Do We Dare? - Stories of Transforming the Broken

By Elaine Glancy

Transformation, as it is used in this book of short stories, means a radical and complete change from existing according to taught conditioned thought to being the nature of the universe itself.
It is what happens when a cocoon becomes a caterpillar, a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. It is what happens when a tadpole becomes a frog, or an embryo becomes a human being.
It is a process of change, which by its nature takes a completely different direction from where or what it was before. Every stage of transformation entails a complete leaving, or letting go of, what was, in order to become what it is.
This process may be seen as a path, rather than a destination, for it is an endless process of change.
This book of short stories came out of being on the path of transformation. I have been on this path for many years. I was an English teacher for about 30 years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312112162

Book preview

Do We Dare? - Stories of Transforming the Broken

DO WE DARE?

Stories of Transforming the Broken

Acknowledgments

My most steadfast, wholehearted, fellow participants in my work, and play, and intense interest in truth and transformation are my husband, John Glancy, and my very good friend, John Moore.

I know that my children Gabrielle Glancy, Brian Glancy, and Chris Glancy, having been brought up with transformations in one way or another, have always given me their love and support.

Book Cover designed by John Moore.

Cover Photo by John Glancy.

Foreword

Transformation, as it is used in this book of short stories, means a radical and complete change from existing according to taught conditioned thought to being the nature of the universe itself.

It is what happens when a cocoon becomes a caterpillar, a caterpillar becomes a butterfly.  It is what happens when a tadpole becomes a frog, or an embryo becomes a human being.

It is a process of change that by its nature takes a completely different direction from where or what it was before.  Every stage of transformation entails a complete leaving, or letting go of, what was, in order to become what it is.

This process may be seen as a path, rather than a destination, for it is an endless process of change.

This book of short stories came out of being on the path of transformation.  I have been on this path for many years.  I was an English teacher for about 30 years.  When I look at it now, I realize that I have always been, in one way or another, teaching from being on the path, at different times, in different ways.  When I was at my best, passionate, authentic, joyful, the voice was loud and clear. At other times, it was there, but not so clear or strong.

About a year ago, like a mountain spring that suddenly begins to come up from underground, these stories began to come to me, all put together, and all that was needed was for me to put them down, as I heard them.  They flowed from one to another and it didn't take very long for it to become a book of short stories.  When I re-read the stories, I realized that they all were the energy of transformation coming from deep within, ready and eager to come out into the open.

May this mountain spring of stories be for your blossoming, in whatever way that it happens, with love and joy in my heart, to yours,

Elaine Glancy

Introduction

When you look over the entire world in this year 2014, the word that best describes it is broken.  If you want convincing evidence, make a list of all that which is broken in our world.  Unfortunately, it is as easy as pie, beginning with education, government, finances and business, sports, the church, individual lives, divorce, drugs, suicides, and going on to the killing of millions of people all over the world, each and every day.

There are probably as many ideas for this broken state of affairs as there are people in the world. The problem is that there is not a deep enough and substantial understanding to carry the burden of getting to the bottom of anything so important and as devastating as a broken world.

Let’s begin with a question.  Who is responsible for bringing about this brokenness?  We can say that human beings, through living their lives in a certain way, for an uncountable number of years have never succeeded in bringing about a world which is not broken.  There has to be an intelligent reason for this.

We have invented technological wonders, and we are wandering around exploring space, like boy scouts on a weekend cookout. We have a load of imagination, lots of courage, and can, through our minds, significantly change the world, but we have never been able to fix what is dreadfully broken.  The styles change, the music changes, everything changes, except that the world, if anything, is more broken than it ever was, and there is nothing on the horizon which indicates a change in the nature of human beings.

What is being suggested here is that there is something in the nature of human beings which makes it impossible to create a workable world, and until we get to understand what that something is it will go on being broken or be completely destroyed.

It seems necessary to begin to inquire as deeply and meaningfully as possible into the nature of human beings which has brought about so much destruction.

We don’t have to go very far to explore the nature of human beings.  It’s right there where we are, whatever we are doing.  We just have to notice what is happening.  Usually, we only look closely at ourselves when there are some symptoms of dis-ease, or distress. When this occurs, we look for fixes.  We go to doctors for advice or medication.  We have a few drinks to hide the distress, or take some street drugs, like heroin, cocaine, or others.  We ask friends for their suggestions, like over the counter medications.  We may go to a psychiatrist, psychologist, acupuncturist or any of the many practitioners of alternative medicine.

