Manifesting a Moment with Elizabeth Gilbert

Months ago I was served an ad on Instagram for a Big Magic Writing Retreat hosted by an author, Elizabeth Gilbert, whose book (Big Magic) on creativity, I had just read. It was March and I was a month late in writing my own self-help book and so I signed up hoping this retreat would be an opportunity to glean some knowledge from an author who I deeply admired. Surely by then I’d be done with my rough draft, I thought.

The retreat was set at a summer camp two hours north in the Appalachian mountains of Georgia. I imagined 30 or 40 dedicated writers gathering to share our work, struggle, and inspire. And… I imagined having a special moment with Liz, as she’s affectionately called. My detailed hunch was one in which we would connect deeply over the state of affairs, the magic of being alive, and share wisdom we’ve picked up during our short time on Earth. I saw every detail of it in advance: I felt her energy react to mine. I noticed - in advance - the blue of her eyes and the clearness of her skin. I felt her accept me. Maybe even be inspired, too.

A few weeks before the retreat, I learned that this was not at all the experience I signed up for. Apparently 300 (not 30) women would be attending this retreat. I wouldn’t have my own cabin for solitude but would be sharing one (and a bathroom) with up to 10 strangers. Before my mind went into panic, I decided to embrace this as “a new adventure” and be confident it would make a great story no matter what it turned out to be. I, thankfully, can coach myself. 

After 24 hours of travel, and 30 minutes of settling in, the retreat opened with a talk from Liz.

And then, there she was. Being in the presence of Elizabeth Gilbert is the closest I’ve come to knowing a Sage. Over and over, she shared her spiritual practice of just asking her guides “What do you want from me” and often hearing the answer “Just go about your business. What you want will come to you.” Ah. Manifesting. Trusting. Acceptance. I know those things, I thought. I teach them…maybe not enough.

In a state of glow and possibility, we went to bed. Me and the 5 other strangers in the cabin, next to an extremely loud generator blasting moldy air, on the most uncomfortable thin, plastic mattress. Freezing and sleep deprived, I woke before the sun to practice lakeside yoga which is how my magical day began. 

After an unremarkable breakfast of cold gluten-free bread (no toaster), plain yogurt (I found honey!), and a very dead-looking cold, fried egg, this foodie didn’t care. It felt good to expand my comfort zone. Then we got to experience the main “meat” of the retreat. Liz led a 4-hour workshop helping to expand and soften us as creators. I reveled in her personal stories of struggle and success. I learned new concepts (“purpose anxiety”) and was guided to connect differently with love and fear. During various exercises, Liz would come down from the stage and seat herself with paired off attendees, each thoughtfully following the writing prompts. She would invite them on stage to share their work with such loving support. Was this supposed to be my special moment with her? Is she going to pick me? I didn’t feel a “yes” from the universe and decided to just bathe in the magic of her proximity. I was sitting close to the stage and believed she saw me and knew I didn't need to be picked. 

Then it was time for activities: a freestyle and a choreographed dance (so fun!) - a ropes course zipline (my back! I passed!) and “affirmation art” (a little too woo even for me) and then, because I’d given myself permission to rest as I needed, I took a little power nap on my rock-hard mattress under the “white noise” of the “generator.”

I woke at dinnertime and found that, thankfully, the retreat organizers had hired a food truck to sell food outside the dining hall. I walked past the long line to approach the truck’s menu and while studying it, noticed that someone else joined me. It was Liz. Standing THIS CLOSE  to me. I turned to her and introduced myself. “Thank you for today’s workshop,” I said, AND THEN SHE HUGGED ME a full two armed, heart to heart embrace. “This food was so delicious I’m coming back for more,” she shared. “Well I don’t think you need to stand in line - everyone would be happy to have you go next, I’m sure,” I offered. “No, no,” she insisted. “I want to wait in line,” she answered. AND SO THE TWO OF US WENT TO THE BACK OF THE LONG LINE AND STOOD THERE, TOGETHER. 

Now… I’m from LA. I’m the daughter of a comedy writer (my dad) and former actress (my mom). I grew up in Hollywood among people who were famous and with people who became famous. I’ve worked in The White House, for Martha Stewart, for Barbara Walters and many others. I don’t get star struck. But what I was struck by was her groundedness. Her realness. Her total openness. I don’t get to be in the presence of people with that energy very often. And it felt big magical. And, I’d like to think, she appreciated my energy, too. After all, she did choose to stand with me. I felt fully grounded in that moment. 

