<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209</id><updated>2011-08-27T04:15:15.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Portals to the Heart of Life</title><subtitle type='html'>Tales of being the self in the heart, during one's daily life and affairs.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>54</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-8445900126943432846</id><published>2010-11-29T20:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T20:08:02.944-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Blog / Upcoming Classes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;All,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2011 promises to be full of potential for growth in self awareness and in service to humanity and the One Life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each of the following are designed to be of assistance along the way, and you are welcome to participate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new blog, Hot to Serve Humanity, will be of particular interest to those who subscribed to my previous blog, Portals to the Heart of Life. It includes much new material, as well as new and legacy examples of applying the Wisdom teachings in one's daily life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blessings,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upcoming Activities&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;How to Serve Humanity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This new blog shows how to discover your purpose within the planetary life and help serve humanity. It includes information about the subtle realms, transformative meditations, and real-world examples of their use. Posts appear three times per week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sundays focus on esoteric information,&lt;br /&gt;Tuesdays on transformative inner techniques, and&lt;br /&gt;Thursdays on real-world examples (usually from my own life).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subscription is FREE, and nothing is advertised or for sale on the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subscribers will also receive additional FREE flyers, articles, and booklets, as well as information about new books and upcoming classes and events. Subscribers will also automatically receive a free copy of the booklet: “The New World Civilization.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A Divine Farmer's Market of Spiritual Teaching - Varietal, Fresh, Live and Organic.”&lt;br /&gt;Michael&lt;br /&gt;Located at: http://howtoservehumanity.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming Soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Creative Thinking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“As we realize that this world of affairs in which we live is of our own making we realize the simple truth, that we can change it. Not one person alone, but many of us thinking, feeling, and acting together as God’s children can change it from one of pain, fear, and anxiety, to one of peace, love and har¬mony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The purpose of this series of instruction is to show how this can be done so as to restore God’s plan on earth. Its goal then, is this, the integration of sepa¬rately identified human beings into a group consciousness dedicated to the good, the true, and the beautiful for humanity.”&lt;br /&gt;Creative Thinking, by Lucille Cedercrans, pp. 97–98&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41 lessons, taught live online (audio/video, and text), 1 per week&lt;br /&gt;The Class will begin when enough students are registered&lt;br /&gt;To apply or for further information write to: GKnape@aol.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also coming in 2011:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Creating the New World Civilization &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A course on how to use the inner creative process to help humanity take its next step in evolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Class will begin when enough students are registered&lt;br /&gt;To apply or for further information write to: GKnape@aol.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also coming early in 2011:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;The Ashram of Synthesis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Our Purpose, Consciousness, and Work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Book published in early spring, class will begin shortly thereafter (when enough students are registered)&lt;br /&gt;To apply or for further information write to: GKnape@aol.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-8445900126943432846?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/8445900126943432846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2010/11/new-blog-upcoming-classes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/8445900126943432846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/8445900126943432846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2010/11/new-blog-upcoming-classes.html' title='New Blog / Upcoming Classes'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-4257331141673579784</id><published>2010-02-06T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T10:05:58.297-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Zipper</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I was working on the text of a lesson when I heard a child cry “Help!” Next thing I knew I was headed out our front door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live on a street of modest, well-cared-for homes with small yards. In Phoenix, yards are more often covered with gravel and decorated with cactus rather than grass, and as a result the local children use the street as their main playground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the ten homes on our block, four have young children, making it a very busy street. I’ve seen bicycle races, battles between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker, countless games of hide-and-seek, tag, and even a snowball fight (using snow trucked in from the local mountains, in the back of a childless neighbor’s pickup truck, for the purpose).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The street itself carries hints of all this, as broken bits of toys are left behind by the tides of play- -the propeller from a toy airplane, a piece of the handle of a light saber, the head of a tiny doll. Too small for adults to bother picking up, most will be washed away by the street sweeper, only to be replaced by subsequent tides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that afternoon it was the hour after the children returned from school, but before the adults returned from work. So when I heard a child cry “Help!” I rushed outside knowing that I might be the nearest adult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A boy was standing on the sidewalk in front of our house, bent over, arms stretched out and down, with his coat pulled over his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Billie?” I called as I hurried up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The zipper’s stuck in my hair,” Billie replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking a close look I saw that Billie was well and truly trapped. The zipper must have been stuck. He’d tried to remove the coat by pulling it over his head, only to have the zipper grab the hair on the top of his head halfway through the process. He couldn’t see, and couldn’t move without pulling on his hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved into my heart, and said, “Hang on, I’ll have you free in a minute.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I aligned from my heart with Billie’s emotional body, to help keep him calm, and then moved part of my awareness into my intellect so I could assess the situation. I contemplated the scissors in the Swiss Army Knife in my pocket, but decided to try that last as if I cut Billie’s hair I’d have to explain why to his mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding the alignment from my heart with Billie, and with my intellect, I reached out. “Let’s see if I can free it,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gripping his hair firmly, between the jacket and his head, I carefully worked the hair free, a few strands at a time. Once free, and jacket off, Billie thanked me and went on his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joyful Blessings!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-4257331141673579784?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/4257331141673579784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2010/02/zipper.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4257331141673579784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4257331141673579784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2010/02/zipper.html' title='The Zipper'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-5186297398310402764</id><published>2010-01-25T09:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T10:00:38.727-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living in Joy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The ether flowed into, through and from us as we walked, radiating magnetic light into the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was December 26th, at a local outdoor mall, and we’d been shopping the after-Christmas sales for back-to-school gifts and supplies. This particular mall was designed to look like an old-fashioned downtown—a town square with a fountain where children played in warmer weather, stores, restaurants, offices—only with large chain stores rather than locally-owned shops. All it needed was a city hall/court house and a church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People of all ages, shapes, styles, and places of origin hurried about, looking for the best bargains on the best stuff, giving just enough attention to the people around them to avoid collisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two middle-aged women in black—leather, fishnet stockings, and boots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sour-faced woman who I aligned with harmony and joy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two giggling teen girls, elfin slender on the cusp of womanhood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A wrinkled old woman seated on a bench, hunched around her cane—who smiled and said that no, she did not need assistance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ether flowed into, through and from us as we walked, radiating magnetic light into the evening. Holding the alignment from the heart up to the Christ, out to the humanity around us, and from them up to the Christ, I radiated the Light of Joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joyful Blessings!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-5186297398310402764?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/5186297398310402764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2010/01/living-in-joy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/5186297398310402764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/5186297398310402764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2010/01/living-in-joy.html' title='Living in Joy'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-7291978641552096465</id><published>2009-12-28T18:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T18:25:32.061-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday at the Library</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;They were still there when I emerged from the Library.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was only the Mesquite Branch of the Phoenix Library, but it had an excellent selection. My catch that Monday afternoon included a series of audio tapes by Eckhart Tolle, The Joy of Living by Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche, Beyond Mindfulness by Bhante Hehepola Gunarantana, and Wever’s Way to Grill by Jamie Purviance (the last being research for The Soul of Barbeque).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d been walking around holding an alignment with the fullness of the one life, and sounding that fullness as Joy in the heart, so I was nearly bouncing with happiness as I searched the Eastern Religions section for works on Tibetan Buddhism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A short, middle-aged housewife approached, stared over the shelves a moment, and removed a video—a recording of the Dalai Lama’s 1996 presentation in London. I mentioned that the tape had recently been published in English as “The World of Tibetan Buddhism,” by the Dalai Lama (I’d seen it in Barnes &amp;amp; Noble the day before). We had a brief conversation on what it meant to “Take refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sanga, (the traditional method of becoming a Buddhist) before she completed her selection and departed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple more brief encounters, I checked out my books, walked past the alarm sensors, and out the sliding glass doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The paid advocate at the table on my right was asking another reader if they were interested in signing one of the six petitions he was promoting. He seemed to be using the Medical Marijuana petition to catch people’s attention, before directing them to one of his less interesting liberal causes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gentleman at the table on my left was more reserved. Dressed in a businessman’s suit and tie (made possible by the mid-winter weather), he was a great deal more reserved. He asked readers if they were a Republican, and upon receiving a “Yes,” asked if they would sign the petition to place his name on the Republican ticket for the next council election.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passing between them, I felt myself standing in a polarity of American politics. I paused, focused in my heart, aligned with both polarities, and brought them into union. Holding that union, I spoke in turn with both, and then continued on my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deb would be home early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-7291978641552096465?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/7291978641552096465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/12/monday-at-library.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7291978641552096465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7291978641552096465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/12/monday-at-library.html' title='Monday at the Library'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-9136631816388306037</id><published>2009-12-23T14:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T14:22:22.559-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Giving</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I focused in the heart as I stepped outside into a clear, cold day, aligned upward and outward, and moved into my usual invocation of the opportunity to be of service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turning right at the sidewalk, I spotted a pair of shoes thrusting into the street from beneath a minivan two doors down. It looked as though a neighbor was working on it, but I did not recognize the vehicle. Approaching from the street side, where he could see me, I discovered my neighbor Kevin adding air to the spare tire under his aging in-law’s minivan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I helped him repack the van, he complained of his father-in-law John’s failing mind, his own cold, and we discussed the advantages of the TIG welder his father-in-law had just purchased but did not really need. His father-in-law came out and I was introduced as I completed my healing alignment for Kevin and then began one for John.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continued my walk, performing Maitreya Mantrams until I reached the local OK market. I purchased a paper, and in the parking lot was approached by a young Hispanic man who asked if I knew where the local Western Union office was. It felt like he was in trouble and needed to receive money from his family. I knew of a PayDay office a couple miles down the street, but did not know if they were also a Western Union Office (as some such places are), so I began an abundance alignment and sent him inside OK to talk with Danny, the clerk, who had lived in the area longer than I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continued to hold the alignment while I walked home, circling back along a different route—a block west on Greenway, a busy highway, before turning back into the housing development.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halfway down the first block a woman with a dog emerged from a home and turned away from me. A minute later I reached the home she’d emerged from, and found a collection of Christmas Wreaths displayed in the front yard, almost as though they were for sale. I had paused to admire them when a half-naked elderly man wearing a Santa-Claus cap scampered out of the front door, and over to the SUV in the driveway. He threw a door open, grabbed something, and scampered back inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grinning, I invoked and radiated Joy, and continued on my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Holidays!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-9136631816388306037?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/9136631816388306037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/12/giving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/9136631816388306037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/9136631816388306037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/12/giving.html' title='Giving'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-7499627458661131757</id><published>2009-11-29T18:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T18:04:41.275-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Giving Thanks</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;As we sat down to dinner, Deb asked, “Who will say the prayer?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday there was the cooking, the dinner (with all the fixings), cleanup, more games, videos, discussion and laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday we went shopping for Christmas presents (taking advantage of the sales at the local mall), ate leftovers, and saw Planet 51.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, the family began returning to their homes, with the first car leaving in the mid morning for the drive to California.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through it all I held the focus in the heart, simply being mindful of everyone and everything, and aligning all with the one life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Holidays!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-7499627458661131757?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/7499627458661131757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/11/giving-thanks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7499627458661131757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7499627458661131757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/11/giving-thanks.html' title='Giving Thanks'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-6625558570457793021</id><published>2009-11-22T19:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:46:13.007-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Millionaire</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The white-haired retiree waived at the white-haired retiree next to him and declared, “this guy’s a millionaire!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SwoE3Z6-SEI/AAAAAAAAADA/ey5BXychg5k/s1600/RoadRunnnerFM35.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407139652509255746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 129px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SwoE3Z6-SEI/AAAAAAAAADA/ey5BXychg5k/s320/RoadRunnnerFM35.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;visit the farmer’s market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SwoFDo46KiI/AAAAAAAAADI/rpMD2zOpY-w/s1600/RoadRunnnerFM30.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407139862685559330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 129px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SwoFDo46KiI/AAAAAAAAADI/rpMD2zOpY-w/s320/RoadRunnnerFM30.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A white-haired retired gentleman stepped forward, waived at the fellow retiree next to him and declared, “this guy’s a millionaire!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“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.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frowning, he replied, “It sure comes in handy when we need something!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SwoFUIeL9RI/AAAAAAAAADQ/DfZyNQrWHUA/s1600/RoadRunnnerFM43.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407140146041320722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 129px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SwoFUIeL9RI/AAAAAAAAADQ/DfZyNQrWHUA/s320/RoadRunnnerFM43.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aligning him upward with divine intent, I replied, “but how much do you truly need, and how often is it only a want?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-6625558570457793021?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/6625558570457793021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/11/millionaire.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/6625558570457793021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/6625558570457793021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/11/millionaire.html' title='The Millionaire'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SwoE3Z6-SEI/AAAAAAAAADA/ey5BXychg5k/s72-c/RoadRunnnerFM35.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-4437774566685529860</id><published>2009-08-29T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T10:24:28.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Balancing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The skaterboy leaped onto the &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/Splj544sUZI/AAAAAAAAAC4/AGJuukggk44/s1600-h/100_5554.