Perhaps we have given up the hope that anyone or anything out there will fix our problems, or alleviate our stress and make life less distressful. In our experience, nothing seems to work.  Everything we do in our personal life seems as broken as it does in the wider world. Since this seems to be true, it moves us to look more closely at what is closest to us, and accessible to us, ourselves.

What seems to be going on, more than anything else is our thoughts.  They go on all day, all night and also into our dreams.  Sometimes they occur so quickly, we can’t seem to see them clearly, but the rapidity makes us feel like we are watching an extremely fast race, and this upsets us.  Fortunately, they also occur more slowly and in an organized way and then, we can watch them if we are intent in finding out what they are and what part of our lives they play.

We have already been involved in explaining our thoughts, or trying to analyze what they are saying, such as angry thoughts, distasteful thoughts, guilt thoughts, and so on and on in a repetitive way, and we try to act in accordance with what we are thinking.  This analytical approach can occupy almost all of our time, but it never changes the fact that we are in a great deal of distress and pain.

There is another way to examine our thoughts and that is what we are going to do, now. Let’s listen to them, and feel them as they happen.  See them without interpreting them or analyzing them in any way.  I see anger.  I see criticism.  I see guilt.  I see that they are about the past.  I see that they keep repeating themselves over and over.  I see that I feel held by them and can’t stop thinking about them.  I see them as a drama, with characters, actions, dialogues.

I shut my eyes and the thoughts begin to fade and my mind is silent, and I feel at peace.  I am meditating.  I notice that there is no me, I, or self at all.  It is a body sitting silently without thinking.  There is no sense of time or place.  What has happened?  What I call I has disappeared.  Thinking is gone.  I see that thinking and self are one and the same.  Thinking creates the self, and the self creates thinking.

Where does thought get all the material to keep it going, endlessly?  It is taught what to think about everything.  It is taught to act on the basis of thought.  It is taught to see the self in the accumulation of memories going through the mind.  It is taught to see the present through eyes of thought, or the past.

Most importantly, thought identifies the self.  The self is what it thinks.  This process of self identification is promoted by everything in our world, intentionally and unintentionally.  Without thought, there is no self at all.  There is only a body which is in the whole universe.  It does not have opinions, perceptions, self-preoccupations.  It is only in the present and its connections are immediate, fresh, and new.  It does not separate itself from the universe.  It is the universe.  Its resources are infinite.  Its intelligence embraces the whole.  There are no emotions or dramas, which are created by thought.  It is the only reality.  It is the only truth.

Thought and the creation of a self, is an illusion.  It has no reality.  It doesn’t exist, except as it is imagined in the mind.  It has no substance and therefore can disappear in the flicker of an eyelash.  One may well ask, at this point, how the illusions created by thought can make any intelligent decisions. How can it be making a world which makes sense when it is an illusionary reality being applied to an illusionary world, seen falsely as separated from the whole?  How can the world function in a whole way when it is so broken and fragmented, and unreal?  If it continues in this way, there will never be anything but a broken world, full of pain and suffering!

The solution to a broken world can only come with a complete change of human nature from living a life of illusion that it is a separate being from the whole to the realization of its oneness with the universe.

Why is it so difficult to see the absolute, connection between each and every human being and the universe, when our existence is completely based on the universe?  We breathe the air, we drink the water, we eat the food, and we see by the sun, are cooled by the breezes, and on and on infinitely.  There exists no human being without the universe.  There exists no energy, without the universe.

Where is what we call the self, which is created by thought?  It is considered to be separate from the universe, and since nothing can be separated from the universe, it doesn’t exist as a reality, but only as an illusion.  Would I ever willingly see myself as nothing but an illusion, created by imagination, which is itself an illusion? No identity?  Give me a break. I’ll be willing to turn the whole world upside down so as to avoid losing what I hold as most important in life – my self.  You mean to say that the universe, not the self is the only reality there is or ever was, or will ever be?  Forget it.  Let’s live in a forever broken world and hold fast to the biggest illusion of all – the self.