Just as I was about to connect with a thought, a woman rushed up to her and broke the moment. She started to share her own chaotic story of writing her memoir and the traumas it was based on and the demands of the publisher and her feelings of conflict if she really wants the world to know her whole raw story but also maybe-but-maybe-not.  It felt like a full-body energetic assault. Oof. I felt for her. I knew her intent was good. She saw an opportunity and wanted it. As a coach, I wanted to help guide her thoughts by asking “What is your question for Liz?” But I didn’t because I’m practicing staying in my lane and believe I should never coach anyone without being asked to. I heard Liz receive this barrage of information and respond kindly with “I’m not worried about you” and “You have to keep taking the next right step” and “How could I know what the answer is better than you?” None of those responses were enough for this woman. She was looking to feel something no one else could give her: certainty.  Another woman approached us and waited for a break. But there wasn’t one. After 5 (felt like 15) minutes of this bombardment, Liz gracefully excused herself from the line to go in search of the person who was charging her phone. And as I suspected, she didn’t come back. 

I didn’t blame her. That was a lot to handle and she didn’t have to. But also, I wondered, was that it? Me and her? No, I decided. We were just about to get started and the universe sent us an obstacle, that’s all. I’m a professional obstacle solver. My new plan? I would buy the food she wanted and bring it to her. Wherever she was hiding. First I just had to find her. 

I ordered the chicken nachos (wait, is she a vegetarian?) and sweet potato fries and pulled a staff member aside to let them know I would be delivering this to Liz in her hiding place. “Oh, she’s eating in the dining room,” they responded. Awesome. I saw nothing but opportunity. 

With food in hand, I walked into the mess hall. Mystery meat BBQ was on the menu. Nope - Liz and I would have Nachos tonight. I spotted her with a small group in the back. Our eyes met and I held up the food. “Still want this?” I mouthed. “YES!” she exclaimed and scooted over to make room NEXT TO HER on the bench. Again, washed over with her energetic calm. An aura of pure love and generosity with lots of boundaries and humility, mixed in. 

“Can I pay you for this?” she asked. 

“No! You’ve given me so much already,” I assured.

“But I haven’t given you money,” as we both took our first perfectly-salted, piping hot, sweet potato fries. The entire room of 300 people melted away. I was in her bubble. I’m a happily married woman but it felt kinda like a date. It’s easy to see why so many people fall in love with her.

In the 20ish minutes that ensued, I asked her about her thoughts over this election. We talked about goals. About calling on guides and spirituality. About being neurotic and embracing it. About the writing process and how her parents drilled in her self-discipline. If we had been characters in a movie when the two friends (love interests?) had just met, the director would have surely swirled the crowd around us and played music and silenced our voices so the audience would think - oh…sparks are flying between these two. That’s what it felt like. I felt her accept me - and maybe even be inspired, too. We kept eating from the same take out container. How was I so lucky and who would believe me without a photo, I wondered. But this moment felt too connected to ask for a selfie. And it was. Then she reached into her small bag and handed me something: a little sticker that read “You Are Loved” before turning to another person who had approached her. I felt my spirit guide whisper “That was your special moment” and knew our dinner was over. I had gotten what I had hoped for and didn’t want to negotiate for more.

There have been many times in my life when I feel the universe give me a little wink. For example, every single day for the past several days, I look at the clock at least once at exactly 10:17, (my mom’s and grandma’s birthday 10.17, and the month and year my dad died 10.10.17). I feel the universe wink when I think of someone I hadn’t thought of for years and then they call me later that day. At that retreat, I felt the universe wink when it delivered the very Liz-Abbie special moment I had manifested. 

I believe the universe winks at us all. Some of us are too busy or distracted or jaded to notice. Manifesting requires us to be specific about what we want, to ask for it, to raise our vibration so we are open and aware, and then take action towards what we want. I would not have had that moment had I accepted that the story was over when she left the line. The action of buying the nachos and actively finding her was the difference of success or not. The world’s magic is fully available to you. Liz might say the world is full of Big Magic. And she’d be right.