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375437476417261970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/Splj544sUZI/AAAAAAAAAC4/AGJuukggk44/s200/100_5554.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;tightrope and balanced, outstretched arms waiving, as the vibrations stilled. Then he performed for us, stepping forward, turning in place, standing on one foot leg with arms outstretched. Finally, he tried to dismount, slipped, and created a classic America’s Funniest Videos moment. There were groans of sympathy, giggles, and laughs, and then a young woman stepped up to take her turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the day before orientation at Northern Arizona University, and hundreds of parents were dropping off thousands of kids to begin their life away from home. This included Debbie’s elder daughter, Amanda, and Debbie and I were there to see her settled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Debbie and I had gone for a walk around the campus, and stopped in a large grassy courtyard outside Amanda’s dorm to wait for Amanda to come down. The courtya&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SpljeahndiI/AAAAAAAAACw/-ack6kZljaU/s1600-h/100_5555.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375437004410943010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SpljeahndiI/AAAAAAAAACw/-ack6kZljaU/s200/100_5555.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;rd included two short basketball courts and a volleyball court. A couple pickup games were in progress, Frisbees flew about, and a two young women had stretched a tightrope between two sturdy trees – just above waist high. We marveled at the mix of kids casually playing together, so different from our experience, and watched the balancing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As one young person dismounted or fell off, another would step up. The technique of the young women suggested some kind of physical training in an activity that used slow, elegant movement. The technique of the young men suggested more informal experience in activities that used quick, rapid movements. The women displayed. The men showed off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All drew on purely physical skills, without aligning with or invoking the overshadowing energy of Harmony that produces balance in the form. They would need that energy in their lives, now was the right time in their life to learn about it, but there and then I was not in a position to do much about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Debbie sat &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/Spli4VmdItI/AAAAAAAAACo/ZD_yb88qwAk/s1600-h/100_5553.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375436350254031570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/Spli4VmdItI/AAAAAAAAACo/ZD_yb88qwAk/s200/100_5553.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;on a bench enjoying the show, I contemplated what I could and should do about the lack of alignment. I was a brief visitor, witnessing a condition that very few would recognize. There was no subjective call for me to step up to the tightrope myself (something I would be able to do only with an aligned group), but there was a call for me to perform the alignment for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I focused in the heart, and aligned upward through the top of the head with the energy of Harmony that produces balance. Then I aligned outward, from the heart, with the auras of the group around the tightrope. From the group, I aligned directly upward, to the energy of Harmony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held that alignment for some time, until the young women took down the rope and went on their way. Then Amanda called, and Debbie and I went up to see her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-4437774566685529860?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/4437774566685529860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/08/balancing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4437774566685529860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4437774566685529860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/08/balancing.html' title='Balancing'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/Splj544sUZI/AAAAAAAAAC4/AGJuukggk44/s72-c/100_5554.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-4324355232237021625</id><published>2009-08-08T16:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T16:09:06.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hijacked</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;My cell vibrated, and I leaned a bit to the right as I grabbed it from my pocket and flipped it open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Glen, this is Betty, are you OK?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was seated in an overstuffed chair in our air conditioned living room, with a cool bottle of water close at hand. Debbie would be home in two hours and 16 minutes, and in the meantime I was working on my various projects via my inner alignment and my notebook. “I’m fine.” I replied. “What’s up?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You’re not in Warwickshire, England, you haven’t been mugged, and it’s not you who is requesting assistance on Fastbook?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Um… No. I haven’t been to England since ’89.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Then someone has hijacked your account. They’re using IMs to beg for money in your name and I’m talking with them now. You need to log in, check my IMs and see for yourself, and then report it to Fastbook.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thanked Betty, logged on to Fastbook, and went looking for the instant mail feature. When I found it, I discovered that not only was Betty being asked for money “by me,” but that the same scam was being run on the account of one of my friends, Jerry, in her name. Then I was kicked out of Fastbook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sent an email to Jerry warning her of the hijacking. Then I took a deep breath, focused in the heart, and logged back in to Fastbook. Once there, I went to customer service, and looked for the proper site to notify them of the problem. I found a form for reporting that my account had been hijacked, but it required information that I did not have (such as the email address that had hijacked my account). I was kicked out again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Realizing that I was battling the intruder for control of the account, from the heart I aligned upward with Divine Will, and outward with this situation. Holding that alignment, I logged back in to Fastbook, went to the account editing feature, and changed my password.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went to the message feature, and sent all my Fastbook friends a note explaining what was happening and warning them to be on the alert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-4324355232237021625?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/4324355232237021625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/08/hijacked.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4324355232237021625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4324355232237021625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/08/hijacked.html' title='Hijacked'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-3924784022742846360</id><published>2009-08-04T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T17:56:06.677-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Purification</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The brownie reached into the muck at the bottom of the pan, and plucked out a tiny grain of gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most cities have a limited number of interesting, educational places to take young children. In the Phoenix area, one of those is the Arizona Museum of Natural History. Many of the displays are interactive, and perhaps the most interesting of those is the gold panning fountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’d begun at the science section, with its interactive Martian displays, and moved on through the dinosaur, local geology and Indian tribes, into the section on early settlers. The last included a sample mine that led outside to a gold panning fountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/Sni9iOwQiAI/AAAAAAAAACg/-nymGwy8F8s/s1600-h/panningforgold.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366247351785654274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/Sni9iOwQiAI/AAAAAAAAACg/-nymGwy8F8s/s200/panningforgold.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Designed in rough imitation of a mountain stream, the fountain flowed into elevated pools that were filled with warm water and lined with glittering sand. Children between the ages of seven and eleven toyed with shallow plastic bowls, while their parents either watched or impatiently snatched the bowl and tried to show them how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The three of us observed for a few moments, then stepped up to an empty pool with two unused panning bowls. Debbie gave one of the bowls to her daughter, Susie, and I accepted the other. “I almost remember how to do this,” I said, as Susie and I scooped sand into our bowls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began swirling water into the bowl, but soon realized that I’d filled it with to much sand. I dumped some of the sand, and dumped more until it felt right. Then I focused on swirling the water, just right, so that the lighter sand was carried away while the heavier remained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Susie plucked tiny glittering grains from the surface of the sand, and Debbie placed them in a little plastic baggie, I continued on. I focused in the heart, aligned with patience and purification, and radiated that outward to the children and the adults as I worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waters swirled around and around and around, and the mound of gray sand slowly grew smaller and smaller, until suddenly, the last sand swirled away, revealing a glittering streak of gold dust. More, by far, than any of the children had plucked from the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I repeated the process twice more, giving all the gold to Susie, who thanked me for helping her collect it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-3924784022742846360?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/3924784022742846360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/08/purification.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/3924784022742846360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/3924784022742846360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/08/purification.html' title='Purification'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/Sni9iOwQiAI/AAAAAAAAACg/-nymGwy8F8s/s72-c/panningforgold.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-7668119461529023618</id><published>2009-07-20T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T20:10:03.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Waterfall</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;His belly hung over his belt and peeked out from beneath his t-shirt. Sitting in the shade, I watched him descend the winding trail in growing concern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SmUxB6qypJI/AAAAAAAAACY/2SL0bX9CxZQ/s1600-h/Tonto+Land+Bridge+228.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360744840452809874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SmUxB6qypJI/AAAAAAAAACY/2SL0bX9CxZQ/s320/Tonto+Land+Bridge+228.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Debbie and I had left Phoenix the morning before, headed for the mountains to the north-east. We’d gotten a room in Peyson, on the edge of the Tanto National Forest, and spent the afternoon and evening exploring the region and the community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was at least twenty degrees cooler there, and during our visit never got above the low 90s. It even rained the first evening, catching us outside walking and drenching us with a cascade of huge drops. We took shelter, watched the lightning, and continued on when it had stopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we drove northwest, up to the top of the Mogollon Rim, looking for a hiking trail. We stumbled across Tonto Natural Bridge State Park, which we’d heard about in Peyson, and decided to try that. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SmUwl0E_QTI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HVHjvJbjRcQ/s1600-h/Tonto+Land+Bridge+235.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360744357647302962" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SmUwl0E_QTI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HVHjvJbjRcQ/s320/Tonto+Land+Bridge+235.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sign at the trail head warned that the trail was strenuous, undeveloped over most of its length, involved rock-hopping along the stream bed at the foot of the canyon, and should not be attempted by anyone with a medical condition. Although we are both in adequate physical shape, as noted in a previous blog (Leaping the Stream), I am not as experienced in rock hopping as I once was. Nevertheless, we decided to make the descent. We could always turn back if conditions were too difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scenery was wonderful, with two spectacular waterfalls – one from the mouths of travertine caves, and another from the top of a huge natural bridge over the stream. We managed the entire hike, with only one scrape, passing beneath the bridge and continuing up the canyon rim on the far side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SmUv6VxgsLI/AAAAAAAAACI/i3TOBu-HBLo/s1600-h/Tonto+Land+Bridge+252.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360743610778169522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SmUv6VxgsLI/AAAAAAAAACI/i3TOBu-HBLo/s320/Tonto+Land+Bridge+252.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While paused in the shade of a tree midway up the canyon, we were passed by an overweight, severely out-of-shape man following his two teenage sons toward the bottom. It was late morning, the temperature was climbing into the 90s, and he was already red-faced and winded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Observing the potential for a heart attack, I focused in my heart and aligned outward, from the heart, to the heart and cardio vascular system of the hiker. Then I aligned upward, from the hiker, with the overshadowing angel of healing, and invoked the Light of Healing – not just for his heart, but for his self, and his resulting mental, emotional, and physical condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once rested, we drank the last of our water and continued on our way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-7668119461529023618?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/7668119461529023618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/07/waterfall.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7668119461529023618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7668119461529023618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/07/waterfall.html' title='Waterfall'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SmUxB6qypJI/AAAAAAAAACY/2SL0bX9CxZQ/s72-c/Tonto+Land+Bridge+228.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-1004329238202083730</id><published>2009-07-12T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T21:00:18.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I turned right off of Greenway onto 39th, striding along at a good pace despite the unrelenting heat. Two young men exited the house on that corner, and one of them called out cheerfully. I stopped, on the sidewalk, in the driveway, to see what they wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the evening of a hot summer day in Phoenix—which means a very hot day indeed. I’d gone for a walk despite the heat, and was circling back when Marcus and Yay called out to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were very young (twenty), wore their caps at odd angles, and towered over me. Marcus had short hair and Yay had slender dreadlocks that hung toward his shoulders. They radiated a friendly cheerfulness and a simple desire for conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After introductions and a brief opening conversation, I asked them what they were up to besides hanging out. Both replied that they were trying to discover who they were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The words were said with simple sincerity, with feeling rather than intellect, as a search for awareness rather than a quest for knowledge. They spoke of God as being everywhere and in everything, of the various religions as simply holding no interest for them, and of their quest to find God as the basis for their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were two quite ordinary young men, indistinguishable in their dress, behavior or activities from others of their generation. They expressed no interest in finding any sort of “spiritual” path or discipline, and did not seem to categorize their daily lives those terms. And yet, there I was, called upon by them as I was passing by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recognizing that I was there to learn from them, as much as they were to learn from me, I focused in the heart. From the heart, I aligned upward, through the top of the head, with the consciousness of the one planetary life. Then I aligned outward, from the heart, to the consciousness of Marcus and Yay, and through them to that state of awareness they represented in their generation, and from that state of awareness, through the top of their generation’s collective heads, directly to the consciousness of the one life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Concluding the conversation, I departed into the heat of the evening and made my way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-1004329238202083730?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/1004329238202083730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/07/yay.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/1004329238202083730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/1004329238202083730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/07/yay.html' title='Yay!'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-3416792793203512334</id><published>2009-06-27T11:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T12:11:17.569-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Calving Season</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The faun kicked feebly. Its neck hung boneless, and it sucked air in broken gasps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The snow-capped peaks of the Rocky Mountain National Park surrounded us. Green pines flowed down their slopes, around the occasional brown blotches of bark-beetle kills, and stopped at the broad grassland at their foot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tourist SUVs slowed to stare, point, and photograph the elk grazing on our left, paying no attention to the forest that stopped on our right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was calving season, and the road stood between does and fauns emerging from the forest and an abundance of fresh spring grass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheryl’s window stopped whirring down, and she called, “Do you need assistance?” to the ranger standing over the faun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No thanks!” he replied, “I think this one’s done for.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His tone and stance conveyed sadness, compassion, and the emotional injury of repeated trauma. He had seen this many times before, and been helpless to be of assistance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I focused in the heart, and aligned upward from there, through the top of the head, with the soul of the ranger. Once that connection was made, I identified as the soul of the ranger, and moved into his (now my) heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I aligned upward, through the top of the head, with the overshadowing soul, and invoked its light and love downward, into the heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I radiated that light and love outward to the internal emotional injuries caused by being helpless to aid another being. I held that light and love until those injuries began to relax, releasing that portion of awareness identified with and held within them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that release, I again aligned outward from the ranger’s heart, with the soul in the dying faun. As the ranger, I surrounded the faun with the light and love of soul, and aligned it upward with the light and love of its species, and the green spring grasses awaiting it on the other side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I withdrew from the ranger, back into my own heart, and wiped the tears from my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;June has been a very busy month, full of working seminars, presentations, family tragedy, and illness. However, I am recovering now, and am preparing to teach a new course, “How to Save Earth, Wielding the Law of Relationship.” This course will be of particular interest to the readers of this blog, as it shows how to perform the inner, transformative work described herein. I will be sending each of you a flyer describing this new course in the next few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-3416792793203512334?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/3416792793203512334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/06/calving-season.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/3416792793203512334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/3416792793203512334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/06/calving-season.html' title='Calving Season'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-698915146348237040</id><published>2009-05-21T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T19:12:07.