New Blog / Upcoming Classes

All,

2011 promises to be full of potential for growth in self awareness and in service to humanity and the One Life.

Each of the following are designed to be of assistance along the way, and you are welcome to participate.

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.

Blessings,

Glen


Upcoming Activities

How to Serve Humanity


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.

Sundays focus on esoteric information,
Tuesdays on transformative inner techniques, and
Thursdays on real-world examples (usually from my own life).

Subscription is FREE, and nothing is advertised or for sale on the blog.

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.”

"A Divine Farmer's Market of Spiritual Teaching - Varietal, Fresh, Live and Organic.”
Michael
Located at: http://howtoservehumanity.com/



Coming Soon!

Creative Thinking

“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.

“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.”
Creative Thinking, by Lucille Cedercrans, pp. 97–98

41 lessons, taught live online (audio/video, and text), 1 per week
The Class will begin when enough students are registered
To apply or for further information write to: GKnape@aol.com


Also coming in 2011:

Creating the New World Civilization

A course on how to use the inner creative process to help humanity take its next step in evolution.

The Class will begin when enough students are registered
To apply or for further information write to: GKnape@aol.com


Also coming early in 2011:

The Ashram of Synthesis

Our Purpose, Consciousness, and Work

Book published in early spring, class will begin shortly thereafter (when enough students are registered)
To apply or for further information write to: GKnape@aol.com

The Zipper

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.

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.

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).

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.

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.

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.

“Billie?” I called as I hurried up.

“The zipper’s stuck in my hair,” Billie replied.

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.

I moved into my heart, and said, “Hang on, I’ll have you free in a minute.”

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.

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.

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.

Joyful Blessings!

Glen

Living in Joy

The ether flowed into, through and from us as we walked, radiating magnetic light into the evening.

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.

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.

Two middle-aged women in black—leather, fishnet stockings, and boots

A sour-faced woman who I aligned with harmony and joy

Two giggling teen girls, elfin slender on the cusp of womanhood

A wrinkled old woman seated on a bench, hunched around her cane—who smiled and said that no, she did not need assistance.

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.

Joyful Blessings!

Glen

Monday at the Library

They were still there when I emerged from the Library.

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).

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.

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 & 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.

After a couple more brief encounters, I checked out my books, walked past the alarm sensors, and out the sliding glass doors.

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.

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.

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.

Deb would be home early.

Happy New Year!

Glen

Giving

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Grinning, I invoked and radiated Joy, and continued on my way.

Happy Holidays!

Glen

Giving Thanks

As we sat down to dinner, Deb asked, “Who will say the prayer?”

It was a traditional Thanksgiving gathering, my first as part of this family, with all the usual activities. On Wednesday we shopped for food, played board games, and went to a movie.

Thursday there was the cooking, the dinner (with all the fixings), cleanup, more games, videos, discussion and laughter.

Friday we went shopping for Christmas presents (taking advantage of the sales at the local mall), ate leftovers, and saw Planet 51.

Saturday, the family began returning to their homes, with the first car leaving in the mid morning for the drive to California.

Today we drove the college student back up to Northern Arizona University. We ate lunch at the Student Union while the morning’s snow melted, then drove back to Phoenix.

Through it all I held the focus in the heart, simply being mindful of everyone and everything, and aligning all with the one life.

Happy Holidays!

Glen

The Millionaire

The white-haired retiree waived at the white-haired retiree next to him and declared, “this guy’s a millionaire!”

Susie’s soccer team had been winning two to nothing when they called the half-time break. When Susie settled down with her water and snack, I indicated (by asking Deb if it was OK) that I was going to visit the farmer’s market.

The booths of the farmer’s market were just across the parking lot from the soccer fields, and this was the third time a game had coincided with the market. The market had been closing by the time the game ended the other times, so I figured half-time was a good time to check it out.

As I approached I saw it was a small, local market of about thirty to forty booths—canvas awnings supported by metal poles, sheltering folding tables that held boxes or displays of merchandise. Most of the merchandise was locally-grown “natural” and/or “organic” produce, offered by the gardener/farmers who grew it. But there were also displays of tie-dye clothing, hand-made jewelry, flower essences, and various other products.

I’d purchased some produce. Twice been asked what kind of Yoga I practiced (my “OM” pendant was visible), which led to some interesting conversations on meditation, had just sampled and purchased an “Inner Peace” flower essence, and was feeling fairly mellow when I was waylaid at another booth.

A white-haired retired gentleman stepped forward, waived at the fellow retiree next to him and declared, “this guy’s a millionaire!”

“So!” I replied, as I aligned upward from the heart through my head, and outward from my heart to the two retirees. “Studies have shown that once our basic needs are met—food, clothing, shelter, occupation, companionship—additional money and things don’t make us any happier.”

Frowning, he replied, “It sure comes in handy when we need something!”

