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Lawrence MacPhail is a martial artist who can literally mystically meditate the entire experience of anybody around him and has to make the difficult decisions about whether or not to intervene when he knows a crime is about to unfold.

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Now it’s 12:30 and it’s crowded.
The park.
All sorts of people. All races, all faces. I over-heard English as often as French. Young and old. Business class, bikers, hippies, smokers of cigarettes, cigars (many cigars, i noticed), pot, people just taking a break eating pizza, gyros, salads, whatever, mostly it seemed folks who totally do this every day at lunch, but others too, and many steady tourists looking at the GIANT HORSE-and-solider monument of the war in the middle of the park. There was also added to the cacophony street noise a remarkable display of major sirens, firetrucks and ambulances, strange really, as if the city was under attack–no kidding. I witnessed in my time at the park what TWICE looked like a major fucking emergency with three fire trucks and two ambulances outside freaking Sun Life Insurance. Not once, TWICE. Freaking weird. Didn’t seem to be a big deal, after all, but Jesus.
Mary Queen of the World Cathedral, the old Windsor Train Station, and The Queen Elizabeth Hotel are the triangulated positions of the Illuminati benchmarks around here, very heavy places to feel into with my abilities.
So anyway I sit down on a bench and begin to read “The Journey.”
And do that for a bit, contemplating the author, my beloved master, a teacher of the ultimate degree.
Looking up from my reading often, seeing all the people, observing them, really interesting actually, seeing this little Montreal mosaic–and then I spontaneously “Push” a little bit. This is just the term i use to describe how I can open my spherical boundaries– which i ordinarily limit, (especially in the city) to perhaps twelve meters around my body–to an almost-anything-can-happen psychic awareness of beings. I seldom ever do this, allow it, or whatever, for many good reasons. But perhaps today, I was more confident in that dimension, after having been in the company while sleeping the night before in my very old apartment house, of entities coming and going (three, one an old female, another female–probably associated with the other, a daughter perhaps– and a fairly dark traveler, at least somewhat non-human in low-grade demonic force who tried to mess with me a little at sleep-time.)
Also it felt completely benign now to push a bit—in spite of the nearby Illuminati structures around etc, which i largely ignored anyway. So i pushed a bit just to see what would happen and if anyone would notice. I felt the people first, all-at-once, an intense occupation of spending break-time: it was lunch hour in the park after all! And there were meetings happening between some pairs here and there, that were new-dates, or, office-friends-done-this-before but hopeful romances potentially–like in the movies.
But exactly, actually. In large, it was just folks eating as fast as they can while thinking about being done with the end of the work day–this was the majority. But then there were some solo folks, who were consciously occupying some more meditative space.
And I “saw” them immediately, after the more general “feeling” impasse that happens initially. (That’s always how it is: the first is just feeling the subjective daily whatever onslaught, then the spaces throughout and those whom are engaged in something better). I felt the whole scene–no doubt a mummified-circus for sure, but more or less benign. So as i am doing this for perhaps five minutes– a tour through the open-psyches of the general-gathering, a huge happy motivated group of high-school-age folks all in the same shorts and shirt and funny head-wear enter the park. I already can hear in my head that they are not there for cancer or such but something else, a service they are safe with, something–ah, i see it is for the homeless. They gather and attract a lot of attention, and sort of rally like a sports team, maybe fifty of them. The energy i feel from them is good, expansive and playful and young, but also one of real service, a sincere positive intention. I push a little bit further and can feel and hear and see all the ordinary stuff kids have. But these are a happy bunch–refreshing. After a few minutes more i see some people starting to make eye-contact with me from this group, and others, and i silently stop “pushing.” It looks like i just go back to my reading, now. I even switch to reading a Star Trek novel instead of the Teaching Manual from my master. After a little while, this motivated group is going about the park and getting donations for, yes, the homeless. Soon, two young guys with their faces painted in some slogan and all happy and engaging come up to me. At first they speak in French, but in just a few beats they notice–as Montrealers do–that I am Anglo. They explain to me that it’s for the homeless, they’ll take even a nickel. I give them a quarter from my pocket. They thank me very happily, but before jumping away to the next someone they hesitate, both of them, simultaneously–and they don’t know why. For a brief fraction of a second I push out very strongly. I hold their hesitated gaze and become transparent to them like a Buddha being held prisoner somewhere, hidden in a garden. Then, without even checking in with the other they each say at the same time something like: “Who are you?” I shrug and say, “A humble man.” Then one of them says, “Aren’t you someone special?” Without missing a beat, I say, “All of us are special, and you are doing a great service.” They brighten fast with a total reception, and sudden amplification of the cheer they already possessed. And then the one of them puts out his hand in a fist of “yeah, man” you know, knock the hand, kind of hommie-gesture. I knock his hand in back in kind, but then I also reach out to grasp his elbow gently. Then, he simply bent over and generously hugged me—his friend joined us for the hug which lasted a burst of ordinary but significant time—I saw various others witnessing the exchange, wondering. As it broke off easily, I touched both their arms and said “Keep it up, young men.” And they laughed and