Manifesting My Dream House

Manifesting My Dream House

Casa Punta Banco, Costa Rica. This was how far I would travel for good sex 15 years ago.

In committing to blog about my experiences (and experiments) with conscious creation, the question is where to start. I’ve been doing this stuff for well over a decade now, and there are many tales I could recount. So I’ll start at the beginning.

My first experiment with energy, visualisation and all that malarky manifested something rather spectacular: my house. Anyone who has been to my house will appreciate that I do not use the word ‘spectacular’ lightly.  My house is a thing of great beauty. The creation of a troubled romantic genius (the brother of Greta Scacchi), modelled on his house in Milan, it’s a quirky conversion of an 1880s brewery stable block. It has a 30 foot roof terrace and an excess of plumbing (four toilets, 3 baths and a shower).  Though it is not enormous (certainly not for a family of six), people get disoriented and sometimes lost in it: staircases go off in different directions and doorways open on to parts of the house you didn’t expect.  From the outside it barely seems to exist: there is no facade, only a small doorway in a doorway-sized wall set back from the road.  But the house itself – which young visitors have dubbed ‘the TARDIS house’ and ‘the James Bond house’ – is on three levels and stretches behind the back gardens of three adjacent properties. All this magic (and let’s not forget the blessing of a built-in double garage in this parking-restricted city) is not twenty steps from Brighton seafront.

It is my dream house: I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. So how did I manifest it?

At the end of 2000 I received my divorce settlement. This, in essence, was money I’d earned as a highly paid IT consultant before I had kids, invested in the first marital home.  It wasn’t a fortune, but it was enough to pay off the mortgage on the two bedroom flat in Hove where I was living as a single mum of 3 boys. Just as well not to have a mortgage, I thought, given how little I was earning at the time, temping as an office admin for a nightclub and barely scratching a living as a poet (and associate tutor for the University of Sussex).  Though what I really needed was a larger place. We were cramped in the flat.  One bathroom. A narrow ‘galley’ kitchen. The three boys, aged between 5 and 9 and sharing a single bedroom, were fighting constantly. But the divorce settlement didn’t seem like enough for a larger place. House prices in Brighton were rocketing, and after paying off the mortgage on the flat there was only a little left over.

One thing was for sure.  I needed a holiday. There had been the stress of the (violently contested) divorce, and just after the turn of the Millennium, a combination of circumstances had led to my hitting a suicidal rock bottom. A breakdown (during which I lost my temping work and barely held on to my university teaching) was followed by a few months building myself back to fully functional. I hadn’t had a holiday since my honeymoon ten years earlier. (When I left my husband in 1998 I took the kids for a week in Cornwall, but a chilly half-term alone in a caravan with three small boys is not a holiday).  To be blunt, I wanted to go somewhere tropical, swim in the sea, lie in a hammock, and have lots of sex.

Not just any old sex. No, Tantric sex. I’d read about it during my (nearly sex-free) marriage and was determined to get some training. I googled ‘tantric sex course’.   I know. You thought I was going to tell you how I manifested my amazing house and now I’m talking about sex. But that’s the thing. I manifested my house through sex.

‘Oh, right, now she’s really going off the deep end.’

No, really.  You see I thought Tantra was all about sex, but that’s how they trick you. They dangle amazing sex in front you and next thing you know, you’re moving energy with the power of love.  Bastards.

Tantra is actually about a Deep Soul Connection.  And I didn’t even believe in the soul.  Yes, I was notionally a poet, but a poet who actively banned her creative writing students from using the word ‘soul’. Only Seamus Heaney, I told them, is equipped to use the word ‘soul’. What the hell was a soul, anyway? I was raised by scientists (which is only one step up from raised by wolves). But dammit, I hadn’t read the small print. No. Google gives me a week’s tantric sex course in Costa Rica and all I can think is tropical weather, beaches, hammocks, somewhere I’ve never been before, no children, and really really good sex. The fact that my birthday fell in the middle of that week was A Sign. (Although I didn’t believe in signs then, because I didn’t believe in anything other than my material reality, so when I said A Sign what I meant was An Excuse).

