As we sat down to dinner, Deb asked, “Who will say the prayer?”
It was a traditional Thanksgiving gathering, my first as part of this family, with all the usual activities. On Wednesday we shopped for food, played board games, and went to a movie.
Thursday there was the cooking, the dinner (with all the fixings), cleanup, more games, videos, discussion and laughter.
Friday we went shopping for Christmas presents (taking advantage of the sales at the local mall), ate leftovers, and saw Planet 51.
Saturday, the family began returning to their homes, with the first car leaving in the mid morning for the drive to California.
Today we drove the college student back up to Northern Arizona University. We ate lunch at the Student Union while the morning’s snow melted, then drove back to Phoenix.
Through it all I held the focus in the heart, simply being mindful of everyone and everything, and aligning all with the one life.
Happy Holidays!
Glen
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
The Millionaire
The white-haired retiree waived at the white-haired retiree next to him and declared, “this guy’s a millionaire!”
Susie’s soccer team had been winning two to nothing when they called the half-time break. When Susie settled down with her water and snack, I indicated (by asking Deb if it was OK) that I was going to
visit the farmer’s market.
The booths of the farmer’s market were just across the parking lot from the soccer fields, and this was the third time a game had coincided with the market. The market had been closing by the time the game ended the other times, so I figured half-time was a good time to check it out.
As I approached I saw it was a small, local market of about thirty to forty booths—canvas awnings supported by metal poles, sheltering folding tables that held boxes or displays of merchandise. Most of the merchandise was locally-grown “natural” and/or “organic” produce, offered by the gardener/farmers who grew it. But there were also displays of tie-dye clothing, hand-made jewelry, flower essences, and various other products.
I’d purchased some produce. Twice been asked what kind of Yoga I practiced (my “OM” pendant was visible), which led to some interesting conversations on meditation, had just sampled and purchased an “Inner Peace” flower essence, and was feeling fairly mellow when I was waylaid at another booth.
A white-haired retired gentleman stepped forward, waived at the fellow retiree next to him and declared, “this guy’s a millionaire!”
“So!” I replied, as I aligned upward from the heart through my head, and outward from my heart to the two retirees. “Studies have shown that once our basic needs are met—food, clothing, shelter, occupation, companionship—additional money and things don’t make us any happier.”
Frowning, he replied, “It sure comes in handy when we need something!”
Aligning him upward with divine intent, I replied, “but how much do you truly need, and how often is it only a want?”
The situation was rather awkward, and I needed to get back. So I Nodded in apology to the wealthy man, to whom I still hadn’t been introduced, and headed back to the soccer game.
Namaste,
Glen
Susie’s soccer team had been winning two to nothing when they called the half-time break. When Susie settled down with her water and snack, I indicated (by asking Deb if it was OK) that I was going to
visit the farmer’s market.The booths of the farmer’s market were just across the parking lot from the soccer fields, and this was the third time a game had coincided with the market. The market had been closing by the time the game ended the other times, so I figured half-time was a good time to check it out.
As I approached I saw it was a small, local market of about thirty to forty booths—canvas awnings supported by metal poles, sheltering folding tables that held boxes or displays of merchandise. Most of the merchandise was locally-grown “natural” and/or “organic” produce, offered by the gardener/farmers who grew it. But there were also displays of tie-dye clothing, hand-made jewelry, flower essences, and various other products.
I’d purchased some produce. Twice been asked what kind of Yoga I practiced (my “OM” pendant was visible), which led to some interesting conversations on meditation, had just sampled and purchased an “Inner Peace” flower essence, and was feeling fairly mellow when I was waylaid at another booth.
A white-haired retired gentleman stepped forward, waived at the fellow retiree next to him and declared, “this guy’s a millionaire!”
“So!” I replied, as I aligned upward from the heart through my head, and outward from my heart to the two retirees. “Studies have shown that once our basic needs are met—food, clothing, shelter, occupation, companionship—additional money and things don’t make us any happier.”
Frowning, he replied, “It sure comes in handy when we need something!”
Aligning him upward with divine intent, I replied, “but how much do you truly need, and how often is it only a want?”The situation was rather awkward, and I needed to get back. So I Nodded in apology to the wealthy man, to whom I still hadn’t been introduced, and headed back to the soccer game.
Namaste,
Glen
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