A few years ago, I probably would have laughed at a sentence I now take increasingly seriously:
Perhaps we participate in creating our own lives far more than we are willing to admit.
Creating your own reality can easily sound like another spiritual theory. For me, it is becoming less of a theory and more of a question I decided to test in my own life.
I’m not writing this because I’ve just read another book about manifestation. Quite the opposite. I had experimented with this idea before. A few things happened that genuinely made me wonder, but I was never consistent enough to honestly say to myself: okay, now I’ve really tested this.
Since February, I’ve been doing it differently. Every day. I work with what I focus my attention on, the images of the future I create, what I actually feel and — perhaps most importantly — what I truly believe when nobody is listening. I use meditation, intention and manifestation practices, some of which I’ve known for years through the work of Joe Dispenza, but also shamanism and other experiences that have become part of my path over the years.
So this isn’t nine months of discovering something new. It is almost nine months of consistently doing it every day.
And I’m beginning not only to notice changes. I’m beginning to feel them.
Not everything happens the way I want it to. I don’t sit on the sofa ordering a new car from the Universe. That’s not what I’m talking about.
I’m talking about something much more uncomfortable. Because if we really do have more influence over our experience than we think, then this isn’t only about our dreams. It is also about our fears, expectations and the things we believe so deeply that we no longer even notice we believe them.
That is why a few pages of the book I’m currently reading made me stop.
What if God isn’t deciding for you?
I’m currently reading The White Book by Ramtha. I’m not interested in turning this into a lecture about the book or convincing anyone to accept the ideas in it. Something much simpler caught my attention: the way it presents the relationship between God, human beings, thought and free will.
God is not presented as someone separate from us, sitting somewhere above and deciding what should or shouldn’t happen in our lives. Instead, human beings are given freedom to think, choose and experience. That freedom even includes choices that may eventually bring suffering. Not because God punished us, but because freedom stops being freedom if somebody else is constantly choosing for us.
It left me with one question. If we really have been given free will, perhaps the question isn’t “What has God planned for me?”, but “What am I doing with the freedom I have been given?”
It sounds like a small difference. For me, it changes a lot, because suddenly I stop looking at life purely as something that happens to me.
What if our thoughts are more than commentary on reality?
Most of the time, we treat our thoughts as reactions to what is happening around us. I have a problem, so I worry. I don’t know what will happen next, so I’m afraid. I don’t have enough money, so I think about not having enough money. Something failed before, so I assume it may fail again.
That seems perfectly logical.
But we can reverse that relationship and ask a much more interesting question: what if the way I think doesn’t merely describe my life, but also participates in creating it?
This is one of the ideas I find in the book I’m reading. Thought, free will and experience are not presented as separate things. What a person accepts as true influences what they experience and the reality they create for themselves.
That is why creating your own reality interests me today not as an attractive slogan, but as something I can observe in my own life.
You don’t have to believe it. I no longer want to accept ideas like this simply because somebody wrote them in a book either. I would rather test them.
And that is exactly what I’m doing.
This time, I decided to really test it
This isn’t my first experiment with how thoughts, beliefs, intention and emotions influence my life. I had tried before. I had also returned to Joe Dispenza’s work several times. Last year, I went through another period of practising more regularly. There were moments when the results genuinely surprised me.
But then ordinary life returned, and somewhere along the way I lost consistency. That made it difficult to say whether any of this actually worked. A few days or weeks of practice followed by a return to the old way of living doesn’t prove very much.
So in February, I decided to approach it differently. Not for a week, not only when I’m having a good day, and not only when I desperately want something. I started doing it every day.
And I’m not talking about standing in front of a mirror telling myself that everything is going to be wonderful. I can repeat “everything will be fine” a hundred times while my body, decisions and behaviour are saying, “I’m afraid everything is going to fall apart.” I can say I want abundance while spending most of my day afraid there won’t be enough. I can say I want a beautiful relationship while somewhere deep inside expecting the other person to hurt me.
