking up you’re startled and gratified to see that the dinner lady, far from the dowdy archetype, is actually a voluptuous, sensuous, full-lipped, sex-goddess of a woman wearing silk underwear, suspenders, stockings and heels beneath her apron (or perhaps a firm-muscled sex-god, depending on your preference), who smiles at you bountifully and says, ‘Yes? And what would you like, young woman (or man)?’ Her body language, facial expression and vocal tone suggest you can ask for anything - anything in the whole wide world - and she’ll heap it on your plate.
‘I want everything,’ you hear yourself say, ‘not just purity or peace of mind, Dinner Lady, but absolutely everything.’
And rather than calling you a greedy little git, she smiles even more munificently than before and says, ‘You got it kid, but dance with me first!’ because she loves it when you ask for everything - it’s her nature to give, to generate – it’s what she’s here for. And she loves a good dance. And that’s why we love the Universal Dinner Lady so much.