Part V is the last installment of this series.
The series
Introduction
Part I – The Attitude That Precedes You
Part II – The Scientific Frame: Unus Mundus
Part III – We Are Strange Attractors
Part IV – The Dark Side
Part V – Practical Kairomancy: Working with the Yes
Practical Kairomancy: Working with the Yes
So here we are. You understand the theory. You know that consciousness and matter are woven together, that you’re a magnet in an iron globe, and that the universe says yes to what you carry. You’ve accepted that you have the power, and the responsibility, to choose your attitude.
Now what? How do you actually work with this in the messy reality of a Tuesday afternoon when you’re anxious about money, frustrated with your partner, and facing a deadline you’re not sure you can meet?
This is where kairomancy moves from philosophy to practice. From understanding to application. From “interesting idea” to a “way of life.”
The first principle: You have to be deliberate about what you’re asking for.
And by “asking for,” I don’t mean making vision boards or reciting affirmations (though those can be useful if done right). I mean, what are you actually asking for, underneath your conscious intentions? What is your body asking for? What is your habitual emotional state requesting from the universe?
Because (and this is important) the universe responds to the real ask, not the stated one.
You might say you want a relationship, but if you’re carrying “I’m not enough” or “people always leave” or “I’ll probably get hurt again,” that’s what you’re actually asking for. That’s the field you’re generating. And the universe will say yes to that, the underlying frequency, not the surface wish.
You might say you want success, but if you’re carrying “I don’t deserve this” or “good things don’t happen to people like me” or “I’m a fraud waiting to be exposed,” those are your real requests. And they will be fulfilled with perfect fidelity.
This is why Moss emphasises that we need to check what we’re carrying “in our body and our energy field,” not just in our thoughts. The thoughts are the tip of the iceberg. The body holds the real programme, the actual broadcast.
So the practice starts with ruthless honesty: what am I actually asking for right now? What is my body asking for? What is my energy asking for?
And then, if the answer doesn’t match what you consciously want, you have work to do.
The work is twofold: clearing and claiming.
Clearing means identifying and releasing the patterns, beliefs, and emotional charges that are asking for what you don’t want. This isn’t a one-time thing. It’s archaeological. You dig, you find something, you clear it, you dig deeper, you find more.
Maybe it’s a story you’ve been telling yourself since childhood: “I’m not the kind of person who…” or “Things never work out for me when…” or “I always end up…” These stories are magnetic fields. They have to be seen, questioned, felt fully, and released—not with force, but with awareness. Once they’re conscious, they lose some of their automatic power.
Maybe it’s an emotional charge around a past wound that’s still broadcasting distress. The betrayal you haven’t fully processed. The failure you’re still ashamed of. The loss you haven’t grieved. These unmetabolised experiences sit in your field like static, distorting the signal you’re trying to send. They have to be felt through, integrated, and allowed to complete.
This clearing work is often uncomfortable. It requires you to feel things you’ve been avoiding, admit things about yourself you’d rather not see, and let go of stories that have been organising your reality for years. But it’s necessary. You can’t generate a clear field while you’re still carrying uncleared debris.
And then: claiming.
Claiming means deliberately embodying the state, the attitude, and the frequency of what you actually want to magnetise. Not pretending you already have it. Not faking confidence you don’t feel. But finding the feeling of it in your body and choosing to inhabit that feeling, even before circumstances have changed.
What does it feel like to be capable? Not in your head, but in your body. Where do you feel it? What’s the quality of your breath? Your posture? Your gaze? Can you find that feeling for thirty seconds? A minute? Can you practise moving through your day from that state?
What does it feel like to be abundant? Not “I have a million dollars” (which your nervous system won’t believe), but “I have enough, and more is available to me.” What’s the texture of that? How does an abundant person hold their body? How do they make decisions? How do they respond to small setbacks?
What does it feel like to be loved? Not “someone specific loves me,” but the simple state of being someone who is lovable, who experiences love, who lives in a friendly universe. Can you find that somewhere in your memory, in your body? Can you practise carrying it?
