Wanting is usually noisy. Lists, vision boards, a future self who already has the thing. I have been trying a quieter version: notice the want, name it once, then return to the work in front of me.
Manifestation, as I use the word, is not a contract with the universe. It is a way of keeping the nervous system oriented toward a direction without gripping it. You water a plant. You do not stare at it until it grows.
Hold the picture lightly enough that your hands are free.
The practice is almost embarrassing in its smallness. A sentence in the morning. A walk without headphones. Closing the laptop when the thought “if only” arrives. The want stays. The clench loosens.