This was a course for couples, and I wasn’t a couple. I did have a good friend that I had been sleeping with, on the quiet, for a few months. Nothing serious.  Neither of us wanted to get tangled up in a Relationship because Relationships (we had both learned) bring pain. We were not a couple. It was Just Sex.

‘Do you want to come with me to Costa Rica to do a Tantric sex course?  I’m paying.  Oh, there’s a second week, Advanced Tantra, what do you think?’

Guess what he said.

And then bloody hell if I didn’t find myself on my first night in this tropical paradise being asked to look into my lover’s eyes for ten minutes. Could I do it?  Could I hell. Ten seconds was pushing it.  Not an auspicious start.  But as a result of my monumental failure, something happened. We walked on the deserted volcanic-sand beach and had a breakthrough conversation. We started doing the exercises.  And the small print thing, the thing which terrified me, Deep Soul Connection, actually happened.  I had my first experiences of feeling into different kinds of energy. Looks of love vs looks of hate.  Putting up energetic barriers and taking them down.  The early evenings were spent on the upstairs balcony, beers in our hands, watching the moon rise over the Pacific as I struggled to get my head around the science of it.  Yes, theoretically we are all (everything is all) energy. Einstein proved that. But really, how could this stuff be real?  And yet I felt its reality; was experiencing it profoundly.

The second week, the ‘advanced’ week, was about using the energy of sex to manifest things you want. I’m pretty sure I hadn’t even heard of deliberate manifestation. It wouldn’t have made any sense to me.  What, you imagine stuff into being. Yes, alright, I’m a writer, that’s what I do, but I mean you imagine houses and cars and career success and your dreams become physical reality?

Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it. But hey, I was in a beautiful place, I had unexpectedly just fallen in love (that’s Deep Soul Connection for you) and as a result I was open to wonder and miracles. Plus I had known since ‘O’ Level Chemistry the bizarre fact that all this seemingly solid stuff was just a complex arrangement of charged particles and known since my Biology degree that there are lots of things that scientists can’t explain… so maybe, just maybe, there was more to this universe than met the eye.  I was willing to do the exercises, anyway.   Here is the one that led to the house.

Step 1: go to separate places and make a list of the key things you want out of your relationship.  (When we arrived we had told them we weren’t in a relationship. We wouldn’t even say ‘relationship’. It was the R-word. By the end of the first week we’d had a Tantric wedding ceremony. I know.)  I remember using a lot of abstract nouns. Pretty sure that wanting to be appreciated was my number one.

Step 2:  get together, compare lists and make a joint list: things you both want.  We agreed on my abstracts, and his practicalities: chiefly, that would never ask him to get a job/earn money (he doesn’t do jobs) and that a child might be a possibility. We agreed that we wanted a family home large enough for all of us (my kids, my cat, his dog), somewhere with a big kitchen where we could all sit down to dinner together (like we had being doing on the retreat). We agreed that the kitchen should be the warm heart of the home, and that it should be a place where visitors felt welcomed. That it would have an outside space big enough for a table and chairs.  ‘By the sea’, I said. ‘As close to the sea as this.’  Casa Punta Banco was a short stroll from the beach.  ‘But it doesn’t have to have a view.’ CLANG. I said this thinking I was being ‘reasonable’, because I had no intention of leaving Brighton, knew how much a house with sea view would cost there, and couldn’t see how I would come across £1.5 million any time this century.  I didn’t realise how very precisely the universe will take your order. When you say ‘hold the mayo’, it holds the mayo. But let’s continue.

Step 3: decide on an image of the two of you in that dreamed-of future, agree upon it, and then – when you are completely charged up with sexual energy – visualise it together for 30 seconds or so.  ‘Completely charged up with sexual energy’ happens quite a lot with Tantric sex, because – I’m sure you know this – the sexual magic is achieved by not coming.  John Mortimer, creator of Rumpole of the Bailey said (in the very year we learnt Tantra in Costa Rica):

‘My favourite position is called the plumber. You stay in all day, but nobody comes.’

The image we created in Step 3 was of the both of us in this heart-of-the-home kitchen, gazing out the window, him behind me with his arms around my belly, both of us feeling blissfully happy.  We did the visualisation twice in Costa Rica and then flew back to a bitterly cold England in February and forgot all about it.