This is not visualisation or imagination, exactly. It’s embodiment. You’re finding the actual felt sense in your nervous system and training yourself to live from it. You’re teaching your body a new baseline, a new normal. And as you do that, your field shifts. The magnetism shifts. What you attract shifts.
There’s a powerful practice here that Moss points to but doesn’t spell out explicitly, so I’ll make it concrete:
The “As If” Experiment
For one day—or even one hour—move through your life as if the thing you want is already organising your reality.
Not as if you already have the specific outcome. But as if you’re already the person who would have that outcome. As if you already carry that frequency.
If you want to be a successful writer, spend an hour moving through your life as if you already are one. How would a successful writer approach their morning coffee? How would they handle an interruption? What would their relationship to the blank page be? You’re not pretending to be published; you’re embodying the state of being a writer who does their work with confidence and consistency.
If you want a healthy relationship, spend a day moving through your life as if you’re already someone who’s in one. How would that person treat themselves? What boundaries would they have? How would they speak to the barista, the stranger on the street, or their own reflection in the mirror? You’re not pretending someone specific loves you; you’re embodying the state of being someone who experiences and generates love.
This practice does something the mind can’t do: it gives your nervous system direct experience of the state you’re trying to magnetise. And the nervous system learns through experience, not through reasoning. Do this enough, and the “as if” starts to become the actual. The field stabilises at the new frequency.
The Timing Question: When to Change Course vs. When to Change Attitude
Here’s where it gets tricky. Because sometimes the right move is to change your external circumstances, not just your attitude about them. Sometimes the job really is wrong for you. Sometimes the relationship really is toxic. Sometimes you’re not attracting difficulty because of your attitude—you’re in an actually difficult situation that requires action, not adjustment.
So how do you know? When do you change the situation, and when do you change your attitude about the situation?
There’s no formula, but here’s a guideline: If you’ve changed your attitude, really changed it, in your body, not just in your thoughts, and the situation still feels wrong, still drains you, still moves you away from your deeper life, it’s probably time to change the situation.
But if you find yourself repeatedly ending up in similar situations with different people or in different places. Same pattern, different setting. That’s a sign that the situation isn’t the problem. Your field is. And no amount of external change will help until you change what you’re carrying.
The person who keeps attracting controlling partners isn’t unlucky in love; they’re broadcasting something that controlling people pick up on. Leaving one controlling partner for another won’t solve it. Changing what makes them attractive to controllers will.
The person who keeps getting passed over for promotion despite being qualified isn’t necessarily in a broken system, they might be carrying “I don’t deserve this” so loudly that decision-makers unconsciously respond to it. Changing companies won’t fix it. Changing the underlying field will.
This is the spiral path Moss talks about: “Each time life loops around to where you think you were before, you’ve risen to a slightly higher level, so you can see things with greater awareness and, hopefully, make better choices.”
You’re not going in circles. You’re spiralling. Each return to a familiar challenge is an opportunity to meet it from a different field, a different frequency. And when you do—when you finally show up to the familiar challenge with a genuinely shifted attitude—the challenge itself transforms. Or you realise it was never really the challenge you thought it was.
The Daily Practice
Kairomancy isn’t something you do occasionally when things go wrong. It’s a constant practice of calibration. Moss suggests what he calls the OATH—being Open, Available, Thankful, and ready to Honour the Kairos moments when they come.
But underneath that is the simpler, more fundamental practice: multiple times a day, check your field.
Before you walk into the meeting, check: what am I carrying?
Before you start your work, check: what frequency am I broadcasting?
When something goes sideways, check: what was I asking for underneath?
When something goes beautifully right, check: What was I carrying that magnetised this?
The practice is observation first, adjustment second. You’re developing sensitivity to your own field the way a musician develops sensitivity to pitch. And once you can hear it clearly, you can tune it.
This is how conscious magnetism becomes a way of life rather than an occasional technique. You’re always working with the yes. Always aware that what you carry is what you’ll receive. Always choosing—as much as humanly possible—to embody what you want to magnetise rather than what you fear.
Not perfectly. The Trickster will have opinions. Life will throw curveballs. You’ll forget, fall back into old patterns, and get hijacked by strong emotions.