So which story is actually directing my life? The one I consciously declare, or the one I genuinely believe?
Since February, I’ve been paying attention to precisely that difference. To what I think, but also what I feel. To how I imagine the future. To old beliefs that appear automatically. To the moments when I say I want something new while still reacting as though I live in the old reality.
And after almost nine months, things are becoming very interesting.
I felt it before I could see it
This may be more important than anything I can point to outside myself. The first change didn’t happen around me. It happened within me.
Certain things that once felt distant started to feel more natural. The way I thought about them changed. I began making different decisions, responding differently to certain situations and noticing more quickly when an old fear was trying to write my future before that future had even happened.
Then I started noticing changes outside as well. Not one enormous revelation. No lightning bolt from the sky. Rather, one thing after another that had existed for a long time as an idea, a dream or a direction began — through work, decisions and concrete action as well — to become real.
One of those things is my book. And this is where it becomes even more interesting to me, because I had already written in that book about the possibility that we are not simply passive participants in life. I wrote about beliefs, perspective, patterns and how what we carry within us can influence the reality we later experience.
I was already touching this idea then. Today I’m increasingly living it and testing it on myself far more consciously.
Writing a book was once a dream. Then came the less romantic part: writing, rewriting, making decisions and bringing everything to completion. The thought didn’t write the book. I had to sit down and do the work.
But today the book exists. I can hold it in my hands. I managed to bring the Polish edition to publication, and Spanish is another step on that journey.
Something that once existed only as an image in my mind now exists in the physical world.
And the book isn’t the only example.
When something that was a dream suddenly has a date
Over the years, I’ve become increasingly passionate about working with people, transformation and practices I have first explored through my own experience. Shamanism and working with aspects of life that cannot always be explained through logic alone have become an important part of my life. I’ve studied, practised, gone through my own processes and observed what actually makes a difference.
For a long time, there was also an idea inside me of creating a space where other people could enter such an experience themselves.
For a while, it was only an idea.
Then different pieces began to appear: people, conversations, a place, decisions and concrete action. Eventually, we were able to create that event for others.
Again, I could say: nothing magical happened. You organised an event. You did the work.
Of course.
But I’m beginning to notice a recurring process. First, something appears as a possibility. Then I begin to take that possibility more seriously. Something changes internally. I begin making decisions I wasn’t making before. Action follows. Sometimes a lot of action. Sometimes obstacles, mistakes and changes of direction.
And then one day, something that existed only inside me has a cover, a date, a place — or a room full of people.
Perhaps this is where we do manifestation the greatest disservice: by presenting it as some kind of magical ordering system from the Universe.
Maybe action is part of creation.
Another dream just became something concrete
I’ve known Joe Dispenza’s work for a long time. I’ve returned to it several times and used some of his practices before. I didn’t discover him in February.
The difference is somewhere else.
Before, I lacked consistency. I would begin, practise for a while, sometimes notice something interesting, and then stop. Now his work is one part of a much broader practice I engage in every day — alongside meditation, shamanism, intention, manifestation and working with beliefs.
Different paths and different languages can sometimes lead me to surprisingly similar questions.
One of my dreams for a long time was to attend a Joe Dispenza workshop.
Now I have the tickets. I’m going soon.
You could reasonably say: so what? You wanted to go, the opportunity appeared, you bought the tickets. End of story.
And perhaps that is exactly what happened.
But when I look at my book, the event we created and this upcoming journey, I begin to see the same process. First, something begins to exist differently inside me. It stops being a distant “maybe one day”. I begin allowing it to become a real part of my life. My decisions change. I notice opportunities I might previously have overlooked. I do things I wasn’t doing before.
Then one day, something that was once only a thought becomes concrete.
The book didn’t write itself. The event didn’t organise itself. The ticket didn’t magically appear in my inbox.
But before any of those things existed physically, the possibility that they could exist had to appear somewhere first.
And this is what fascinates me.
When does an event actually begin? When I buy the ticket? When I finish the final page of the book? When we open the doors and the first people arrive?
