I approached this from the perspective of the space of possibilities. As you probably know (and if not, here’s my take), we live within a space of infinite possibilities. Each of us chooses from this space according to our thoughts and feelings. Sometimes we succeed; sometimes we get stuck. We might hit a salary ceiling, no matter how hard we try or how much we attract money, love, or save—it just won’t budge. Or we might see a friend who seems fine on the outside but sits alone, uncertain where to turn.
Meanwhile, everything they—or we—need is already in that space of possibilities, waiting. It’s waiting for us, not the other way around. That’s an important understanding, but it’s not the main point. Today, I found the main point, and I want to share it with you now.
So there I was, soaking in the warm—okay, scorching—Los Angeles sun, fully connected to the surrounding reality. The temperature of reality matched the temperature of my being, and I asked myself, reality, and the entire space of possibilities one simple question: “HOW?”
Reality didn’t respond like a nightingale singing summer songs. Instead, a chain of images and insights unfolded.
Everything we desire—that exists in the space of possibilities—no matter how many pieces it’s broken into, can be summed up under one big umbrella: abundance. People define abundance differently, but one thing is certain: abundance includes everything we need, want, or might require.
The problem with hitting the ceiling on the way to abundance is that many of us—myself included—mistake abundance for a thing or phenomenon. We turn it into an element of itself, like needing a ticket to get a ticket for a train to a bright future. It’s nonsense and a dead end—a vicious circle.
In reality, it’s simpler. The answer lies within the question itself. Abundance isn’t a factor, an element, or even a flow pouring out of a horn. Abundance is the space of possibilities itself. It’s the dimension or zone of that space—a qualitative measure, with a hint of quantitative, though that doesn’t matter much. Abundance is like a stream—the Gulf Stream or a morning mist—something that cannot be obtained, achieved, or attracted.
The only thing we can do to make abundance part of our lives is to give it space—to allow it to fill itself.
Here’s the chain of images I saw: my abundance felt like a wandering zone, circling me, created within the space of possibilities by my desires, aspirations, and preferences. It’s possible to enter this zone (maybe the Twilight Zone?), but often we’re not ready to accept what our zone of abundance holds.
It’s no accident people say life is full of success, love, joy, and prosperity. The fullness of our life space with abundance—that’s where the key lies.
Immediately, I pictured a glowing, iridescent golden cloud—my abundance—around me. But I was packed tight with all kinds of clutter, leaving almost no room for abundance to enter my life. I closed my eyes, asking what I needed to do.
The answer came clearly, echoing the language of Landmark—something I had understood before but now saw from a completely new angle. To let abundance into our life space, we must become the space itself. We need to free up our life space to be filled. We must become a place where something can land.
This isn’t about physical clutter—like needing to move out of an old apartment to get a new one. It’s about old connections, fears, views, and ties: the past accumulated as dead memories and heavy weights in our life space. Thoughts that trap us in past defeats, fears that coat our consciousness with gray slime, experiences long gone but resurrected by us, like ghostly echoes with trembling fingers.
I imagined myself as a large transparent vessel, seeing all those ghosts of the past I refused to let go. It wasn’t about psychology, blame, or analysis—who was right or wrong didn’t matter. What mattered was how full that vessel was with everything that blocked abundance from entering.
When I allowed the past to finally rest where it belonged—in the past—I felt the walls of my vessel expand, open, dissolve. I began to become space without boundaries, merging with my abundance.