But each time you remember, you strengthen the capacity. Each time you choose consciously, you make the next conscious choice a little easier. Each time you shift your field deliberately, you prove to yourself that the field is shiftable.
And slowly, or sometimes suddenly, you notice: your life is rhyming differently. Different people are showing up. Different opportunities are appearing. The “coincidences” that find you match a different frequency than they used to.
The universe is still saying yes.
But you’ve changed what you’re asking for.
The Paradox and the Mystery
Here’s where we have to be careful. Because everything I’ve just described—the magnetism, the field, the conscious choice of attitude—can start to sound like a system. Like a formula. Like if you just get your attitude right and hold the correct frequency, you can control outcomes.
And that’s not quite it.
Because the universe is not a vending machine. You don’t just insert the right attitude and receive the corresponding result. Reality is far stranger, far more playful, and far more alive than that.
This is the paradox at the heart of kairomancy: You have tremendous power to shape your reality through what you carry. And you’re not in control. Both things are true simultaneously, and holding both at once is essential.
Moss quotes Jung’s stone at Bollingen, the inscription about time being a child playing a board game: “Synchronicity is a child at play, moving pieces on a board. On our side of reality, we see the pieces move, but not the hand that moves them.”
There’s an intelligence at work, call it synchronicity, call it the Tao, call it the living universe that’s playing a game we can participate in but not dominate. We can learn the rules, develop skills, and make good moves. But we’re not the only player. And sometimes the game has moves we never anticipated, outcomes we couldn’t have designed, and reversals that seem cruel until we see them from a different angle years later.
This is why Moss insists, “We are less interested in how and why these things work than that they do work and offer a rich harvest if we work—or rather, play—with them.”
Play. Not control. Not manipulation. Play.
The child playing the board game isn’t following a rigid formula. The child is creative, spontaneous, and responsive to the moment. Sometimes the child changes the rules mid-game. Sometimes the child tips the board over and starts something completely different. The child is serious about the play but not attached to any particular outcome. The play itself is the point.
This is the consciousness we need to bring to kairomancy. Yes, be deliberate about your attitude. Yes, work consciously with your field. Yes, recognise that you’re magnetising reality with what you carry. And stay loose. Stay curious. Stay open to the game going in directions you didn’t plan.
Because here’s what happens when you try to control it too tightly: you get brittle. You become so attached to specific outcomes that you miss the actual gifts being offered. You hold your “positive attitude” so rigidly that it becomes a new form of defensiveness. You’re no longer playing—you’re gripping.
And the universe responds to gripping the same way it responds to everything else: Yes. More of that. Tighter constraints. More evidence that you need to control things. Situations that activate your control patterns.
The kairomancer’s art is finding the balance: strong intention and light touch. Clear direction and willingness to be redirected. Conscious magnetism and surrender to mystery.
This is why Moss emphasises that we’re walking in many worlds simultaneously, that the secret logic of our lives involves “the crisscrossing of event tracks from parallel worlds.” Reality is not simple, not linear, and not reducible to cause and effect. There are multiple influences, multiple levels, and multiple players in this game.
You set an intention. You embody the frequency. You do the work. And then… something unexpected happens. Not what you planned, but somehow better. Or not better—different. Strange. Sideways. Exactly what you needed but not what you thought you wanted.
Or: You do everything right, hold the perfect attitude, generate a clear field, and nothing happens. Or the wrong thing happens. Or disaster strikes.
What then?
This is where the mystery lives. And this is where dogmatic “law of attraction” thinking becomes not just wrong but dangerous, because it has no room for the mystery. It demands that everything be explainable, that every outcome be traceable to attitude and vibration. And when it doesn’t work—when the cancer comes despite the positive thinking, when the business fails despite the abundance consciousness, when the relationship ends despite the loving energy—there’s only blame. You didn’t believe hard enough. Your vibration wasn’t pure enough. You had hidden blocks.
But Moss is wiser than that. He knows about the Trickster. He knows about the spiral path where you come back to familiar challenges but at a higher level. He knows about the principle “by what you fall, you may rise”—that sometimes the breakdown is necessary for the breakthrough, that sometimes the gift comes disguised as loss.