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fill the Boot!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I braked to a stop at the light, and turned my gaze from the fire truck to the fireman standing in the meridian. A red pump truck was parked at a gas station on the south-east corner of Beach and Imperial, while a ladder truck was parked on the north-west corner. One of the busiest intersections around, it was an excellent spot for panhandling but I’d seldom seen it used for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A handsome young fireman was standing in the middle of the street, dressed in a yellow, sleeveless jacket sporting reflector stripes, thrusting an empty boot at the drivers. Glancing around, I spotted two more working the commuters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first thought was that the government cutbacks had gotten so bad that the firemen had taken to the streets to beg for money to keep their stations going. Then I remembered a similar scene in Phoenix last month, and realized that they were probably collecting for charity. Muscular Dystrophy was a popular one, but I wasn’t close enough to see what was written on the rubber boots they were holding out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved into my heart and pondered this situation – men who made their living rescuing lives at the risk of their own, standing amid traffic on a hot day to collect money for charity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiling, I aligned upward with the Christ, outward through the firefighters to all firefighters everywhere, upward from them to St. Florian (their patron saint), and called on the Light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-698915146348237040?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/698915146348237040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/fill-boot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/698915146348237040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/698915146348237040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/fill-boot.html' title='Fill the Boot!'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-7108868217838232999</id><published>2009-05-14T20:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T20:30:38.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shut Up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I strode around the mini-SUV, into the street. The vehicle had been thrust partway into the drive at a forty-five degree angle, and left there – a testament, perhaps, to the driver’s road rage. The entire house had a dark, shadowed feel, as though veiled in astral-emotional smog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d known one of the kids who grew up there. David spent a lot of time at our home, but had never spoken of his family and had moved out as soon as he could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A parrot screeched, and a woman shouted, “Shut up!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I reached the next house, it screeched again, and again the woman shouted, “Shut up!” in annoyance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I reached the house after that, it screeched again, and the woman’s shaking voice screamed “Shut up!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grinned at the foolishness of repeatedly shouting “Shut up!” at a parrot, and wondered how she’d react when it began parroting her words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I frowned. It sounded like a large, valuable bird. I’d pictured an African Gray Parrot when I first heard it, which was certainly not something one would expect to find in that shadowed house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I focused in my heart and extended its radius outward, touching the aura of the house, and found old age, bitterness, and loneliness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I aligned upward, to the source of Divine Love, and invoked it downward, infusing the house, and its occupants, with the Light of Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I aligned upward again, to the source of Divine Purpose, and invoked it downward, infusing the occupants with the Light of Purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the Light in place as I walked on, guiding those who dwelled in shadows to their next step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-7108868217838232999?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/7108868217838232999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/shut-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7108868217838232999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7108868217838232999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/shut-up.html' title='Shut Up!'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-727700022673130500</id><published>2009-05-12T21:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T21:12:01.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ride</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I was turning the key in the ignition when I heard a tap on my passenger window. It was a young woman – dark hair and eyes, heavyset, with a tiny little cockapoo dog – making the “roll down your window” motion with her right hand. Puzzled, I did so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Can you give me a ride? I’m trying to get to my uncle’s place, and my car broke down.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved into my heart center, aligned outward, and felt her aura. It was fairly normal, free of malice or ill intent, and the only surface desire was for a ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Which direction?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She pointed behind me, and a bit to the right. I asked a couple more questions, and the situation became clearer. Her name was Amber. She’d been driving to her uncle’s house from her home, a couple blocks away, when her car broke down. Continuing on on foot, she found me, leaving a house in her neighborhood, and decided to ask for a ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chelsea, her dog, would not be coming along as he knew the way home from here. That bothered me, but she seemed quite certain. “OK,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She ordered Chelsea to go home, and the little dog trotted off down the sidewalk, back in the direction from which she and Amber had come. Slightly reassured, I turned the car around, and drove off, following Amber’s directions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What were you doing?” she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Publishing committee meeting. I’m part of a company that publishes spiritual textbooks, and this was our monthly meeting.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh? That’s cool. I left my medicine in my uncle’s car, and I have to pick it up.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Medicine?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I have a tumor in the left side of my brain.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll pray for you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn’t sensed anything like that, and I’d have expected someone with a tumor to be more specific. Nevertheless, I aligned upward, from the heart, through the top of my head, to the great deva of healing, and through that deva with the Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Invoking the Light of Healing, I aligned outward, to Amber’s brain, and infused it with healing light. I held that alignment the two miles to her uncle’s place, and then throughout the drive home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-727700022673130500?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/727700022673130500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/ride.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/727700022673130500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/727700022673130500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/ride.html' title='The Ride'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-4305843486680373977</id><published>2009-05-08T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T13:03:48.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Abundance 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I scooped up a spoonful of vegetables, and prepared my palate for the coming assault. The veggies were from an ordinary package of frozen peas, carrots and corn that had been dumped – still frozen – into a frying pan and cooked without seasoning. My life experience taught me to expect a mushy, tasteless mass, and my ego resented the imposition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d been out of town the previous Friday, when Rory had knocked on my parent’s door and offered to cook them a free meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a sales pitch, of course, and although my parents could not afford to purchase anything, a free meal was, after all, a free meal. So they invited Rory in, watched while he prepared a simple lunch, and then ate what he’d prepared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I returned on Monday, I was told that dinner that evening would be prepared by representatives of Salad Master, and that four of my parent’s oldest friends had been invited. I’d been looking forward to resuming my routine, including preparing my own meals, and interrupting it to sit through a sales pitch was most unwelcome. However, it would have been impolite to decline and I was prepared to endure it for my parent’s sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dressed appropriately for dinner with my seniors, I sat down and focused in the heart. From the heart, I aligned upward, through the head center (at the top of the head), with the Christ, and invoked the protective Light of Christ downward, into and infusing my instrument, my immediate environment, and everyone present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I aligned upward again, from the heart, through the head center, with the Divine Plan, and invoked the Light of the Plan downward, into and infusing my instrument, my immediate environment, and everyone present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding that invocative alignment, I prepared to participate in the meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first bite of veggies brought a surge of physical-etheric energy. It was delicious! I smiled in surprise, and took another bite. I continued eating through three helpings, until the entire serving was gone. The same was true of the salad, frozen chicken, lasagna, and cake – all prepared without seasoning, with whole foods, at low temperatures, using the Salad Master cookware.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents were so energized they decided to sell Salad Master themselves. I saw that it might a solution to their financial problems, and continued to hold the Light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-4305843486680373977?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/4305843486680373977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/abundance-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4305843486680373977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4305843486680373977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/abundance-2.html' title='Abundance 2'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-2224799089491324028</id><published>2009-05-04T16:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T16:14:35.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Way is Shut</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The slender young woman walked up to Ben and asked, “Do you know how to get in?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the last day of the conference, and Ben and I were missing the closing ritual. My morning meditations had been quite productive, but the door was sealed by the time I was done. I found Ben behind an abandoned concession table near the locked entrance. He waved me over, and when I was seated asked for my help in publishing his writings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I receive this kind of request often, and am always happy to oblige. I was deep into a comparison of instant printing and offset lithography when the young lady’s question rescued Ben.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She couldn’t have been older than her early 20’s, was nearly elfin thin, with long, light-brown hair and dark, alert eyes, and looked extremely out of place. I couldn’t recall when I’d seen anyone that young at the conference – not in this century.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Youth had been common in Ageless Wisdom communities once, and its absence had been a source of concern and topic of conversation at the last several conferences. Where were the young people? Why aren’t they attracted to the Ageless Wisdom? What can we do to get them to read our books and take our classes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The music of the closing ritual reached a crescendo, muffled by the thick walls and doors. Ben suggested that she wait by the door and ask for information when the rite ended. He offered her a chair, but she replied, “I’d rather sit on the floor.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben watched in concern as she turned and walked up to the doors – large, solid wood, clad in iron bands, and closed against intruders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sat at their foot, turned her left ear to the crack between them, and listened as the group within broke out into joyous song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved into my heart, and aligned upward through the top of my head to the Wisdom of this Age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I aligned outward to the young woman, through her to all of her generation who waited patiently for the doors to open, and from them upward, directly to the Wisdom prepared for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I held the alignment, and waited for her to be admitted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-2224799089491324028?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/2224799089491324028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/way-is-shut.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/2224799089491324028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/2224799089491324028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/way-is-shut.html' title='The Way is Shut'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-1423208545693247984</id><published>2009-05-02T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T06:22:52.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misunderstanding</title><content type='html'>Alice waived me over to the table she shared with Bea. I smiled back, accepting the invitation, and took the nearest chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day was cooling as evening approached, aided by a gentle breeze. The terrace, shaded by trees and watched by birds, was a perfect place to meet and talk over dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An olive fell from the tree overhead and tapped my right shoulder. I glanced around in bemusement, wondering if my attention was being called something, but saw only fellow conference attendees - chatting, eating, and laughing - at the other tables. All quite normal for the charged atmosphere of these events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alice and Bea, attending the conference for the first time, outlined their plans to create a spiritual center while I asked leading questions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dinner arrived, and Bea asked, "Why do Bailey people have a problem with Cedercrans?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a moment I considered ducking the question, but an olive thunked off the top of my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sighed, and moved into the heart center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I aligned upward, through the top of my head, to the greater school of which all esoteric schools are bu dim reflections.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recognizing the unity behind the Bailey and Cedercrans teachings, I aligned outward, from the heart, with the misunderstandings between them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I invoked the Light of Truth into the misunderstandings, and began to speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-1423208545693247984?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/1423208545693247984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/misunderstanding.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/1423208545693247984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/1423208545693247984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/misunderstanding.html' title='Misunderstanding'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-2961093321476282883</id><published>2009-05-01T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T09:35:28.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Outbreak</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;A four-year-old boy called out, "Grandma!" from the booth accross the way. I took another sip of tea and turned my attention back to the morning paper. A new influenza had emerged in Mexico, and the authorities were trying to decide on a rational response.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The paper explained how many people had died (officially) in the current outbreak, how many died in a normal flu season (more than had yet been sickened), where schools had been closed, the stockpiling of Tamiflu, what differentiated the this strain from others - all quite informative but nothing that addressed the reality of the situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I focused in the heart, recognized that it was not adequate for the task, and moved into the heart of humanity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Dishes clinked as they were bussed from a nearby table.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;From the heart of humanity, I aligned upward with the overshadowing Deva of Healing, and through that Deva to the Divine Plan amd the Christ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The voices of fellow conference attendees murmured around me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Holding that upward alignment, I aligned outward to humanity, and within humanity to the human astral body and immune system.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Someone called out to a friend as they arrived.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Holding the upward and outward alignment, I invoked the Light of Christ into the human astral-emotional body, and the Light of Healing into the immune system - calming and soothing their fears and preparing for what was coming.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I will likely repeat and hold this alignment many times in the following weeks, but we are ready.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;What will you do to assist in this time of need?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Namaste,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;From the Seven Ray Institute Conference&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-2961093321476282883?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/2961093321476282883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/outbreak.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/2961093321476282883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/2961093321476282883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/05/outbreak.html' title='The Outbreak'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-6510821367556763474</id><published>2009-04-24T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T08:00:24.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blowout</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The black smoke billowing up from the intersection signaled an accident. I slowed, and it began to clear. A large, grey pickup, approaching from my left, had jumped the curb on the near right corner and slammed into the cement-brick wall of a housing development. Large bits of rubber scattered through the intersection suggested the culprit was a massive tire blowout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I focused as the soul in my heart, aligned upward with Divine Intent, and then outward with the current situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wall appeared undamaged, but the hood of the truck had crumpled upwards. I could see the driver silhouetted within, pushing the buttons on a cell phone. The suburban housewife ahead of me stepped out of her SUV and glanced around, assessing the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I aligned outward with the driver, and all of those who had witnessed and been impacted by the accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A trucker had pulled over, hopped out of his truck, and was nearing the car. Several other drivers, in better position than I, were approaching as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the driver and the witnesses I aligned upward, directly to the overshadowing Divine Intent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The light ahead of us turned green. The suburban housewife decided that the situation was well in hand, got back into her SUV, and continued on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding the alignment, I followed, clearing the way for the vehicles behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Am off to a conference in Phoenix and will be offline for 12 days. More when I return. G.K.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-6510821367556763474?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/6510821367556763474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/04/blowout.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/6510821367556763474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/6510821367556763474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/04/blowout.html' title='Blowout'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-7238825744360083282</id><published>2009-04-18T10:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T10:21:23.