nodded. As they went on they looked back at me several times distracted from their next acquaintance. I smiled at them and waived. Nice. Right? Then, the exact same thing happened again. I was approached for donation, which I gave, but the variation in the question afterward was “Are you famous?” I said no. But then the other said, “But who are you?” I responded simply by saying that they were doing a good service and too keep it up. They also actually hugged me, and trailed away looking back. I go back to my book, but am not reading anymore. And then two more young men approach me for donations. I give 50 cents each this time. We’re speaking English and one of the fellows says “Ahh, I think i know you.” He points at me and nods his head thinking. The other kid says “Are you a celebrity?” I laugh and say, no, but that I know Bono! Haha. They look spelled for a moment, and I tell them “You’re doing a great service keep it up.” The first one isn’t satisfied, and asks me “Where are you from?” I say, “California.” and he says, “You’re not in the movies?” I tell him: “I am, but so are you!” The both laugh, almost as if they totally understand what I mean. I raised my arms up and over my head, strong and tattooed and dramatically, “It’s the Matrix, isn’t it?” They laugh again understanding. Then I said, “Stay un-plugged.” I could tell the first one got it the other one didn’t. I winked at them and they left. The first fellow looked back many times. So, afterward I look around, but am not “pushing” anymore. Yet strangely, I can see a subtle light here and there around the park! I notice then that the young guys who came to me are scattered now about, and are talking happily and animatedly with others. And the last fellow I mentioned, he was obviously telling two others in their group about me, as they were all looking at me. I waived. And they all waived back. Then I watched the two others with him (young teen girls) move away and continue their interactions with the park-people, happily asking for donations– but as i did i could see this subtle light spreading along with them too. I actually do go back to reading my Star Trek novel then for a while. Ambulances and firetrucks make these dramatic entrances and stops along the road but no one seems to notice much, except the tourists. Then suddenly I look up to see one of the young girls coming up to me. I say, “Salut! My French is not so good. Your want a donation?” She said, “Oh that’s ok, you already gave. I just want to know what you’re reading.” I am stunned for a moment, as earlier i was reading “The Journey”, with my master’s amazing picture on the front. Now, I have been reading a Star Trek novel with a huge picture of Captain Kirk. (The Shatner around 40), which I might add, I was gently bending the cover over, so as to hide the truth of my merely geeky sci-fi occupation there—Haha. So, I’m busted. And I just hold it up for her to see. She laughs easily and says, “How’s Star Trek today?” And I say, “Star Trek is always good.” And she says, “I like Star Trek too.” I say “Yay!” and immediately high-five her. She laughs and heads back to her friends. As she romps away, she turns back to look at me twice, even miss-stepping… As she rejoins her friends, I see the subtle light phenomenon–which was kind of hard to see before is more colorful and refracting light in all directions. Then, I went into Bliss for two hours. Open-Eyed, and wider than my any thoughtless mind. Before Tomas finally came to meet me after his hard-core day of dealing with people in the music industry, a number of the kids—more than the ones I had met— had made some contact with the light. When they paraded pass me to leave the park, their big rally over, they stopped talking and looked at me as they walked, slowing, and I nodded to them. A couple of the boys came right close and I raised my right hand and we high-fived but, easily, and with a smile–not all exaggerated like before, just a repose. Very sweet, and heartening. The entire scene pervaded by the Transmission-Force of The Being Itself—which is Reality Itself, The Heart. Radiant Being, like the purest water of any world pervading all the people and things. The subtle light was nearly everywhere. The colors were still refracting here and there in the corners of the park. I saw a rainbow of sudden flashes like subtle fireworks all around my body. I was in the center of the phenomena, exactly. Like an open conduit, fully present with the Divine. Invoking, and Conducting the force of the of Reality. And there was no need to “push” into anything. But I did, just to see what would happen. And I felt the transformation of every person in the fucking park. It was miraculous. Like, the simple-happiest day in their lives! Not so exaggerated, or whatever. But the goodness, the rest, the reflection, the interaction, the RELATIONSHIP became the TOTAL Theme of the Park! No one was worried, no one was rushing–all the excitements had died down–even the ambulances and fire trucks had left. There was peace, and for lack of a better word: HOPE. So, here, (even in the Lair of the Illuminati triad) even with all the daily news and pandemonium on only the fourth or fifth best sunny days in a row for the whole damn shitty-cold-summer here, and with all these young people out to make donations for the homeless, not cancer and all the pretty-cool characters, artists, IT folks, Business Execs, various day-timers of many jobs, even the vendors– I felt them ALL at ease, and, even, heck, and I can say, for real, just plainly, Happy. It was a Garden Party. So as I mindlessly pushed for just a minute or two I saw the work itself my role in myself and EVERYONE– The Watery Force of Reality Arising in and AS Everyone Everywhere. And I simply felt the most amazing cohesion between all the ordinary people now mostly exiting the park after lunch and I understood everything that happened, that didn’t happen, that was yet to happen the happening, altogether. Finally, just for two breaths, I ingested a sigh from the collective there– and made it EASY for everyone to be simply sent-on-their-way, with a boost– it was hardly necessary, but i couldn’t resist. I loved them.

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Blake Elias

San Francisco, US

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