He knows, in other words, that we don’t know. We can’t know. The game is more complex than our understanding of it.
This is actually liberating. It means you’re not responsible for everything that happens. You’re not a god who controls all outcomes through the purity of your consciousness. You’re a participant in a larger intelligence, a player in a game that includes you but is not about you.
Your job is not to control every outcome. Your job is to bring the best consciousness you can to each moment, to carry what you want to carry, to generate the field you want to generate, and then to pay attention to what actually happens, including and especially when it’s not what you expected.
Because sometimes—often, even—the universe says yes to something you didn’t know you were asking for. Something deeper than your conscious intention. Something your soul was requesting even while your ego was planning something else.
You think you’re asking for a specific job, but what you’re really asking for is a life that challenges you to grow in unexpected directions. The job falls through. You’re devastated. And then something else opens that takes you down a path you never imagined but that, five years later, you recognise as exactly right.
You think you’re asking for a relationship to last, but what you’re really asking for is to learn how to love yourself. The relationship ends. You’re shattered. And in the shattering, something reorganises. You discover capacities you didn’t know you had. You become someone you couldn’t have become if the relationship had continued.
This doesn’t mean the loss wasn’t real or the pain wasn’t valid. It doesn’t mean everything happens for a sanitised, greeting-card reason. It means the game is deep, and the moves aren’t always readable in the moment.
Jung and Pauli talked about this when they explored synchronicity. They weren’t claiming that consciousness creates reality in a simple, mechanical way. They were pointing to something more subtle: an acausal connecting principle, a meaningful patterning that links inner and outer events without one causing the other in any linear sense.
Synchronicity isn’t you manifesting what you want through the power of your thoughts. It’s the universe organising itself into meaningful patterns that your consciousness participates in but doesn’t originate. You’re in the pattern, influencing it, shaped by it, co-creating it. But you’re not the author of it.
This is the humility that has to accompany the power. Yes, your attitude matters. Yes, your field is creative. Yes, you’re magnetising reality. And there are forces at work larger than your personal will, intelligences playing through you that have perspectives you can’t see, and plot lines unfolding that will only make sense in retrospect.
The kairomancer holds both: radical responsibility and radical trust. Conscious participation and surrender to the larger game.
In practical terms, this means: Do your work. Choose your attitude. Generate your field. Take your actions. And then let go of the outcome. Not with detachment or indifference, but with trust that what comes, even if it’s not what you planned, is workable. Is data. Is the next move in a game you’re learning to play but will never completely master.
Moss says it plainly: “The way will show the way.” You don’t need to see the whole path before you start walking. You just need to take the next step from the best consciousness you can bring, and trust that the path will reveal itself as you move.
This is the Spanish saying he quotes: “Wayfarer, there is no way, you make the way by walking it.”
Not “you control the way.” Not “you determine every aspect of the way.” You make the way by walking it. The way emerges in response to your walking. But it’s not predetermined. It’s co-created, moment by moment, between your choices and the field’s response, between your intention and the universe’s play.
And sometimes—often—the universe plays Trickster. Things fall apart at the threshold. The GPS sends you down the wrong road that turns out to be exactly right. You lose what you were clutching and discover what you actually needed. The disappointment becomes the doorway. The failure becomes the teaching.
Moss reminds us: “If nothing goes wrong, you do not have much of a story.” The Trickster isn’t the enemy of kairomancy, he’s an essential part of it. He keeps it alive, unpredictable, and real. He makes sure you don’t get too comfortable with your formulas, too convinced of your control, or too rigid in your certainty.
He’s the reminder that this is play, not engineering. Mystery, not mechanism.
So you practise. You check your field. You choose your attitude. You work with the magnetism consciously. You get better at it. You see results. Doors open. Synchronicities multiply. Your life starts to rhyme in beautiful ways.
And then something doesn’t work. Something breaks. Something comes from left field that scrambles all your careful frequency tuning.
And you remember: ‘Oh, right.’ Child at play. Pieces moving on a board. Hands I cannot see.
