Visualization Isn’t What You Think It is

When I say the word visualization, what comes to mind?

Someone sitting cross-legged with their eyes closed? A motivational speaker telling you to picture a Ferrari? Maybe the whole thing feels a little “woo woo.” I get it. But I think visualization has gotten the wrong reputation because people confuse it with daydreaming. I don’t think they’re the same thing — not even close.

This morning I was sitting outside on my lanai eating breakfast when I caught myself doing something I hadn’t consciously noticed in a long time. I was visualizing. Not because I sat down with the intention of doing it. It just happened.

As I thought about it, I realized I probably do this hundreds of times throughout the day. My mind constantly rehearses the goals that matter most to me. Sometimes it’s a difficult conversation I know I need to have. Sometimes it’s a business decision. Sometimes it’s the future version of the business I’ll have one day. Sometimes it’s the house I have my eye on buying.

Then another realization hit me. I’ve been visualizing for as long as I can remember. But I’ve been doing it very intentionally for about the last twenty-five years.

The first person who ever taught me visualization was my wrestling coach, Coach Martin. Before big dual meets and tournaments, we’d finish practice by lying on the wrestling mats — on our bellies, of course — with our eyes closed while he walked us through the match. I can still remember the butterflies. My heart would race. I’d feel nervous before I had even stepped onto the mat.

At the time, I thought the goal was confidence. Looking back, I think the goal was something much bigger.

It was rehearsal.

That’s the biggest difference between visualization and daydreaming. Daydreaming is centered around the outcome. Visualization is centered around the process. When people daydream, they’re usually imagining a fantasy. It feels good in the moment, but somewhere in the back of their mind there’s disbelief. They don’t truly believe they’re becoming that person. The fantasy exists for entertainment more than transformation.

Real visualization feels completely different. Visualization isn’t simply seeing yourself win. It’s mentally rehearsing everything that has to happen before you do — the adversity, the setbacks, the difficult conversations, the uncertainty, the emotions, the choices you’ll have to make when nobody else is watching. It’s rehearsing the process so many times that when reality finally presents it to you, it no longer feels unfamiliar.

Over the years I’ve visualized growing my gym to over 300 members, paying off my student loans, making six figures before I turned thirty, opening a second gym, buying my first house through a bidding war, and countless other goals. Did visualization magically make those things happen? I don’t think so. But I do think it repeatedly reminded me who I was trying to become. It kept my attention focused on opportunities that aligned with those goals. It mentally rehearsed the decisions long before I ever had to make them.

Maybe that’s also why I don’t completely dismiss the idea of manifestation. I think there’s more overlap than people realize. But that’s probably a conversation for another day.

My wife makes fun of me for this all the time. She’ll catch me talking about something I want — a deal, a decision, whatever it is I’m dead set on — and I’ll be describing it like it already happened. “Manny, why do you talk like you’re already a big shot?” What she’s missing is that I’ve rehearsed the situation so many times in my head that, to me, it already has happened. I’m not doing it on purpose. It’s completely subconscious. And it’s probably why I’m rarely surprised when something hard actually gets pulled off — I already lived it once before I ever had to.

Visualization has become one of the most valuable tools I use with my clients. A lot of that starts with what I call speaking in future tense — not sure if that’s an actual literary thing. I’ll have clients speak as if they’re already the person they’re trying to become. Not because we’re pretending. Not because we’re lying to ourselves. Because we’re practicing becoming that person.

Then I’ll often have them tell me a story where they were the hero. It has to be a story from growing up where they faced adversity and came out on top. Nine times out of ten, they can’t. Not because the story doesn’t exist. Because they don’t see themselves that way. So I have them rewrite the story as an exercise: go back into that moment and tell me how you became the hero this time.

Other times I’ll have them create an entirely new story. Sometimes it’s completely fictional. Sometimes it’s realistic. I usually follow their lead. At first glance, these might seem like creative writing or thinking exercises. I don’t think they are. I think they’re forms of visualization. They’re practicing becoming their future self before reality asks them to become that person.

One thing I haven’t talked about yet is how I actually visualize. I don’t picture the trophy. I picture everything standing between me and the trophy. I imagine the obstacle. I imagine the fear. I imagine the self-doubt. I imagine the moment where quitting would be easier than continuing. Then I imagine exactly what I’ll tell myself to get through it. I imagine every step between where I am and where I want to be. I don’t skip over the hard parts. I create them.

I’ve done this so vividly that I’ve looked down at my Apple Watch afterward because I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest. I’ve gotten my heart rate well over 150 beats per minute simply by mentally rehearsing a situation. That’s how real it becomes.

Every visualization ends the same way. I’m the hero of the story. Not because life handed me the ending I wanted. Because I became the person who earned it.

When I think back to those wrestling practices, I don’t think my coach was simply teaching us confidence. I think he was teaching us to become the person the moment would require before the moment ever arrived.

As I sat there finishing breakfast this morning, I realized something I had never put into words before. For the last twenty-five years, I haven’t just been visualizing outcomes. I’ve been rehearsing identities. Every wrestling match. Every difficult conversation. Every business decision. Every major goal. I wasn’t simply imagining success. I was practicing becoming the person capable of creating it.

Maybe that’s what visualization really is. Not wishful thinking. Not daydreaming. Not escaping reality.

It’s identity rehearsal. It’s speaking in future tense and then taking action until your present decisions begin to resemble the person you’ve already become in your mind.

Maybe that’s why so much of what I’ve visualized has eventually become part of my reality. Not because I imagined the outcome. Because I spent years rehearsing the person I needed to become in order to create it.