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>30% Off</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I turned off the screen and stood up. I’d been sitting in front of my computer for hours, and it was time to get out of the house. I briefly considered taking a walk, but decided I needed to be around people. As I scooped my wallet out of the basket on my dresser, I noticed the Borders’ coupon next to it, and felt the desire for another book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is an old desire – the need for escape, for adventure, to be someone important – given shape and form when I learned to read (first through comic books, and later through fantasy and science fiction). Being one of the first, it would likely be one of the last to be transmuted. But I was making progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The local bookstore is only a mile away – at the same intersection as my bank, grocers, health club, and office supply store – making it quite convenient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I walked in, I headed directly to the books I was currently reading, the latest fantasy by Patricia Briggs, and a book on the 2008 presidential campaign. Both were hardcover, and cost more than I was willing to spend (even with the coupon). But it didn’t cost anything to sit in the bookstore’s coffee shop (Seattle’s Best) and read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, however, I had some more work to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the corner where I sat, I could see the comic book and magazine racks, a good portion of the book shelves, and I had a work by one of my favorite authors in my hand. I was immersed in the outer form of my desire, surrounded by people who shared it. It was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I focused in my heart, took a deep breath, and aligned upward, through the center at the top of the head with the source of Spiritual Fulfillment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I took another deep breath, and aligned outward, through the desire to have books, the need for escape, for adventure, to be someone important – in myself and in everyone who desired books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I breathed Spiritual Fulfillment downward, into my heart, and outward to the place of that desire. I breathed Fulfillment in and out, in and out, in and out, transforming that desire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the transformation was as complete as I could make it in that session, still holding the focus in the heart and the alignment with Fulfillment, I opened the book to my previous place and began to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-7238825744360083282?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/7238825744360083282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/04/30-off.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7238825744360083282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7238825744360083282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/04/30-off.html' title='30% Off'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-4353320294597827585</id><published>2009-04-17T09:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T09:44:18.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Abundance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Dad said goodbye, to another client on the verge of bankruptcy, and hung up his phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had been the usual sort of call – no, they did not need anyone, business was practically nonexistent and they were surviving on the stock in their warehouse. The bank had cut back or cancelled their line of credit, and they didn’t know how long their company could survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad is an executive recruiter for the specialty metals business. Most of his client companies supply the aerospace industry, which is supposed to be doing comparatively well, but not from his end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We share office space, and during the past months I’ve overheard many calls like that one. It had been a long time since dad made a placement, and my parent’s finances were getting desperate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seated at my desk, I sat up straight and moved into my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I aligned upward with the deva of the New Economy, and via that deva with the Divine Plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I aligned outward, with my parents and through my parents with all of their inner and outer patterns related to finance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding that alignment, I silently sounded the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I hereby demand, in Divine Law and Order, and with the assistance of Pan and of the Ashram of Synthesis …sufficient income for my mom and dad to meet their regular needs, including a place to live, food, clothing, healthcare, transportation, recreation, and work, with enough left over to give something to others, all to appear as soon as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I demand this in Divine Law and Order and in service to The Plan. Thank you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sounded a silent OM, and after a few moments returned my attention to my computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-4353320294597827585?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/4353320294597827585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/04/abundance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4353320294597827585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4353320294597827585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/04/abundance.html' title='Abundance'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-5277889971661229494</id><published>2009-04-16T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T11:25:28.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I speared another chunk of omelet with my fork as Brad said, “We should nuke ‘em all.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brad looks like he was a linebacker in high school – large, heavyset, and immovable. A former member of my parent’s Episcopal church, he’d left when the denomination elected its first openly-gay Bishop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’d shown up unexpectedly that morning, we’d invited him to share our breakfast, and he launched into a conversation with dad on the Somali pirates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved into my heart as my dad said, “Remember Christ’s compassion in forgiving the men who arrested him and in replacing Malchus’ ear after Peter cut it off.”*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brad frowned in incomprehension as he stared at dad. He did not get the point at all. The idea of compassion to those who would do you harm seemed beyond his understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I aligned outward from the Heart to Brad’s aura, and found it dark and murky – full of sticky old patterns of thought and feeling. It was little wonder that the light of compassion could not penetrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was, of course, another light that would be there. If I could find it, I’d have a place to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I aligned upward from the heart, with the Light of Christ, and holding that alignment, silently sounded the OM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tiny point of purplish brown glowed within his heart – blue veiled by murky reds – the Light of Christ within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I aligned that Light upward, directly to its source, and sounded another OM invoking the compassion of Christ, the World Teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding that note, I continued my breakfast as Dad and Brad talked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;*See: John 18:10-11&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-5277889971661229494?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/5277889971661229494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/04/good-friday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/5277889971661229494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/5277889971661229494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/04/good-friday.html' title='Good Friday'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-6364382250866341412</id><published>2009-04-04T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T16:49:30.335-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Americans Only</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I gazed uphill, past the grass and through the trees to the tumbled line of mossy granite boulders. I imagined a gazebo and a lotus pond in the flat area beyond the boulders. Isolated and quiet, it would be an excellent meditation spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 5 acres were beautiful, with a gorgeous view of the valley’s oaks and wildflowers. The double-wide mobile home was in superb condition. The previous owner had refurbished and redecorated before her sudden passing. Everything was new, and the add-on in back made it almost as big as a triple wide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only sounds breaking the silence were the songs of birds, the wind in the trees, and the roar of the rider-mower passing back and forth in front of the double-wide. The most beautiful plot I’d seen so far, I was sure my brother and his fiancé would love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mower finished his task, drove up the driveway, and stopped next to our truck. He was an older man, with gray hair in a military cut under a jungle-camouflage military cap. His face had sagged with the years, softening the hard lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Beautiful country!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What?” He asked, deafened by time or the mower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s beautiful country!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Too damn many Asians and other foreigners. They should all just go home and leave it to us real Americans.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lifted my left eyebrow in response (a facial expression learned long ago in mirror imitation of Mr. Spock) and moved into my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I aligned upward to the overshadowing soul of humanity, and outward to the soul of the mower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I recognized that everyone is soul, and all soul is one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And recognizing the soul of the mower, I continued the conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen Knape &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-6364382250866341412?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/6364382250866341412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/04/americans-only.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/6364382250866341412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/6364382250866341412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/04/americans-only.html' title='Americans Only'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-3767039504700239125</id><published>2009-03-29T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T14:56:27.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Walk 4 Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The light turned as we approached the intersection of Whittier and Painter, and I braked to a slow stop. I noticed a group of people holding placards on the corner across from us, and thought perhaps they were protesting something. The balloons struck an odd note though, and they marched across the street in front of us – smiling and happy – rather than standing on the corner and shouting. I glanced to my right up Painter, and saw clumps of marchers stretching up the sidewalk for blocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/Sc_uQHJ7bQI/AAAAAAAAACA/Ceh78OK8N3o/s1600-h/Walk+4+Life+1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318731645513854210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/Sc_uQHJ7bQI/AAAAAAAAACA/Ceh78OK8N3o/s320/Walk+4+Life+1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of nearest of those held a sign that said, “Walk 4 Life.” I realized what it was, and snapped into my heart before my lower emotions could react.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More marchers approached, carrying “Choose Life”, “Love Life”, and “Life, the Right Choice!” signs, and I aligned upward, through my head center, with the Divine Plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within the Divine Plan, I aligned with that portion that represented the Divine Plan for humanity – the growth and development of our soul or consciousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within that portion, I aligned with the coming evolution of reproduction from an unconscious, uncontrolled process, to a fully conscious creative act; one that only occurs when those involved decide to have a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, from the heart, I aligned outward with the resisting polarities within humanity. Both poles called themselves “pro” (or positive) and the other “anti” (or negative). Neither realized that they were but different expressions of humanity’s resistance to its next step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I held the alignment upward with the Divine Plan for humanity, and outward with the polarized resistance to the Plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And within the heart, I brought them into union, and experienced the at-one-ment of the One Life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen Knape&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-3767039504700239125?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/3767039504700239125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/03/walk-4-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/3767039504700239125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/3767039504700239125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/03/walk-4-life.html' title='Walk 4 Life'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/Sc_uQHJ7bQI/AAAAAAAAACA/Ceh78OK8N3o/s72-c/Walk+4+Life+1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-7989680469342891720</id><published>2009-03-20T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T15:26:49.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Divine Will, part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000000;"&gt;The Attack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I snapped out of the heart into the ajna center, and jerked on the leash, swinging Butch behind me. The charging pit-bull mix roared in fury, with jaws gaping ready to rend and tear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I threw my alignment upward, grabbed Divine Will, and tossed it at the ravening beast. …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d discovered Butch years before, when he was a puppy. He was being abandoned at a local Mobil station, and I nabbed him as he was headed toward the street (he never did pay any attention to cars). He looked just like my first stuffed animal, “dog”, so I kept him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were together for thirteen years, and in all that time he never so much as growled at anyone. We used to go for long walks almost every day, but on that day we’d only gotten two blocks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d never actually seen the pit-bull mix before. He was kept penned up in the back yard of a corner house, surrounded by a tall cement-brick wall. But you heard him whenever you walked by, roaring as he leaped and scrambled at the top of the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of us walked on the other side of the street, as we had that day. But this time, he made it over the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…“Back-off!” I shouted, as Divine Will streamed down and out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beast’s legs locked, and he skidded to a stop six feet in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stamped my foot again, and shouted “Back-off!” as Divine Will streamed down and out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog spun around and fled, back toward his home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I banked the inner fires, and slowly relaxed the alignment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several neighbors, drawn out of their homes by the noise, walked over and asked if I was ok. I indicated that Butch and I were fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They told me that the dog had already mauled two other dogs, and that I was lucky to get off uninjured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thanked them for their concern (although luck, of course, had nothing to do with it) and as Butch and I continued on our way I began a technique for the dog and its family. He never escaped from his yard again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen Knape&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-7989680469342891720?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/7989680469342891720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/03/divine-will-part-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7989680469342891720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7989680469342891720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/03/divine-will-part-2.html' title='Divine Will, part 2'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-1647864878648112226</id><published>2009-03-19T16:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T16:16:52.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Divine Will, part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Adjusting Karma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat up straight, closed my eyes, and began my morning meditation ritual with the usual alignment…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I moved upward into the ajna center (in front of the forehead, between the brows).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once in the ajna, I took a deep breath and relaxed my physical body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took another deep breath, and calmed my emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took another deep breath, and clarified my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking another deep breath, I integrated my persona instrument (body, emotions and mind) into a single unit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I moved back from the ajna, along a line of golden-white light, into the heart or cave center in the middle of the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the cave, I aligned upward (through the top of the head, with the Divine Plan overshadowing our planetary life) and outward (through the ajna, with my entire persona instrument) and sounded the following seed-thought by stating it out loud:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I stand willing to serve the Divine Plan. Make of me a whole consciousness and a whole instrument so that Light may pour through me to light the way of men. Whatsoever karma I may have engendered in the past which stands between myself and my presently potential service, precipitate in that order which will, under Divine Accommodation, open my eye to the way of the Disciple. Guide me that I might adjust whatsoever karma is precipitated according to the greatest good of the greatest number. Give me knowledge of the Law of Love. I stand willing to serve the Divine Plan.”*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I allowed the energy, force, and substance behind the words to reverberate through my persona for several minutes. Then, I turned my attention to the next part of my morning ritual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;One never knows, of course, how these adjustments will manifest. They may appear through any form or experience, pleasant or unpleasant. Mostly they are relatively small things, simple changes to one’s daily routine. But sometimes, something jumps out and tries to bite you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen Knape&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;*A “seed-thought” is a concept or idea, sometimes in word form, that is the focus of a meditation. This one appears in Lesson 26 of &lt;em&gt;The Nature of The Soul&lt;/em&gt;, by Lucille Cedercrans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-1647864878648112226?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/1647864878648112226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/03/divine-will-part-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/1647864878648112226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/1647864878648112226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/03/divine-will-part-1.html' title='Divine Will, part 1'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-3906458933519546206</id><published>2009-03-16T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T18:42:00.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dognapper</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I braked as a blond fur ball streaked in front of my car. Turning my head to follow it, I watched a tiny, fluffy lap dog race up the cross street. It was well groomed, had a glittery, pink collar, and looked lost and frightened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sighed, moved into my heart, and turned the car around. He was headed up Brookline, toward where that quiet residential street emptied into Imperial Avenue (a major highway, packed with speeding cars).