Aligning him upward with divine intent, I replied, “but how much do you truly need, and how often is it only a want?”

The situation was rather awkward, and I needed to get back. So I Nodded in apology to the wealthy man, to whom I still hadn’t been introduced, and headed back to the soccer game.

Namaste,

Glen

Balancing

The skaterboy leaped onto the 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.

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.

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 courtyard 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.

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.

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.

As Debbie sat 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.

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.

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.

Namaste,

Glen

Hijacked

My cell vibrated, and I leaned a bit to the right as I grabbed it from my pocket and flipped it open.

“Glen, this is Betty, are you OK?”

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?”

“You’re not in Warwickshire, England, you haven’t been mugged, and it’s not you who is requesting assistance on Fastbook?”

“Um… No. I haven’t been to England since ’89.”

“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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

Namaste,

Glen

Purification

The brownie reached into the muck at the bottom of the pan, and plucked out a tiny grain of gold.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I repeated the process twice more, giving all the gold to Susie, who thanked me for helping her collect it.

Waterfall

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Once rested, we drank the last of our water and continued on our way.

Namaste,

Glen

Yay!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Concluding the conversation, I departed into the heat of the evening and made my way home.

Namaste,

Glen

Calving Season

The faun kicked feebly. Its neck hung boneless, and it sucked air in broken gasps.

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.

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.

It was calving season, and the road stood between does and fauns emerging from the forest and an abundance of fresh spring grass.

Cheryl’s window stopped whirring down, and she called, “Do you need assistance?” to the ranger standing over the faun.

“No thanks!” he replied, “I think this one’s done for.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Then I withdrew from the ranger, back into my own heart, and wiped the tears from my eyes.

Namaste,

Glen


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.

Glen

Fill the Boot!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Namaste,

Glen

Shut Up!

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.

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.

A parrot screeched, and a woman shouted, “Shut up!”

When I reached the next house, it screeched again, and again the woman shouted, “Shut up!” in annoyance.

When I reached the house after that, it screeched again, and the woman’s shaking voice screamed “Shut up!”

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.

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.

I focused in my heart and extended its radius outward, touching the aura of the house, and found old age, bitterness, and loneliness.

I aligned upward, to the source of Divine Love, and invoked it downward, infusing the house, and its occupants, with the Light of Love.

I aligned upward again, to the source of Divine Purpose, and invoked it downward, infusing the occupants with the Light of Purpose.

I left the Light in place as I walked on, guiding those who dwelled in shadows to their next step.

Namaste,

Glen

The Ride

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.

“Can you give me a ride? I’m trying to get to my uncle’s place, and my car broke down.”

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.

“Which direction?” I asked.

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.

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.

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.

“What were you doing?” she asked.

“Publishing committee meeting. I’m part of a company that publishes spiritual textbooks, and this was our monthly meeting.”

“Oh? That’s cool. I left my medicine in my uncle’s car, and I have to pick it up.”

“Medicine?”

“I have a tumor in the left side of my brain.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll pray for you.”

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.

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.

Namaste,

Glen

Abundance 2

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Holding that invocative alignment, I prepared to participate in the meal.

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.

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.

Namaste,

Glen

The Way is Shut

The slender young woman walked up to Ben and asked, “Do you know how to get in?”

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.”

Ben watched in concern as she turned and walked up to the doors – large, solid wood, clad in iron bands, and closed against intruders.

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.

I moved into my heart, and aligned upward through the top of my head to the Wisdom of this Age.

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.

Then I held the alignment, and waited for her to be admitted.

Namaste,

Glen

Misunderstanding

Alice waived me over to the table she shared with Bea. I smiled back, accepting the invitation, and took the nearest chair.

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.

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.

Alice and Bea, attending the conference for the first time, outlined their plans to create a spiritual center while I asked leading questions.

My dinner arrived, and Bea asked, "Why do Bailey people have a problem with Cedercrans?"

For a moment I considered ducking the question, but an olive thunked off the top of my head.

I sighed, and moved into the heart center.

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.

Recognizing the unity behind the Bailey and Cedercrans teachings, I aligned outward, from the heart, with the misunderstandings between them.

Then, I invoked the Light of Truth into the misunderstandings, and began to speak.

Namaste,

Glen

The Outbreak

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.


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.


I focused in the heart, recognized that it was not adequate for the task, and moved into the heart of humanity.


Dishes clinked as they were bussed from a nearby table.

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.


The voices of fellow conference attendees murmured around me.


Holding that upward alignment, I aligned outward to humanity, and within humanity to the human astral body and immune system.


Someone called out to a friend as they arrived.

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.


I will likely repeat and hold this alignment many times in the following weeks, but we are ready.

What will you do to assist in this time of need?


Namaste,


Glen


From the Seven Ray Institute Conference