And you adjust. You work with what came instead of what you expected. You look for the gift in the disruption, the teaching in the breakdown, and the hidden rightness in what seemed wrong.
Not because everything is perfect or meant to be. But because this is how you stay in the game. This is how you keep playing.
With power and humility. With intention and surrender. With consciousness and mystery.
Both.
Always both.
Conclusion: The Daily Practice of Conscious Magnetism
Let’s return to where we started. You’re standing outside that door, about to walk into the meeting.
But now you know something you didn’t know before. You know that whatever you’re carrying—the knot in your stomach, the rehearsed defences, the braced-for-impact tension—is already in that room. It got there before you did. It’s shaping the field you’re about to enter, magnetising certain responses, repelling others, and setting up the encounter before a single word is spoken.
You pause. You check.
What am I carrying right now?
Not as a judgement. Just as data. What’s the actual texture of your presence in this moment? Fear? Defence? Resentment? Or maybe—if you’ve been doing the work—curiosity? Open alertness? A kind of grounded readiness that doesn’t need to know how things will go?
You feel it in your body. Your shoulders. Your jaw. Your breath. The quality of your attention.
And then, and this is the practice, you choose. Not perfectly. Not with complete control over your nervous system. But you choose what you want to feed, what you want to strengthen, and what field you want to generate from here.
Maybe you take three deep breaths and feel your feet on the ground. Maybe you remember a time you handled something difficult well. Maybe you simply acknowledge the fear instead of pretending it’s not there, and in the acknowledging, it softens from panic into alert readiness.
The field shifts. Just a little. But a little is enough.
Because here’s what you’ve learned: the universe says yes to what you are, not what you’re pretending to be. And you’ve just shifted, even slightly, what you are in this moment.
You open the door.
And the meeting… might go exactly as you feared. Or it might surprise you. Or it might be neither good nor bad but simply what happens, and what you do with it will matter more than how it unfolds.
But whatever happens, you’re not walking in blind anymore. You’re not at the complete mercy of unconscious patterns, broadcasting distress and wondering why everything’s difficult. You’re participating consciously. You’re in the game.
This is what it means to live as a kairomancer, to practise conscious magnetism as a way of life: you recognise that you’re always broadcasting. Always generating a field. Always magnetising something.
The only question is whether you’re doing it consciously or unconsciously. Whether you’re choosing what you carry or being chosen by it. Whether you’re playing or being played.
And consciousness, it turns out, makes all the difference.
Not because it gives you control over every outcome—we’ve established that it doesn’t, that the game is larger than your understanding, and that mystery and Trickster are built into the fabric of things.
But because it gives you agency. Power. Partnership with the creative forces that shape reality. You’re no longer a passive recipient of whatever circumstances arrive. You’re a co-creator, working with the magnetism that was always there but that you’re now wielding deliberately.
The practice is simple. Deceptively simple. But simple is not the same as easy.
Multiple times a day—before meetings, before starting work, before difficult conversations, when things go wrong, when things go unexpectedly right—pause and check:
What am I carrying right now?
What am I broadcasting?
Is this what I want to be magnetic for?
And if the answer is no, you have the power to shift. Not always dramatically. Not always completely. But a shift is possible. It’s always possible. This is the one freedom that can never be taken from you: the power to choose your attitude, to adjust your field, to work with the magnetism consciously.
The specific practices we’ve explored:
Develop your personal science of shivers—learn to trust your body’s knowing before your mind’s explanation.
Do regular attitude checks, asking not just what you’re thinking but what you’re carrying in your body and energy field.
Practise the “as if” experiment—move through your life as if you already embody the state you want to magnetise.
Clear the old patterns and charges that are asking for what you don’t want.
Claim the frequencies you do want by finding them as felt senses in your body and training yourself to inhabit them.
Stay loose. Play. Remember, you’re participating in a mystery larger than your understanding.
The larger implications:
If this is even partially true—if consciousness and matter are woven together, if you’re a magnet in an iron globe, if the universe says yes to what you carry—then the most powerful thing you can do is become conscious of what you’re broadcasting.