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drove around the block as quickly as was safe when children might be around, pausing to let an incoming two-door sedan go by before turning back onto Brookline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rusty, bondo-speckled sedan stopped, and the driver hopped out and ran toward the dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was puzzled, for the car did not look like it belonged in our neighborhood, and it had come from the Highway – the wrong direction to be looking for that dog, unless… I reached out from the heart, and found a dognapper looking for a dog to kidnap and ransom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I aligned up and out simultaneously. Up through the head with the source of Divine Will, and out from the heart to the situation in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog saw the man, spun around, and tried to run away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I invoked Divine Will down and out into the situation, without qualifying or directing it toward any particular action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man bent as he ran, and the dog yelped as he scooped it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held the emergency alignment, and let the Light of Will flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a loud “clunk,” the man’s car slipped out of park into first gear, and began circling the intersection on its own. Startled, he dropped the dog and ran back toward his car. He grabbed the open door as it passed, and hung on desperately – legs flailing – while it circled. Once around, twice, into a third, and he stumbled, fell, and was dragged by his shoes until, finally, the car hit a stop sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uninjured, but for his lost dignity and scuffed shoes, the would-be dognapper left the neighborhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog was long gone by then, but as I continued on my way I did another alignment on his behalf – for finding one’s way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-3906458933519546206?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/3906458933519546206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/03/dognapper.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/3906458933519546206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/3906458933519546206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/03/dognapper.html' title='The Dognapper'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-6221549749586411149</id><published>2009-03-11T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T19:14:52.319-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fulfillment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I glanced up from my book to the large man on my right. He had a black notebook bag slung over his shoulder and was peering at the base of the wall, behind the coffeehouse furniture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“They don’t have any,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t believe that,” he replied. He was tanned enough that I thought of skin cancer, and had sunglasses perched on his shaved head on a pale day in late winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“They don’t want us to linger that long.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He walked over, smiling, obviously inclined to talk. I focused in my heart, and aligned up and out in curiosity. Billie was difficult to read – a relaxed astral body, well ordered mind, aspirational and accustomed to command. Yet his clothes looked like something my dad might wear on a casual weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked Billie what he did, and he explained that he was an appellate attorney. There was indeed a hint of the attorney mind in his aura, but it was a minor facet. Intrigued, I asked more questions, and during a long conversation learned that he’d inherited $300 million from his grandmother, had invested it well, was a neighbor of Oprah Winfrey, and that Barack Obama had been a classmate at Harvard Law School.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also learned – by what Billie said and did not say – that he was beginning to drift. He’d lost his sense of purpose, and had not yet realized it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I aligned upward, through the crown center, with the overshadowing supply of spiritual fulfillment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Invoking fulfillment downward, I aligned outward, from the heart, to his aura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held the link through the rest of the conversation, until it was well established. Then I withdrew from the alignment, and made my departure, leaving the link with spiritual fulfillment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he was ready to look beyond temporary satisfactions, that offer of fulfillment would be there, waiting for him to accept it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*The book I was reading was, “A Long Time Coming, The Inspiring, Combative 2008 Campaign and the Historic Election of Barack Obama,” by Evan Thomas. I found it quite interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-6221549749586411149?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/6221549749586411149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/03/fulfillment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/6221549749586411149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/6221549749586411149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/03/fulfillment.html' title='Fulfillment'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-498345788168760437</id><published>2009-03-04T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T11:31:18.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Preparing the Way</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I closed the book and set it on my desk, between the keyboard and the screen. After nearly a year of research and contemplation, the vision was complete. I could see it clearly now, from the final scene to the opening. It was time to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved into the heart, and took up the vision – the conflicts between the forces of light and darkness, between romance and duty, peace and war, love and hate – the great struggle for the Return of the World Teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart I aligned upward, through the head center, to and through the ageless wisdom, with the Divine Plan, and held that line of relationship with the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart I aligned outward, in frequency, with my brain – the physical instrument of creativity – and with its capacity to formulate words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding that alignment, from The Plan, through the vision, with the words, I began to write…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I held the candle over the pile of moldy bones, and gazed from the skull to the thighs. Those were about as long as mine, so he’d been tall. The healed cuts —on the left shin and across several ribs— suggested a fighting man. I held the candle close to what remained of the knees, found the stress points on the inside, and nodded to myself. He’d been a fellow knight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He still had nearly all his teeth, and those were not worn down, so he’d been young, perhaps scarce older than me. There was no obvious sign of what had killed him, and despite my pressing interest in the question, I was not going to poke through his remains to learn more. I’d find out for myself soon enough.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;(The quotation is an excerpt from &lt;em&gt;The Knight of the Temple&lt;/em&gt;, Vol. II. A work in progress.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-498345788168760437?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/498345788168760437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/03/preparing-way.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/498345788168760437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/498345788168760437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/03/preparing-way.html' title='Preparing the Way'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-8086448640791222545</id><published>2009-02-25T15:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T15:12:53.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Refills</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really shouldn’t have noticed him. We had just sat down for St. Valentine’s Day dinner at P.J. Chang’s – a Chinese restaurant with social aspirations. We’d managed to get a booth minutes before dozen’s of other couple’s swamped the place, and my attention belonged to my companion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’d just gotten settled, and I was trying to decide between Wonton Soup and Almond Chicken, when a hostess led in a thirty-something young man. She sat him at a table for four near the window, directly in front of me, and darted off. He looked a bit like a skinhead – baggy black pants, no trace of hair – but didn’t have the vibe. He felt more like a mid-level housing construction manager who was worried about being laid off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We placed our orders and continued a wide ranging conversation. He ordered a margarita and waited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were picking over the remnants, and he was on his second refill, when his companions arrived – his wife and two daughters. Hugs and kisses all around gave all the indications of a happy family. Then she took the three year old to the bathroom. He picked up and cuddled the two year old, and, still holding his daughter, took another sip from his drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pattern of alcohol abuse leaped into my awareness, and I moved into my heart. Firmly seated there, I reached out, felt his aura, and found it. It was early days yet, when the attempts at self-medication still brought the appearance of relief without disrupting one’s life. Obvious problems might be years, decades away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart I aligned upward, through the crown center, with the great Angel of Recovery. Calling on that Angel for assistance, I invoked Her light into the heart, and radiated it out to surround the aura of the entire family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I breathed the Light of Recovery – in and out, in and out, in and out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When that radiant field of healing light was clear and glowing, I drew a line of light from it directly to the Angel of Recovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She would be there, waiting, if and when they needed Her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen Knape&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Share Portals to the Heart with your friends and associates!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Portals to the Heart of Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="c1935524515885041278"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Blog on Being the Soul in the World&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Short, universal, and from the heart. As one of the members says…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes! Thanks to your blogging these 'real-life' snippets from the world of affairs, expansions are happening. …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please keep it up, and continue on with us through your blogging. I find the blog pieces providing giant portals of entry into being within the one life (consciously), as well as very graspable instruction in how to apply the Wisdom in a daily ceremony of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Namaste, DSK"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Portals to the Heart of Life can be found here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In service to humanity,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen Knape&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-8086448640791222545?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/8086448640791222545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/02/refills.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/8086448640791222545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/8086448640791222545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/02/refills.html' title='Refills'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-4599598478608035331</id><published>2009-02-17T19:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T19:33:52.673-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaping the Stream</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I was standing on a boulder, surrounded by an icy stream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had been quite a long time since I’d found myself in that position. My alignment with the energy of balance had helped me reach that point, stepping from one precarious perch to the next, but now I needed something more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahead were two smaller stones, close enough to step down to. But continuing beyond them would require a leap to a medium size rock, and I’d just realized that my body no longer had the muscle memory for such a leap. It had been so long since I’d done such a thing, that it did not know if it could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That one leap would be difficult enough, but that was not all. Reaching the next stone, diagonally to the left, would also require a leap, and the one beyond that, and the one beyond that. Four leaps, all to rocks too small to stop on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d have to do them in one movement, without pausing or missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I visualized the series of motions, took a deep breath, and focused in the ajna center (in front of the forehead and between the brows). There I integrated my persona (body, emotions, and mind) into a single unit by identifying each as part of the larger whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I drew a line of golden-white light upward, from the integrated persona, to the higher self or Soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the connection made, I called on the will of the Soul, and gave that will to my integrated persona, as the motivating impulse to move quickly and accurately through the motions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt my body respond, took another deep breath, held the pattern in my mind’s eye, and moved. I stepped down with my right foot, then left, leaped off my left onto my right, off my right to my left, leaped again, and again, and landed on the sandy bank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still holding the alignment, I turned and extended it to my less experienced companion – now standing on my former place – and began describing how to make the leap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Donations&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&amp;amp;hosted_button_id=2343134"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;PayPal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or send to:&lt;br /&gt;Preparation Press&lt;br /&gt;16222 Landmark Dr.&lt;br /&gt;Whittier, CA 90604 USA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-4599598478608035331?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/4599598478608035331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/02/leaping-stream.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4599598478608035331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4599598478608035331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/02/leaping-stream.html' title='Leaping the Stream'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-4663061369804484900</id><published>2009-02-11T17:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T17:12:13.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Magical Studies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I was walking past the “Magical Studies” section when a book caught my eye. Sky blue, with a title the color of drying blood, I paused to read the cover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young woman standing three feet away started, and jerked a glance at me. She was twenty-something, wearing a fuzzy white sweater and matching knit cap against the winter cold. I wasn’t really close enough to justify such a reaction. Yet, she was frightened by the smallish, gray-bearded older man standing nearby, staring at the shelves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she hurried away I realized that I recognized the frequency and character of her response. At some time in her short life she’d been sexually molested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The protective instincts of the male animal quickened, as well as my nurturing side. I took a breath, and moved into the still, quite place in the center of the heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The images, sounds and smells of the bookstore disappeared as I gathered that stillness around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the midst of that stillness, I called on the great Deva of Healing and directed some of its light to the young woman – bathing her aura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The healing energy was repelled, by murky-red tears in her aura around her abdomen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remaining in the stillness in the heart, I persisted, called on the Deva of Feminine Power, and bathed the murky-red tears with Her power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tears shifted, allowing the healing light to reach her aura, and I withdrew. The angels of healing and of feminine power had been accepted, and my work was done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving out of that stillness, and back into the world, I found myself gazing at the 20th Anniversary Edition of &lt;em&gt;Many Lives, Many Masters&lt;/em&gt;, by Brian L. Weiss, M.D., a breakthrough book on past life therapy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I twisted the Freemason’s ring on my finger as I looked over the other titles. Then I headed toward the cash register.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way, I passed the young woman gazing at &lt;em&gt;Twilight&lt;/em&gt;, and the other romance novels by Stephenie Meyer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-4663061369804484900?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/4663061369804484900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/02/magical-studies.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4663061369804484900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4663061369804484900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/02/magical-studies.html' title='Magical Studies'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-1413004784503053791</id><published>2009-02-05T15:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T20:51:40.944-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Salad of Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The turkey burgers were beginning to sizzle as I gathered the salad fixings –lettuce, cucumber, tomato, carrots, avocados, and nuts. When everything was at hand, I focused in the heart, and identified as the soul in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I directed a line of light upward, through the top of my head, to the one planetary life. Then I shredded the lettuce and placed it in the large salad bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held that alignment steady, and peeled the cucumber. My joy in the familiar task grew as the peelings plopped into the compost bin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the contact with the one life clear and firm, I drew its light downward into my heart as I sliced the cucumber.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the light in the heart, I radiated it outward to my hands, and through my hands and into the tomato as I cut it into red bits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the flow holding steady, I radiated the light into every portion of the salad as I prepared it – carrots, avocados, and nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The joy continued and built, and infused the meal – salad, burgers and rice – as I worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When all was ready, I called the family to dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Donations&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&amp;amp;hosted_button_id=2343134"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PayPal&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In addition to these blogs, your donations support ongoing efforts to make the Wisdom teachings available to a broad spectrum of humanity. These efforts include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creating the New World Economy: A heart-centered course (and workbook)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to Save Earth: A multi-media program (audio-visual and text) on how to use the Law of Relationship to transform the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creating the New World Civilization: A heart-centered course (and workbook)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Guardian Chronicles: A series of adventure novels on the struggle by the Forces of Light to prepare the way for the reappearance of the World Teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These and other projects are designed to help humanity take the next step in its growth and development. The crisis of opportunity is upon us now, every worker is needed, and your assistance, participation, and support are deeply appreciated.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-1413004784503053791?