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
Monday, December 28, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
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
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
Sunday, November 29, 2009
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
It was a traditional Thanksgiving gathering, my first as part of this family, with all the usual activities. On Wednesday we shopped for food, played board games, and went to a movie.
Thursday there was the cooking, the dinner (with all the fixings), cleanup, more games, videos, discussion and laughter.
Friday we went shopping for Christmas presents (taking advantage of the sales at the local mall), ate leftovers, and saw Planet 51.
Saturday, the family began returning to their homes, with the first car leaving in the mid morning for the drive to California.
Today we drove the college student back up to Northern Arizona University. We ate lunch at the Student Union while the morning’s snow melted, then drove back to Phoenix.
Through it all I held the focus in the heart, simply being mindful of everyone and everything, and aligning all with the one life.
Happy Holidays!
Glen
Sunday, November 22, 2009
The Millionaire
The white-haired retiree waived at the white-haired retiree next to him and declared, “this guy’s a millionaire!”
Susie’s soccer team had been winning two to nothing when they called the half-time break. When Susie settled down with her water and snack, I indicated (by asking Deb if it was OK) that I was going to
visit the farmer’s market.
The booths of the farmer’s market were just across the parking lot from the soccer fields, and this was the third time a game had coincided with the market. The market had been closing by the time the game ended the other times, so I figured half-time was a good time to check it out.
As I approached I saw it was a small, local market of about thirty to forty booths—canvas awnings supported by metal poles, sheltering folding tables that held boxes or displays of merchandise. Most of the merchandise was locally-grown “natural” and/or “organic” produce, offered by the gardener/farmers who grew it. But there were also displays of tie-dye clothing, hand-made jewelry, flower essences, and various other products.
I’d purchased some produce. Twice been asked what kind of Yoga I practiced (my “OM” pendant was visible), which led to some interesting conversations on meditation, had just sampled and purchased an “Inner Peace” flower essence, and was feeling fairly mellow when I was waylaid at another booth.
A white-haired retired gentleman stepped forward, waived at the fellow retiree next to him and declared, “this guy’s a millionaire!”
“So!” I replied, as I aligned upward from the heart through my head, and outward from my heart to the two retirees. “Studies have shown that once our basic needs are met—food, clothing, shelter, occupation, companionship—additional money and things don’t make us any happier.”
Frowning, he replied, “It sure comes in handy when we need something!”
Aligning him upward with divine intent, I replied, “but how much do you truly need, and how often is it only a want?”
The situation was rather awkward, and I needed to get back. So I Nodded in apology to the wealthy man, to whom I still hadn’t been introduced, and headed back to the soccer game.
Namaste,
Glen
Susie’s soccer team had been winning two to nothing when they called the half-time break. When Susie settled down with her water and snack, I indicated (by asking Deb if it was OK) that I was going to
visit the farmer’s market.The booths of the farmer’s market were just across the parking lot from the soccer fields, and this was the third time a game had coincided with the market. The market had been closing by the time the game ended the other times, so I figured half-time was a good time to check it out.
As I approached I saw it was a small, local market of about thirty to forty booths—canvas awnings supported by metal poles, sheltering folding tables that held boxes or displays of merchandise. Most of the merchandise was locally-grown “natural” and/or “organic” produce, offered by the gardener/farmers who grew it. But there were also displays of tie-dye clothing, hand-made jewelry, flower essences, and various other products.
I’d purchased some produce. Twice been asked what kind of Yoga I practiced (my “OM” pendant was visible), which led to some interesting conversations on meditation, had just sampled and purchased an “Inner Peace” flower essence, and was feeling fairly mellow when I was waylaid at another booth.
A white-haired retired gentleman stepped forward, waived at the fellow retiree next to him and declared, “this guy’s a millionaire!”
“So!” I replied, as I aligned upward from the heart through my head, and outward from my heart to the two retirees. “Studies have shown that once our basic needs are met—food, clothing, shelter, occupation, companionship—additional money and things don’t make us any happier.”
Frowning, he replied, “It sure comes in handy when we need something!”
Aligning him upward with divine intent, I replied, “but how much do you truly need, and how often is it only a want?”The situation was rather awkward, and I needed to get back. So I Nodded in apology to the wealthy man, to whom I still hadn’t been introduced, and headed back to the soccer game.
Namaste,
Glen
Saturday, August 29, 2009
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 courtya
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.
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
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 courtya
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.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
Saturday, August 8, 2009
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
“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
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
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.
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.
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