Forgetting all about it, it turns out, was a critical step. The biggest issue people have with making conscious creation work for them is that they stay in ‘asking’ mode and never detach from the outcome sufficiently to allow it manifest. They visualise furiously but the thing doesn’t happen.  ‘Asking’ is a ‘pushing out’ kind of energy and it stops things coming in. So it probably helped a great deal that after the initial two creation moments in that magical place I returned to ‘reality’ and got on with my life. Our life, now.

That was February 2001. My lover-friend (now Tantric husband) moved in. I started looking for fractionally bigger places that I might actually be able to afford (he doesn’t do jobs, remember. We were not talking two salaries, or even one salary, because all I had was a freelance poet’s income).  I didn’t know how I could actually afford a bigger place but I chose to believe it might be possible. But nowhere felt right.  Viewing after viewing after viewing, and none of them ‘it’. The local estate agent got frustrated with me. He sent us to 1 Temple Street and said ‘if 1 Temple Street isn’t right, you come straight back here and tell me why not’.  1 Temple Street was amazing. It had an extraordinary basement that stretched under the road, way beyond the house’s footprint. I could have made part of that basement into a Gaming Dungeon for my sons and still have had room for a gym and a writing room and…. it didn’t feel like ‘our house’.  It had a brand new stainless steel kitchen and a brand new hotel-style bathroom, both of which I would have wanted to rip out for something less ‘cold’, had I not been conscious of the waste (and the cost).  So we went back to the estate agent and told him it didn’t have that certain something. We were looking for something different. Quirky. Warmer. Maybe something with lots of wood. He said

‘I’ve got just the place. We’re not even advertising it openly because it’s…. it’s unusual.’

‘Does it have 4 bedrooms?’

‘No, but you could taken an extra room off the garage.’

‘The garage?’

‘It has a four-car garage’.

Pause for breath while I take that in. A garage would save me easily 20 minutes a day: the 20 minutes I spent looking for/walking to/walking from a parking space. Months of my life if you added it up.  I barely dared hope for the next one.

‘Is there a study?’

‘You could convert the sauna room.’

‘It has a sauna? Where is this place?’

He showed us. It was right by the sea.

‘Why is the price so low? What’s wrong with it?’

‘Go and have a look.’

We went and had a look. The minute we stepped through the front door we turned to each other significantly. We hadn’t seen any of the house, but we could feel it. This was the place. Looking around the rooms only confirmed the decision that was made the second we stepped across the the threshold. We made an offer on the spot.

Why was this amazing place affordable? Because it looked like nothing from the outside and people want frontage. Because what was once a stable block in a brewery yard is now a bizarre-looking building in the middle of a car park. Because walking up to the front door, or walking around the building, every step is on someone else’s property. Because the man who had built it as his own private love nest had sunk into a broken-hearted depression and the kitchen wasn’t finished.  Because at the time, the huge building overshadowing it was semi-derelict and the hang-out of criminals and drug-addicts. Because the main thing you could see from the master bedroom suite was a burnt out car. You can’t have everything.

Or, if you don’t care about any of that stuff (and realise that in the future, the building next-door will either be refurbished or replaced with something smart because seafront property is worth a bomb), you can.  After a bumpy buying process (which is a manifestation story all of its own) we moved in to my dream house in May 2002.

I’ll stress again, we had totally forgotten about that visualisation.  And then, a few weeks after we moved in, I was washing up at the sink as dusk was falling one evening and my husband came up behind me and put his arms around my belly and we stood there gazing half out the window and half at our faces reflected there and it fell upon me like an avalanche:

‘This is it!’ I said. ‘The house we visualised!  Here we are, standing just as we’d pictured!  This is the house!’

Everything about it: the big kitchen at the heart of it, the first room you walk into when you come in, and from to which everything else connects (like arteries and veins); the warm feeling its wooden interior gives out, this big family home so very close to the sea….. and…

‘…. OH!’

‘It doesn’t have to have a view.’

Boy, does this house not have a view.  It takes not having a view very seriously. The windows on all but one side of the house are opaque as a condition of planning permission.