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/1413004784503053791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/02/yogurt-of-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/1413004784503053791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/1413004784503053791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/02/yogurt-of-life.html' title='Salad of Life'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-2162740524465183182</id><published>2009-01-30T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T10:31:47.102-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Balancing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;A hummingbird appeared before us, cocked its tiny head in curiosity, and disappeared. We continued on down the tree-shaded path toward the sound of running water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching the edge of the trees, we found ourselves on the bank of a stream where water leaped happily over rocks. On the other side of the stream loomed one of the water-streaked cliffs that cradled this desert paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A beautiful wood bridge stretched across the water, to a trail that twisted up the side of the cliff, and then along the cliff face into the distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SYNFq6-6hQI/AAAAAAAAABg/viQA1gYEBkg/s1600-h/Bridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297154190407795970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 278px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SYNFq6-6hQI/AAAAAAAAABg/viQA1gYEBkg/s320/Bridge.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;At the foot of the cliff was a sign: “Sudden drop offs! Children must be accompanied by an adult!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Have you done much hiking?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shifted my grip to her wrist, and said, “About fifteen years ago I visited a friend who lived in a national park. The first morning he took me for a walk up a hill, to check on a ritual site he’d built on top. There was no path, and the hill was covered with these loose, broken rocks that tended to slide. He watched me very carefully at first, to see if I knew how to walk on that.”&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There is a skill to walking in the wild lands that we don’t learn in the city. There are loose stones and pebbles, slippery gravel, sand, and mud, and it takes time and experience to learn to walk across all those without thought. But, beyond and behind that skill, there is inner balance.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SYNGg_sgV1I/AAAAAAAAABo/8tfJdKTmWiw/s1600-h/Trail+Steps.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297155119385696082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 246px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 301px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SYNGg_sgV1I/AAAAAAAAABo/8tfJdKTmWiw/s200/Trail+Steps.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The cliff-side path was moist with seepage, there were stones, pebbles, sand, and gravel, rocks to step on or over, and on our right, the steep drop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Just focus in your heart, call on the energy of harmony, and radiate that energy into and throughout your physical body. Hold that focus in the heart as you walk, and your body will automatically balance itself as you move.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I extended my field of balancing energy to enfold her, and felt her kindle her own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Donations&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&amp;amp;hosted_button_id=2343134"&gt;PayPal&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;In addition to these blogs, your donations support ongoing efforts to make the Wisdom teachings available to a broad spectrum of humanity. These efforts include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creating the New World Economy: A heart-centered course (and workbook)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to Save Earth: A multi-media program (audio-visual and text) on how to use the Law of Relationship to transform the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creating the New World Civilization: A heart-centered course (and workbook)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Guardian Chronicles: A series of adventure novels on the struggle by the Forces of Light to prepare the way for the reappearance of the World Teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These and other projects are designed to help humanity take the next step in its growth and development. The crisis of opportunity is upon us now, every worker is needed, and your assistance, participation, and support are deeply appreciated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-2162740524465183182?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/2162740524465183182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/balancing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/2162740524465183182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/2162740524465183182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/balancing.html' title='Balancing'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SYNFq6-6hQI/AAAAAAAAABg/viQA1gYEBkg/s72-c/Bridge.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-784966922867750238</id><published>2009-01-29T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T20:51:42.538-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sharing the Economy of the One Life</title><content type='html'>The clouds pursued me as I drove east, away from Los Angeles and into the desert. They passed overhead – fluffy white atop, and threatening gray beneath – when I refueled at a fading truck stop outside Barstow. The luxuriant rainy-season green had leached out of the hills by then, leaving the somber tones of earth and stone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I aligned from my heart with the angels of the land, and simply experienced the flow of its light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clouds continued on ahead as I left California and headed toward Phoenix. Tall cactus sprang up, and the desert became a maze of frightened plants thrusting thorns into the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I aligned from my heart with the life of the plants, and experienced the flow of life from the sun, land, and water, through the plants, to the animals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64 miles outside of Phoenix the clouds shifted on the wind and light streaked through from the setting sun. A rainbow quickened in front of me, directly over the road, descending toward but not quite reaching the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that great symbol of wealth before me, I aligned from my heart with the abundance of the one life, and sounded the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I share my purpose with Earth, and the one life gives purpose to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I share my soul with Earth, and the one life gives soul to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I share my thoughts with Earth, and the one life gives thought to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I share my emotions with Earth, and the one life gives feelings to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I share my energies with Earth, and the one life gives energy to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I share my life with Earth, and the one life gives life to me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continued onward as the sun set, toward the growing light of the city of transformation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Donations&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&amp;amp;hosted_button_id=2343134"&gt;PayPal&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;In addition to these blogs, your donations support ongoing efforts to make the Wisdom teachings available to a broad spectrum of humanity. Including:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creating the New World Economy: A heart-centered course (and workbook)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to Save Earth: A multi-media program (audio-visual and text) on how to use the Law of Relationship to transform the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creating the New World Civilization: A heart-centered course (and workbook)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Guardian Chronicles: A series of adventure novels on the struggle by the Forces of Light to prepare the way for the reappearance of the World Teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These and other projects are designed to help humanity take the next step in its growth and development. The crisis of opportunity is upon us now, every worker is needed, and your assistance, participation, and support are deeply appreciated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-784966922867750238?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/784966922867750238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/sharing-economy-of-one-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/784966922867750238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/784966922867750238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/sharing-economy-of-one-life.html' title='Sharing the Economy of the One Life'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-5444242488861981763</id><published>2009-01-21T21:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T21:38:31.127-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Initiation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The tears started when Dianne Feinstein stepped up to the podium. I continued on anyway, expanding the focus of the heart to include the entire administration, government, and nation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Pastor Rick Warren began his invocation, I aligned upward with the divine purpose of America. As Rick invoked the peaceful transfer of power I saw the corrupt old power, clinging to the previous administration, shatter and dissipate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held the focus in the heart of the nation, and the tears flowed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Aretha Franklin sang “My country tis of thee,” I saw the overshadowing purpose of America pouring downward, into its heart, bathing us all in sweet sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held the focus as the heart of the nation, and the crowd cheered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As “Simple Gifts” played, I radiated that national purpose outward from the heart to illuminate the entire nation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held that light while noon came and passed, and the crowd grew silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;President Obama stepped into the silence behind the podium. As he raised his hand and began the oat, I drew the protective light inward to surround the government.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they stumbled over the words, I drew the protective light inward to surround the new administration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they completed the oath, I drew the light inward again, to surround the President in a protective sheath of divine Purpose and Power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I held that protective light, through the lunch, through the parade, until the President and his family entered the White House.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, my tears long dried, leaving that sheath in place, I relaxed my focus and returned my awareness to my living room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Donations&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&amp;amp;hosted_button_id=2343134"&gt;PayPal&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Help make the teachings available to everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-5444242488861981763?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/5444242488861981763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/initiation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/5444242488861981763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/5444242488861981763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/initiation.html' title='Initiation'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-3297694249246814668</id><published>2009-01-18T13:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T13:16:12.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspiring Will</title><content type='html'>A bell sounded an urgent warning in the distance. It was time for the adolescents at Mulberry Middle School to get to their next classes. I turned my attention to motivating purpose as I walked toward the end of our cul-de-sac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reached the corner, focused in the heart center, and turned right. The sense of purpose grew as I walked, and clarified around current events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a perfect, sunny, Southern California day. Back east, the next President was on a train, journeying to Washington for the inauguration. Here, I walked through a string of cul-de-sacs, holding the focus in the heart – breathing light in and out, in and out, in and out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned right again, at a home whose grass was kept trimmed as short as a Marine’s haircut. Then I reached upward, through the top of the head, to touch the Divine Will that overshadowed current events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maintaining that touch, I inhaled that Will, and expanded my heart to include the new administration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I breathed that inspiring Will in and out, in and out, in and out of the heart of the new administration I continued on – past the white picket fence where my workout buddy Darcy lives. I rounded the end of the street, and returned on the other side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching the next corner, I turned right again, and expanded the heart to include the entire government.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I breathed that inspiring Will in and out, in and out, in and out of the entire government I continued on – past the next corner to another cul-de-sac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second house on the right (where John grew up sporting a rebel’s colored Mohawk, black leather and spikes) had a new water feature – a small bowl, emptying into a large bowl, emptying into a six-pointed basin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continued on, infusing the national government with that inspiring Will as I rounded the end of the street and walked down the other side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the cul-de-sac, I faced a choice – turn left to home, or continue for a longer walk around several blocks. Checking the upward alignment, I expanded the heart to include the entire nation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I breathed that inspiring Will in and out, in and out, in and out of the entire nation I continued on to the longer route. The material world grew distant, my eyes closed for long periods, and my steps slowed. I felt the entire nation infusing itself with Divine Will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathing in and out, in and out, in and out I continued on, and in the distance a train sounded it horn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;D&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;onations&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&amp;amp;hosted_button_id=2343134"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;PayPal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Help make the teachings available to everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-3297694249246814668?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/3297694249246814668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/inspiring-will.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/3297694249246814668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/3297694249246814668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/inspiring-will.html' title='Inspiring Will'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-8194477696106416435</id><published>2009-01-14T09:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T09:50:11.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Under the Bodhi Tree</title><content type='html'>The Buddha’s head was on the ground again, and the coins were scattered about. I focused in my heart, grounded myself in love, and bent over to check the damage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The left shoulder was still glued in place. I picked up the head, rubbed off the dust, and caressed what remained of its nose. I breathed in, drawing the malice of those who’d done this into the love in my heart, and breathed out, returning loving understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I placed the head back on the statue’s neck, gathered the coins – pennies, with a few dimes – and placed them back on the altar stone. I breathed in, drawing the violence of those who’d done this into the joy in my heart, and breathed out, returning peace and harmony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone had stretched a beaded, blue elastic band over the statue. It didn’t really match, but it helped hold the pieces together. I breathed in, drawing the pain of those who tended this shrine into the wisdom in my heart, and breathed out, returning balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I paused to assess the results of my efforts, and one of the Arboretum’s maintenance carts whirred by. I stood, bowed to the shrine in the Hindu fashion, and continued on my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Donations&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&amp;amp;hosted_button_id=2343134"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;PayPal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Preparation Press publishes spiritual teachings for this age: inspirational, practical, simple to understand and use, open minded, and enjoyable to read.  Your donations will help make the teachings available to everyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-8194477696106416435?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/8194477696106416435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/under-bodhi-tree.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/8194477696106416435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/8194477696106416435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/under-bodhi-tree.html' title='Under the Bodhi Tree'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-41175726229992627</id><published>2009-01-10T20:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T20:59:21.819-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Guild</title><content type='html'>I was flipping turkey burgers when someone tapped on the front door. Mom put down the pie knife, turned away from the cornbread, and gazed out the dining room window. “Becky! Come in!” she called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Becky was a tiny woman who had shrunk inside her skin, leaving the gray memory of a 1950’s hairdo perched atop a wrinkled smile. Mom and Becky hugged, and I flipped burgers onto a serving dish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other members of the Guild arrived in quick succession – women of all ages and levels of education with a common interest in spinning, dying, weaving fabrics, and comfort foods. Each brought an offering of food to add to the common abundance. There were fruit plates, donuts, ham and beans, bagels and cream, macaroni and cheese, intricately carved vegetables, and chocolate, peach, and blackberry pies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When everyone had arrived and the offerings were assembled, they moved into the living room to begin their monthly meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked over to the warm corn bread, picked up the pie knife, and moved into my heart. Smiling, I aligned with the angel of corn – that great being who is the substance of maize – and asked that it pour its light, its blessing, into the cornbread. I breathed that light into my heart, and out to the bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In and out, in and out, in and out – permeating the bread with light, and holding it there for our family and guests who would soon eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my heart, I gave thanks to the angel, and then I cut the cornbread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Donations&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&amp;amp;hosted_button_id=2343134"&gt;PayPal&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * *&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-41175726229992627?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/41175726229992627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/guild.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/41175726229992627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/41175726229992627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/guild.html' title='The Guild'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-4175919173021321230</id><published>2009-01-04T20:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T20:58:01.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting it Flow</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;* * *&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Letting it Flow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I focusing in my heart, and headed toward the cashier. I was almost there, preparing for the next step in the alignment, when I saw the table covered in black books. I paused, and joined a large woman in a pant suit in gazing over the display. I picked up a copy of New Moon and asked, “Is this one next after Twilight?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t know,” she replied. “My niece just saw the movie, so I’m getting her the book.