Or much earlier?
The uncomfortable side of creating your own reality
It is easy to talk about creating your own reality when we are talking about the things we want: travel, money, a new home, a good relationship, success or a dream beginning to happen.
It becomes much harder when we look in the other direction.
If I really participate in creating my experience, what about the things I fear? What about beliefs I have repeated for years? What about the stories I have carried for so long that I have stopped recognising them as stories and started treating them as facts?
If I believe people cannot be trusted, which people do I notice and how do I interpret their behaviour? If I believe money always disappears, what financial decisions do I make? If I expect rejection, how do I enter a relationship? If I believe life is a struggle, do I somehow keep organising my life in ways that confirm that belief?
We don’t even need spirituality to recognise part of this mechanism. What we believe influences what we pay attention to. What we notice affects how we interpret situations. Interpretation affects emotion. Emotion influences decisions. Decisions influence action. Over several years, two different ways of seeing the world can lead to two very different lives.
But I’m leaving myself with another question:
Is that really all there is to it?
The same snake, two different realities
There is a simple example involving a snake in The White Book that stayed with me. One person can look at a snake and see an extraordinary form of life — the way it moves, its skin, the construction of its body. Another person can look at exactly the same snake and see something disgusting, frightening and evil.
The snake hasn’t changed. The observer has. And with the observer, the entire experience changes.
The longer I look at this, the more I notice the same mechanism in everyday life. Two people can lose their jobs. For one, it becomes a catastrophe that confirms that the world is against them. For the other, the same event may, years later, turn out to have been the beginning of an entirely different life.
Not because the second person repeated a magical sentence and “thought positively”. They gave the event a different meaning. They saw different possibilities. They made different decisions. They began moving in a different direction.
The same event, but over time, two very different realities.
That is why changing perspective has stopped being a nice phrase for me. I increasingly see it as something that can genuinely change a life.
I still don’t know where coincidence ends and creation begins
And I don’t want to pretend that I do.
I’m not going to tell you that I know how the Universe works. I don’t. Nor am I going to tell someone who is ill that they “created their illness”, or explain tragedy by saying someone had the wrong thoughts. That kind of simplification can be not only intellectually weak, but deeply cruel.
I’m interested in something else: how much of my life is actually within the sphere of my influence before I even realise it?
What happens when I stop endlessly creating my future from my past? What changes when I notice a belief before it becomes another decision? What happens if, instead of rehearsing the things I fear every day, I begin just as consistently experiencing within myself the reality I actually want?
I don’t yet know the limits of this process.
But since February, I have been testing it every day.
And perhaps this is where the question of creating your own reality becomes genuinely interesting to me. Not as a promise that we can control everything that happens in life, but as a question of how much we create through our beliefs, attention, choices and actions — and perhaps also through something we still don’t know how to name.
I’m not asking you to believe me
I’m not trying to convince you about Ramtha. I’m not trying to convince you about Dispenza. And I’m certainly not going to tell you, “You create your reality, so start thinking differently tomorrow.”
I’m still testing how far this goes myself.
I experimented before and saw things that made me wonder. This time, for the first time, I have continued long enough and consistently enough to observe not one isolated event, but a process.
And I’m beginning to feel something. I’m beginning to see something too.
Soon I’ll be sitting at a Joe Dispenza workshop. Not because I discovered his work a few months ago. I’ve known it for years. I’ve returned to it, left it and tried again. This time, however, something is different: I didn’t stop.
Since February, every day, I’ve continued my experiment.
One of the things I wanted to experience was being there.
Now I have the ticket.
Did I “manifest” it? I don’t know. Did I change enough within myself to begin making the decisions that eventually took me there? That part I can already see.
And is there something else happening somewhere between the two?
That is what I want to find out.
Not by reading another ten books, and not because someone tells me what I should believe.
Through my own life.
Perhaps that is why I’m becoming less interested in the question: “Can we really create everything we desire?”
I’m far more interested in another one:
What am I already creating, every day, without even realising that I’m doing it?