The only view from my house is this:


I laughed so much I was actually in pain.

Lesson: don’t write your limiting beliefs into your dream. Dream big, even though you don’t know how on earth you’re going to get there. Let the bloody house have a view!

Now your turn. Have you consciously created anything, large or small? And did you write in any limitations/conditions that also came true? Or are you interested in conscious creation but having difficulty with it? Let me know in the comments!

Want to get better at consciously creating good things in your life? Click here to subscribe to my mailing list and get my printable 1-page resource guide “6 Touchstones of Conscious Creation”: everything I’ve learned about conscious creation in 15 years boiled down to the essentials in a printable one-page resource guide.

NOTE: Credit where credit’s due: our fantastic tantra/manifestation teachers in Costa Rica were Pala Copeland and Al Link. You can find out about them and their courses (including home study courses) here.



15 thoughts on “Manifesting My Dream House

  • January 21, 2016 at 1:05 pm

    It feels like reading a confession, but in a good way. Thanks for sharing it – much food for thought here, at a moment when I’m very ready to hear it.

    • January 21, 2016 at 1:38 pm

      Thanks, Jo. Yes, it is a confession. I’ve kept this stuff under wraps for so long that it just became unbearable. It felt like time to share.

  • January 21, 2016 at 3:11 pm

    So you don’t feel quite alone, here’s a comment. Nicely written piece (as you’d expect 🙂 ) but I can’t quite sign up to the, this-thing-happened-I-felt-this-then-that-thing-happened-so-it-must-be-connected malarkey (such an apt word,love your use of it).

    I’ve often felt that there is something intangible just outside our rational experience of the corporeal world, a sort of peripheral spirituality that connects us. Perhaps I just need to open up to it more but the sceptic in me suggests your success (and I so want to see this amazing house) lies with your determination to succeed after a horrible divorce, your love and need to provide for your boys ( I too have 3 ) and your sheer hard work. If you need to call it something else, go and shout it but I think the credit lies closer to your, dare I say it, soul.

    • January 21, 2016 at 5:22 pm

      I completely understand your scepticism, Nick. I would be sceptical too, but for many other experiences of this kind of thing over the last 15 years (some of them positively bizarre). As one of my favourite teachers says, “words don’t teach”; to believe in this stuff (to the extent that I do) you have to have direct experience of it working (repeatedly, because once or twice is just fluke). I agree one has to actively work towards goals: you can’t sit at home and visualise something and hope it’ll float to you! But I’ve found the success of that hard work depends hugely on mindset, and if you can positively adjust your mindset (by creating a mental image – here, a joint vision – and making it feel ‘real’) then things that formerly seemed impossible can become achievable. I really *never* thought I’d be able to afford a larger place to live, let alone one as nice as this one – I wouldn’t have looked therefore would not have found, and or if *had* looked from a more negative (or as I would have put it, ‘realistic’) headset, I might not have ‘held out’ for the one that matched our idea of perfection. That’s my ‘material world’ explanation. But I couldn’t agree more with your last sentence. It’s not big ‘outside’ forces, it’s the inner game that matters. Thanks for commenting!

  • January 24, 2016 at 5:14 am

    Ros, I wanted to weep when I read this. You are speaking for so many women…
    So… Armageddon doesn’t happen, but visualisation does!
    That will do for me…..
    Thank you for your openness: I look forward to visualising my next move…

    • January 24, 2016 at 11:09 am

      Thank you for your lovely message Therese. I am encouraged to continue sharing these experiences for those (yes, mostly women, in my experience) who are inspired to try the same. More soon.