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued chatting, about her niece, the plot and setting of Twilight, the other books she was purchasing, and her preference for contemporary mysteries with strong female characters. I listened attentively, asked questions that evoked explanations, and offered brief supportive comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We moved to the long post-holiday payment line, and while we talked I aligned with the world economy. I breathed in and out, in and out, reaffirming that living connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new friend reached the head of the line, and said goodbye when her turn came. I aligned outward, from my heart, with my entire personal economy – my thoughts, emotions, energy, and forms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I aligned my personal economy outward, with the greater planetary economy of which it is a part. I breathed in and out, in and out, reaffirming the living flow from the world economy, through me, to the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A clerk called out “next,” and I pulled my wallet from my pocket as I stepped up to the counter. I removed the “30% Off” coupon, and some cash, and saw her eyes widen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What’s that?” she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I followed her gaze to my wallet, and saw what was poking out of it. “Oh, that’s a million $ bill I got at a conference. I figure it’s OK as long as I don’t try to buy anything with it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smiled, placed my receipt in the bag with my books, and I departed, still holding the flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * *&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-4175919173021321230?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/4175919173021321230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/letting-it-flow.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4175919173021321230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4175919173021321230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2009/01/letting-it-flow.html' title='Letting it Flow'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-4524276628634226777</id><published>2008-12-28T17:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T17:03:41.118-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;* * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Self Awareness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tensed as the glass doors slid aside with a whoosh and hint of a rattle. I stepped inside, hunching a bit in fear that my coat would set the alarm off again. It was a chilly Christmas eve, eve, and my winter coat – a gift from a niece the year before – had a tendency to set off the theft alarm at the local grocery. No place else, just there, where I was most likely to run into someone I knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relieved by the lack of an alarm, I stepped to the left to grab a hand basket. I was there to pick up a few remaining items for the family Christmas Dinner, as apparently were a lot of other people who were rushing in and out displaying the determined, harried look of last-minute holiday shoppers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About fifteen feet inside the entrance, the management had set up a table display of gift cards of all types. A pink-cheeked young grocery clerk was seated behind the display, grimly holding a fixed smile on his face as shoppers stepped around him without making eye contact. He’d obviously been there for hours, intentionally overlooked the entire time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I focused in my heart, aligned with his, and stepped up to the table with a grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I breathed in light, and love, and bathed him in it as I asked him questions about his current situation - how long he’d been sitting there, how long was left, and what it felt like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I breathed in light and love, and aligned him up with his higher self or soul as I moved my questions to his hopes and dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It only took a couple minutes, but he was smiling when I was done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No,” I said, “it’s just that, if I had your job, I’d want to be recognized as a person once in a while.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiled in gratitude, and I waved as I strode into the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * *&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-4524276628634226777?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/4524276628634226777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/12/self-awareness-i-tensed-as-glass-doors.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4524276628634226777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4524276628634226777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/12/self-awareness-i-tensed-as-glass-doors.html' title=''/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-7292945559256265447</id><published>2008-12-21T15:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T15:39:37.855-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;* * *&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;The Purple Bandana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had been laundered, carefully folded, and left next to the family phone – a simple bandana. Extra large, purple with light-blue flowers and utterly harmless in appearance, it was a sign of impending death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years ago, I’d had dozens like it, worn as a stylistic echo of the hippie era. But I’d slowly been giving them away for most of this century – a few to a sister in law with leukemia, some to friends. Most recently, the purple bandana had gone to May, a close friend of my mom’s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May was dropped off at our home early in the morning once a week. I’d return from the gym, and there she’d be, sitting or lying on the couch, with the cat keeping her company, head covered with a scarf or bandana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d prepare breakfast and offer some to May, but she’d usually decline. We’d talk with her or let her rest, whatever she needed. Sometime in the mid morning mom dropped May off at the hospital for her appointment, and either stayed with her or retuned and picked her up later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually it became clear that the chemo wasn’t working, that nothing was going to work, so they stopped. May’s hair began to grow back, and she looked better, if you didn’t watch the way she moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May appeared two or three times more. The pain grew and they increased her oral medication, but eventually that was not enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time May visited was just before she went to the hospice. She’d had the bandana laundered, folded it, and left it by the family phone for me to find. She didn’t need such things any more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up the purple bandana, focused in my heart, and aligned upward with the Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the heart, I aligned outward with May, and upward from May to the Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I invoked Christ’s Light and Love for May, and allowed that Light and Love to flow into her aura, and back up from her as a beacon lighting the way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made sure the Light shone for her physical instrument, as well as her soul, so that it too would feel the call when it came, and release the soul to its journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-7292945559256265447?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/7292945559256265447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/12/purple-bandana-it-had-been-laundered.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7292945559256265447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/7292945559256265447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/12/purple-bandana-it-had-been-laundered.html' title=''/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-9158235258264788483</id><published>2008-12-13T10:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T11:01:43.924-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;* * * * * * *&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Feathers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our welcome mat was covered in downy feathers – the little gray ones left behind when a cat catches a sparrow. My eyes sought and found the proof of this, also waiting on the mat – the tiny body, still in death. Our ginger tom, Sunny, proudly presented himself for my approval. I stroked him as he expected, opened the door, and let him in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Sunny trotted off to his bowl, I found a slightly-used paper towel and returned to the welcome mat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The body was in much better condition than the profusion of feathers suggested, but I did not examine it closely. I merely picked it up with the towel, reached for its spark of soul, and found that its light had indeed returned to its species.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I gently wrapped the body in the towel I contemplated the fate of such sparks of consciousness. The species was far from achieving individualization in its members, and thus the spark of self formerly residing in that body would have merged back into the great pool from which it came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sparrows have species consciousness. They can recognize members of their species, and gender within their species, but they lack the self awareness of true individuality. It was sad in a way, yet valiant, when one contemplated all the steps that lay before them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was trash day, and as I walked toward the street I recalled the purpose of the animal kingdom in the planetary life – they are the third kingdom, the representatives of Divine Intelligence, the planetary intellect in becoming. Eventually, as humanity and the entire planetary life evolved, they would become the instrument of conscious creativity within the planetary life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that is far, far away, as we measure such things, and there and then the most I could do was honor the tiny fledgling soul,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;align with it and through it with its species,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;align its species with the purpose of its kingdom,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;align the animal kingdom with humanity,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and recognize the service humanity can perform by helping animals to create their individual identities and realize their function within the one life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;* * * * * * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-9158235258264788483?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/9158235258264788483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/12/feathers-our-welcome-mat-was-covered-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/9158235258264788483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/9158235258264788483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/12/feathers-our-welcome-mat-was-covered-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-5106038935463962356</id><published>2008-12-07T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T14:09:23.033-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Healing Light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashes. The parking lot was much closer to last month's fires than my home was, and the first thing I noticed as I stepped out of my car was the lingering smell of old ashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refocused, took another deep breath, moved into my heart, and walked toward the main entrance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way I neared a red fire engine parked at the emergency entrance. Two members of its crew were re-stowing equipment in the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved my focus to the center of the head, and from there aligned upward, through the crown center above the head, to the World Teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the doors of the main entrance slid aside, I invoked the Healing Light of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It flowed downward, along the path prepared, and I stepped over the threshold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving forward as my heart filled with Healing Light, I stopped at the reception desk, gave a patient’s name, and received a “Visitor” sticker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I passed through the inner entryway, I released the Light from the heart – radiating Healing outward, through the walls, to permeate the entire building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down and out, down and out, the Light flowed as I strode down the main corridor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Past the chapel where I’d worked the year before, past signs pointing the way to radiology, oncology, maternity, and a dozen other departments, to the far end of the corridor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end, I turned right and found the room I was looking for. There were the usual features and furnishings - a small private bathroom, two beds, privacy curtains, and assorted medical devices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I returned, somewhat, from my inner work, and walked up to the second bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hi mom!” I said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-5106038935463962356?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/5106038935463962356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/12/healing-light-ashes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/5106038935463962356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/5106038935463962356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/12/healing-light-ashes.html' title=''/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-3364181146201517275</id><published>2008-11-29T16:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T16:31:53.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Protection from Criticism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stretch and wiggle feet (so calves don’t cramp), awake, focus in the center of the head, align up through the crown with my place, function, and purpose, and sound the central, motivating thought… “I am the Soul within the Heart of the Wisdom Group.” Hold that thought as the body awakens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked my instrument – mental, astral, and physical – all aligned and responsive. Note the condition of my bladder and previewed my day. The usual morning preparations, with jogging in place (but no club workout on weekends), meditations, continue organizing contacts via “Act,” work on the Parent Training Manual, continue work on new classes, and write a blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another blog? Already? Hmm… Yes… There was something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rolled over, checked the time (4:25 A.M.) and turned on the radio. NPR was talking about Obama, and the potential disappointment of his followers in the lack of diversity in his cabinet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aha! I lay back and focused in the heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathe in, drawing light down from above the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathe out, pushing light up through the top of the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathe in and out, in and out, into and through the heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Align with and identify as the new American administration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the new administration, align upward from the heart, through the top of the head, with the Light of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the new administration, invoke that protective Light into the heart, as protection from criticism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sound that protective Light outward, from the heart, through the administration’s aura, into its entire life and affairs, by silently sounding the OM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathe in and out, in and out, into and through the heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Align with and identify as the Obamaites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the Obamaites, align upward from the heart, with the idea of the New World Civilization…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with the new Cooperative Leadership of that Civilization… (Breathe in and out, in and out.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with the new Economy of that Civilization… (Breathe in and out, in and out.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with the new Organization of that Civilization… (Breathe in and out, in and out.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recognizing the new Leadership, Economy, and Organization, audibly sound the OM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly relax the attention, and return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With an NPR story about a children’s writer as my sound track, I sat up, and began my day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-3364181146201517275?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/3364181146201517275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/11/protection-from-criticism-stretch-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/3364181146201517275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/3364181146201517275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/11/protection-from-criticism-stretch-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-8466761785011408201</id><published>2008-11-27T20:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T20:26:45.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Cleansing Rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clouds had shed enough moisture to wash away the lingering ashes and leave our trees dripping. The air smelled clean again – or as clean as it ever does in this century. The birds were chirping, and the neighbors were sending their children outdoors while they prepared the biggest meal of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving (a modern harvest festival, when we come together to give thanks for peace and plenty). But, I’d just heard about a terrorist attack in Mumbai, India. Over 120 dead, 300 injured, not in a sudden explosion, but by the shots of armed men. Men twisted and distorted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing of this, I’d set aside the sweet potatoes I was peeling, stepped outside, and sat in the clean air beneath the weeping trees. There I moved into my heart…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathe in, drawing light down from above the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathe out, pushing light up through the top of the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathe in and out, in and out…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Become aware of the music of the heart, beating in time with the one life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Become aware of that same music, sounding in the heart of all men – of everyone everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Become aware of the twisted distortions within humanity, and sound the music of the heart within them – soothing and calming humanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As humanity in the heart, breathe in, drawing light down from above the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In and out, in and out, becoming at-one with the music of the heart of humanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, having achieved inner harmony, I released a final breathe, returned to my normal awareness, and walked back inside to finish peeling the sweet potatoes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-8466761785011408201?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/8466761785011408201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/11/cleansing-rain-clouds-had-shed-enough.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/8466761785011408201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/8466761785011408201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/11/cleansing-rain-clouds-had-shed-enough.html' title=''/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-5684293844527507389</id><published>2008-11-23T16:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T16:27:53.914-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;At-one With the New World Civilization&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another gust whistled through our grapefruit tree. With a snap, a yellow-green fruit fell and thudded to the ground. The wind paused, and the specs of ash – spent gray-white embers – became visible again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over a hundred homes had burned since yesterday, west and east of us, and more were burning now. Their burning cast the day in apocalyptic-orange, the color of destruction, of endings, of preludes to forced beginnings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seemed appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite things to do is to sit beneath the trees in our front yard (sheltered from casual sight by a screen of bushes and flowers) and read, listen to children play, and meditate. But today the wind and smoke made reading difficult, and the children were indoors – sheltered behind air filtration systems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That left meditation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a shallow breath, and focused in the heart center…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When everything is quiet and still, align upward from the heart, through the crown center, with the idea of the New World Civilization. (pause)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recognize that coming civilization as the vehicle through which humanity will achieve the next step in the evolution of its consciousness, and at one with the idea. (pause)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remaining at-one with the idea, return your awareness to the heart center. (pause)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the idea of the New World Civilization, in the heart center, at-one with humanity. (pause)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stand in the heart center, as humanity at-one with the New World Civilization, and surrounded by the fires of change. (very long pause)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Audibly sound the OM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly relax the attention and return to your normal focus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-5684293844527507389?