Not to control everything. Not to bend reality to your will. But to take responsibility for your participation in reality’s unfolding. To recognise that you’re not separate from what happens—you’re woven into it, influencing it, co-creating it through the field you generate moment by moment.
This changes how you move through your day. You can’t be casual about your inner weather anymore; you can’t afford to marinate in resentment or carry around chronic anxiety without recognising you’re sending those out as requests, as magnetic forces that will draw corresponding circumstances back to you.
You become careful—not paranoid, but careful—about what you feed, what you rehearse, and what you allow to become your baseline frequency. Because you know now that the baseline isn’t neutral. It’s creative.
And you become grateful. Because once you see how responsive reality is, how much the world shifts in response to your shifts, how often synchronicity appears when you’re in the right state—you realise you’re not alone in a dead universe, struggling against indifferent matter.
You’re in a living conversation. The world is speaking to you. You’re speaking back through what you carry. It’s responsive. It’s alive. It says yes.
To all of it. To what serves you and what doesn’t. To your highest possibilities and your lowest patterns. To your consciousness and your unconsciousness with perfect equality.
Which means the game—and it is a game, remember, a child at play—is always available. You’re always, in every moment, choosing what to magnetise. And the universe is always, in every moment, responding.
Not mechanically. Not predictably. Not the way you might want or expect. But responding. Saying yes. Arranging itself into patterns that rhyme with your inner state in ways that are sometimes obvious, sometimes subtle, and sometimes only visible years later.
The invitation, then, is this:
Start treating your attitude like the creative force it is. Not as optional or decorative or merely reactive, but as the primary lever you have for shaping your experience of reality.
Start small if you need to. Pick one situation today—one meeting, one conversation, one moment when you’d normally go unconscious—and bring awareness to what you’re carrying. Check the field. Choose deliberately, even if the choice is just to breathe differently or stand differently or remember something true.
Notice what happens. Not in a desperate, “Did it work?” way, but with curiosity. With scientific interest in your own experiment. The universe said yes to something—what was it? What did you broadcast, consciously or unconsciously, that got reflected back?
And then do it again tomorrow. And the next day. Not perfectly. You’ll forget. You’ll fall back into old patterns. You’ll catch yourself broadcasting the exact frequency you don’t want to be magnetic for.
That’s fine. That’s part of it. The practice isn’t perfection. The practice is waking up, over and over, to what you’re doing. Catching yourself one moment sooner than you did yesterday. Choosing consciously one more time today than you did last week.
Because here’s what happens with practice: the gap between stimulus and response widens. The time between unconscious broadcast and conscious awareness shrinks. You get faster at catching yourself, more skilled at shifting, and more fluent in the language of your own field.
And your life starts to rhyme differently. Subtly at first, then more obviously. Different people show up. Different opportunities appear. The same challenges come around, but you meet them from different ground, and they transform in response.
You start to notice: Oh. The universe is saying yes. It always was. I just didn’t realise I was the one doing the asking.
And once you realise that—really realise it, not as a concept but as a lived experience—everything changes.
Not because your circumstances magically become perfect. But because you’re no longer helpless in the face of them. You have power. Real power. Not over every outcome, but over the one thing that actually matters: what you carry, what you broadcast, and what you magnetise.
You’re conscious now. Awake to the game. Participating deliberately rather than stumbling through blind.
You’re a magnet in an iron globe, and you know it.
And knowing it, you can play.
With intention and surrender. With power and humility. With consciousness and trust in the mystery that holds consciousness.
The universe is still saying yes.
But you—you’ve changed what you’re asking for.
And that, finally, is the magic you’ve been doing all along.
You just didn’t know it.
Now you do.
So: What are you going to carry into your next moment?
Choose carefully. Choose consciously. Choose in your body, not just your mind.
And then watch—with curiosity, with playfulness, with scientific interest in the miracle you’re participating in—as the world says yes.
It always does.
It always has.
The only question is: Yes to what?
The series
Introduction
Part I – The Attitude That Precedes You
Part II – The Scientific Frame: Unus Mundus
Part III – We Are Strange Attractors
Part IV – The Dark Side
Part V – Practical Kairomancy: Working with the Yes