      • January 24, 2016 at 2:21 pm

        Well Ros, it is all so strange – or is it?
        Last night I couldn’t sleep, so I got up, made a cup of tea, grabbed my computer and went back to bed. Having browsed various sites, I ended up on Rightmove, where nothing really appealed to me, and where I found nothing that I could afford. NOTHING!
        I couldn’t really think of anything else to look at, but then the thought came into my head that I might have a peep at how your Conscious Creator site was coming along…
        The first thing that hit me was the “Dream House” OMG! and then the divorce! TICK and oh! the breakdown! TICK and the no money thing! Yes! TICK!
        And my thought was: “this remarkable woman really understands about being embroiled in the mire”.
        Off I went – to seek a site dedicated to Creative Consciousness. After reading a few blogs I was able to comprehend and synthesise what has been happening to my being recently.
        I totally love my work as a freelance tutor; recently giving up a long-term part time job, in a different field, because I couldn’t stand the negative energy surrounding it. The lack of salary was desperate, but I stood firm and suddenly new tutorial clients came to the fore! I was also able to pay off all my debts,through releasing some pension money early – helped along in this, by the kindest, most cooperative administrator on this Earth!
        Does this all sound familiar?
        Then I realised that, recently, thoughts of someone who used to play a regular part in my life had been brought back to mind by a totally random text from a friend…
        Finally, by one pm I had told my partner, who lives abroad, that I don’t want to have sex with him next time he comes to visit -Tantric or otherwise. (Sorry Ros.) My body has asked me to reclaim it for a while!
        Not a bad morning’s work, eh?
        I await my own next episode with excitement.

        • January 26, 2016 at 7:41 am

          Therese, that’s a great morning’s work! And don’t apologise about the no-sex thing, there are definitely times in everyone’s life when that’s exactly what’s needed. You are following your inner guidance, and – as you have seen with giving up a job you disliked for something you loved – when you do that, the support you need will surface as if by magic. Fascinating stuff. I’ll keep you posted here, and you must keep me posted too!

  • January 24, 2016 at 11:20 am

    Well I started reading this thinking it sounded mad, etc, and now I just think I read it because I really, REALLY need some positive energy in my life. Thanks Ros x

  • January 28, 2016 at 10:22 am

    Dear Ros, your open honesty is captivating. I’m on the train to a business meeting in Willesden so this definitely brightened up my journey. I remember the first time I walked into that kitchen in the summer after my first wife died. I’d like to believe this stuff but somehow just can’t. I’m not sure what is stopping me. Something in me says actually EVERYTHING I need I already have, if only I can learn to see it that way. We’re all already doing our dream job, living in our dream house, having our dream relationship. Living in Wales I often look up at the stars and feel my (positive) insignificance. Go Girl, you are an inspiration and a dear friend. Love S xx

  • January 28, 2016 at 11:45 pm

    Hi Ros. This is good to know – yes a very public confession but great to read and share with you. I wish you had told me this years ago. Much love. Bob

  • February 4, 2016 at 12:20 pm

    Well Ros,
    All has gone rather topsy -turvey since my last post, but it reinforces
    everything that you have been writing about in your “Confessions.”
    So…”Listen up”world… because Ros Barber really knows what she is talking about!
    Basically, a week ago I didn’t even intend to sleep with my partner when he came to visit
    me. Emotions ran high and he became extremely angry and I am talking as extreme as your “view – from – the – window” extreme. But it was via Skype so I was able to hang onto my integrity and stand firm. (No pun intended: lol)
    Although I had read an article about “Talking yourself INTO divorce” and how to change negative energy flow, I had discarded it, persuading myself that it was irrelevant to my situation. I was doing “selective” creative consciousness.
    The relationship was over. NO negotiation.
    Then I shared this with a long standing friend, who has recently started studying mindfulness, and he gave me a totally unexpected response:
    “That guy really loved you and he is fighting for his future; any man would…
    We get married in under two weeks time!
    An open mind, heart and spirit.
    The dissipation of all the irrelevant energy blocks.
    To think that I was led to your site for the sole purpose of researching”Material”
    and am ending up with a husband and a life in France – which two weeks ago was anathema to me!
    Keep sharing Ros!

    • February 8, 2016 at 1:10 pm

      Fascinating, Therese, how quickly things can turn around when you shift your energy around them. Keep me posted!

      • February 25, 2016 at 1:45 am

        Hi Ros

        I can recognise what happened re your dream house. I tried visualisation and it worked – not sensationally and not a house – but enough to convince me.

        Thank you. You’ve just reminded me that it can work. I hope to start again – soon.

  • September 6, 2016 at 1:45 am

    wonderful and inspiring


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