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/5684293844527507389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/11/at-one-with-new-world-civilization.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/5684293844527507389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/5684293844527507389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/11/at-one-with-new-world-civilization.html' title=''/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-8696575616630842046</id><published>2008-11-13T10:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T10:25:35.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Sounding the Voice of Christ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elliptical machine accepted my weight, age, and workout instructions. I grabbed the handles, began walking, and moved into my heart center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The machine I was using was part of a row of twenty cardio exercise machines, and there were three rows. It was approaching 6:30 AM on a Monday morning, and I was completing my usual Monday, Wednesday, Friday routine (I have a second routine for Tuesdays and Fridays).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The handball courts behind me were empty, but the usual Monday morning basketball game was in full swing off to my right. Several machines to my left, a young bride and her friend were preparing to look their best at the wedding, and on the stationary bikes two rows in front of me Janet and Billie were continuing their romance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve sometimes wondered how often people joined the club in order to meet someone, and how often it was because they’ve met someone. At that moment, however, I was busy formulating my next alignment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Physical exercise in a health club usually has a regular move-pause-move-pause rhythm – the same move-pause-move-pause as the inner creative process. I take advantage of this by focusing within and using the Law of Relationship while working out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My intent when I do this is to serve the one life in whatever manner is needed. On this occasion, as I focused within I found my self responding to the need of America, as represented by the new American administration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I focused as the self in the heart center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the self in the heart, I aligned upward (via aspiration), through the crown center at the top of the head, with the overshadowing Christ or world soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the self in the heart, I aligned outward, through the ajna center (in front of the forehead and between the brows) with the new administration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding the upward and outward alignments, I invoked the protective Light of Christ, and imagined that clear blue light flowing downward and surrounding the new administration with its protective radiance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still holding the upward and outward alignments, I invoked the inspiring Voice of Christ, and imagined that silent sound flowing downward and infusing the new administration with its inspiring vibrations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still focused in the heart, and holding the alignment with the Light and Voice of Christ, I completed my workout and walked out into a clear blue dawn tinged with the glorious pink of sunrise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order to perform a technique such as this, without injecting one’s personal hopes and desires into (and thereby qualifying and depleting) it, one must be able to identify as the one life (rather than as an individual) while performing it. The same is true of any application of the Law of Relationship, including when helping create the new world economy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following technique helps us achieve the necessary at-one-ment with the one life. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;All is Part of the One Life Technique&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sit comfortably, close your eyes, and relax your physical body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Move your self awareness into your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From your position in the heart, audibly state the following (pausing between each):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;    all my thoughts are part of the energy of the one life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;    all my emotions are part of the force of the one life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;    all my forms are part of the substance of the one life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;    all my appearances are part of the affairs of the one life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Audibly sound the OM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a deep breath, and as you release it slowly relax the attention, and return to your normal focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An audio version of the “All is Part of the One Life” technique may be found &lt;a href="http://library.upline.com/GKnape@aol.com_be522f75-7b21-45d0-bae3-44c2b983d5dd.pub"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All audio files in this blog are in non-streamable wma format.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-8696575616630842046?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/8696575616630842046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/11/sounding-voice-of-christ-elliptical.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/8696575616630842046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/8696575616630842046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/11/sounding-voice-of-christ-elliptical.html' title=''/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-2975155874869067490</id><published>2008-11-07T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T11:06:28.994-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Walking in Christ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I went for a walk with Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, not the religious figure, and certainly not striding along next to me. It was, well… let me tell you about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d been working away in front of my home office computer for several hours, when I noticed that portions of my anatomy were crying out for relief. It was a fairly nice day, sunny but cool, so I went for a walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live in an average north-American neighborhood – tract homes indistinguishable to the casual eye from any built around the 1970s. However, the light and smell would say “Southern California” to anyone familiar to that part of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, I picked an inner alignment as I walked toward the end of our cul-de-sac, and then decided on a route. This process of picking an alignment and then a route has been part of my walking routine for many years. I’m not sure how it started, probably as an extension of my formal meditation work, but these days it’s simply something I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On this occasion I focused in the heart center. As I walked across the cross street at the end of our cul-de-sac I noticed that the heart center focus was quite energized and aligned up, from the heart, to the crown center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, feeling a magnetic call, I continued the alignment upward through the crown, with the overshadowing Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continued walking as the heart center linked with the Christ, and felt the radiant Light of Christ begin to flow into my instrument.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By that time I’d reached the sidewalk in from of Bob and Charlie’s place (they have the prettiest spring flower garden in several blocks). From the focus in the heart, my aura expanded outward, to include the households on both sides of the street, and I let the Light of Christ flow into and through me, to illuminate the neighborhood as I passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart swelled with love, light and joy as I walked, and my steps became strong and relaxed, with the easy spring of youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continued onward, radiating Light, Love, Joy, and Hope to several blocks, returning home happy and invigorated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an excellent example of what the New Economy is and how it works. It is Divine Light, Love and Power, flowing into and through us to illuminate and renew the world. How much material wealth we have, our job, education and where we live do not affect this process. We can all be sources of the abundance of the One Life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-2975155874869067490?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/2975155874869067490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/11/walking-in-christ-yesterday-i-went-for.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/2975155874869067490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/2975155874869067490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/11/walking-in-christ-yesterday-i-went-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-6024460820894849013</id><published>2008-10-29T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T13:43:18.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Releasing All&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Capturing a Greedy Monkey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While contemplating the next step in our process I recalled the story of the greedy monkey:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time a clever hunter built a trap for greedy monkeys. The trap was a cage with the bars spaced so that a monkey could thrust an empty hand into it, but too small for a monkey to withdraw his full hand. Then he put a banana in the cage, and tied it shut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hunter tied the cage up in a tree in the jungle, and left. When he returned several hours later, he found a monkey trapped to the outside of the cage by his hand, which was holding the banana inside the cage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the monkey saw the hunter approaching he screamed and struggled, but could not escape for he refused to let go of the banana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will the monkey release the banana and escape? That depends on the monkey. How greedy is he? How attached is the monkey to the banana? Will he release it in time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our position is similar to that of the monkey in this way – we have an economic system that does not and cannot give us what we truly need, and as long as we hang on to it, it will endanger us. Thus, it is time to let go of the old economy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first step in that process was to recognize, in our hearts, that every thing we have is temporary. Our next step is to let go of those forms – including thoughts and emotions – associated with the old economy. As we proceed we will get more specific in what we release, and we will begin to use the Law of Relationship to build the new economy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found the following to be very calming and relaxing, and quite useful during this time of change and stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I Release All Technique&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sit comfortably with your back straight, your feet flat on the floor and your arms on the chair’s armrests or in your lap (not crossed).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes and relax your physical body – beginning with your toes and moving upward to your head, command each portion to relax. Imagine a relaxing warmth, a tingling sensation, golden light, or whatever other method works for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly relax your toes… your feet… ankles… forelegs…knees… thighs… buttocks… tummy… lower back… diaphragm… upper back… chest and heart… fingers… hands… forearms… upper arms… shoulders… neck… tongue… scalp…the muscles of the face… and the muscles behind the eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Move your self awareness into your heart (If it helps, you may picture a tiny version of yourself standing within a sphere of golden-white light in the middle of your chest).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From your position in the heart, audibly state the following (pausing between each):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;I release all my thoughts to the one life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;I release all my emotions to the one life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;I release all my forms to the one life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;I release all my appearances to the one life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Audibly sound the OM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a deep breath, and as you release it slowly relax the attention, and return to your normal focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An audio version of the “I Release All” technique may be found &lt;a href="http://library.upline.com/GKnape@aol.com_bc29483b-c4fc-4b19-8ba6-94664372fdc9.pub"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All audio files in this blog are in non-streamable wma format.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-6024460820894849013?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/6024460820894849013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/10/releasing-all-capturing-greedy-monkey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/6024460820894849013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/6024460820894849013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/10/releasing-all-capturing-greedy-monkey.html' title=''/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-4697613772218818108</id><published>2008-10-27T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T11:03:14.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The First Step</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first step in creating the new world economy is to release the old one – not only the form, but the thoughts and emotions associated with it. This will help direct our attention from restoring the old to building the new, and will free up the materials from the old and make them available to the new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next step is to invoke new energies from the planetary life for the new economy. These energies are available to the new economy because it is being built as part of that life. We are, in effect, using the Law of Relationship to relate one part of the planetary life with another, and create a flow of energy between them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are able to do this because our self or soul, the inner narrator, is part of the one planetary self and thus has the ability to relate any part of that life with any other part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the essence of the Law of Relationship – that everything is related to everything else within the one life. What we are doing here is using that fact to relate the economy of the planetary life, with the economy of humanity, creating a new world economy that serves everyone and everything in the planetary life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is really quite simple, &lt;grin&gt; but our ego’s and mind make it seem complex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will begin with what I call the This Shall Pass technique. I have found it quite useful during times our outer change and stress.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This Shall Pass Technique&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Sit comfortably with your back straight, your feet flat on the floor and your arms on the chair’s armrests or in your lap (not crossed).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes and relax your physical body – beginning with your toes and moving upward to your head, command each portion to relax. Imagine a relaxing warmth, a tingling sensation, golden light, or whatever other method works for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly relax your toes… your feet… ankles… forelegs…knees… thighs… buttocks… tummy… lower back… diaphragm… upper back… chest and heart… fingers… hands… forearms… upper arms… shoulders… neck… tongue… scalp…the muscles of the face… and the muscles behind the eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Move your self awareness into your heart (If it helps, you may picture a tiny version of yourself standing within a sphere of golden-white light in the middle of your chest).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From your position in the heart, audibly state the following (pausing between each):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;all thoughts shall pass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;all emotions shall pass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;all forms shall pass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;all appearance will pass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;I am Divine Purpose, Power, and Will&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;I am Divine Love-Wisdom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;I am Divine Intelligence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;I am Divine Harmony&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;I am Divine Knowledge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;I am Divine Aspiration&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul,&lt;br /&gt;I am Divine Law and Order&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Soul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Audibly sound the OM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a deep breath, and as you release it slowly relax the attention, and return to your normal focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An audio version of this technique may be found &lt;a href="http://library.upline.com/GKnape@aol.com_bdb14a2e-3c83-4e47-932a-bd662bbda76b.pub"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All audio files in this blog are in non-streamable wma format.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;copyright © 2008 by Glen Knape&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-4697613772218818108?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/4697613772218818108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/10/first-step.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4697613772218818108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/4697613772218818108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/10/first-step.html' title='The First Step'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1292711346633851209.post-5371797134225866310</id><published>2008-10-26T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T15:58:05.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Introduction</title><content type='html'>Imagine that you have the power to help recreate the world. Would you be willing to do so? &lt;br /&gt;I ask because you do have that power, and together we can transform the world. The Law of Relationship, or The Law of Attraction, enables us to recreate the world. It is really quite simple to do, but it will take many of us working together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next question is, if you accepted that you had that power, where would you begin? I propose that we begin with the world economic crisis – on which so much attention is focused - and use the Law of Relationship to recreate the world economy. I propose that we help build a world of abundance for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My third question is for myself. How do I tell you how to use the Law of Relationship to transform the world economy? I propose to keep it simple, by telling short, true-life stories that show how it is done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These stories include the basic elements of the magical process through which we can recreate the world. With this process, we will create a new world economy that is attuned to the one life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working together, using the techniques posted here, we can help humanity take its next step and build an economy that serves all including the entire planetary life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1292711346633851209-5371797134225866310?l=creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/feeds/5371797134225866310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/10/creating-new-economy-introduction.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/5371797134225866310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1292711346633851209/posts/default/5371797134225866310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://creatingthenewworldeconomy.blogspot.com/2008/10/creating-new-economy-introduction.html' title='Introduction'/><author><name>Glen Knape</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14749253391094277787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W1r8USPbjN4/SQiqA3sFguI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Bc7zdCofMjk/S220/IMG_3296.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