The alternative is to investigate a world without self, as universe, cosmos, spirit, or whatever you would like to call it.  This occurs relatively frequently when something occurs too quickly for thought to become activated and the person is able to perform a feat without thought, but with a connected oneness with the whole – and has access to the intelligence of all, the oneness.  Some athletes have discovered this possibility and are able to put themselves into a selfless state and are able to see the whole and therefore make the perfect move.  Everything clicks.  Everything is in harmony.  There is no interference of thought to throw everything into fragments and out of kilter. These are moments of oneness – nothing is broken into fragments.

The importance of oneness is that there is no such thing as duality.  There is no conflict; everything works in synchrony with everything else.  There are many times, usually in horrific crises, that everyone works with oneness and, at least for a time, there is no self, which means no ego, and the whole is seen as a mighty force in which love blooms freely, motiveless, and life is elevated to unbelievable heights.  We have all felt these extraordinary, real, moments.  But they quickly pass and we are back to perpetuating the illusion of self, or ego.

It appears that humanity is more afraid of living without illusions, with truth and unadulterated perception, than anything else.  People do all kinds of destructive things – like become alcoholics or druggies, or find any means possible to block off the real world and live in a world of illusions. The only trouble with this path is that it never works.  What inevitably happens is that when an illusionary view of the world prevails, everything gets broken, because nothing can succeed with an illusionary, distorted view of the world.

What is the solution?  Is it possible for one person to free themselves from the insane bondage of living through illusion and become a whole being, living by the only real, powerful truth of the whole.  It is probably the most difficult transformation that can occur in a human being because it means living comfortably, peacefully, lovingly, in a world which is unknown and unknowable.  It is a cosmos with no beginning, no end, and infinite, immeasurable and timeless.  It seems as though it might be the only path for real love to be born, for all relationships to be true and no such thing as self or self-serving behavior.  It seems like it might be the only climate likely to bring wholeness, health, beauty and serenity.  Can we work along this path to bring about something altogether different?  Do we dare leave our familiar shores for the unknown?

Do we dare..?

Chapter 1: Frog

If you got a peek at Nanny and Pop-pop's garden, you would think- goodness gracious, are all the frogs in the world in their garden? They are not real frogs. But look at them.  This one is very shinny and has sparkles on its back. That one is very, very green and has a crown on its head. Is he the king? And right next to the King is this frog full of dirt. You can see that it has so much dirt on its head and body, you can just about see his head, but he has a smile on his face so he must have had a lot of fun playing in the dirt! Across the grass you can see this lady frog, just in case you thought they were all boy frogs. Eh? She has a wire body, and a head that wiggles back and forth and big, big round eyes and a skirt that blows up in the wind.  (Right now there is no wind, so the bright colored skirt is still)  I wanted you to see their garden so you would know something about what comes next, Eh?

My grandparents live very, very far from where we live so it was on a visit to them that we saw their wonderful frog garden and I have had a picture of it (all of it) in my mind for a long, long time.  Isn't it beautiful?

When we heard that they were coming to visit us, we were very happy and excited and tore up paper into little pieces and threw them into the air.  Momo said we had to pick them all up and put them in the garbage quickly because we had to do something to get ready for Nanny and Pop-Pop's visit.  We were all going to a store that had frogs, like in Nanny and Pop-Pop's garden, and we were going to pick one out to give to them.

In the car we all started to ask a lot of questions.  Should it be a little one that sits on a rock? Should it be a big one that is carrying a sunflower as an umbrella?  How about a lady frog in a bikini sitting next to a bowl full of water?  How about two baby frogs sitting on their mother's lap?    We finally got to a garden store that had a whole lot of frogs.

In the garden store we saw so many frogs (and other animals) that we felt all mixed up.     The owner of the store came over to us and said he would show us around in order to help us find what we wanted.  Then he pointed to different animals and asked us if we knew what it was.  It was a little silly because of course we knew what they were.  But it was fun and we laughed a lot and he laughed too.  He was a nice man, and I got a feeling that we would find just the right frog in this store

Can you picture us running all around the place looking at all the frogs, someone saying, This one,  No, let's get this one a frog that had a Welcome sign on its belly, No I like this one at a frog that had lost one of its flip flops.

I don't know when it happened but there was a frog sitting by itself off to one side which suddenly lit up the whole place and made everyone turn to it and together shout This is it, this is the one.  And then everyone was quiet - really quiet - and everyone looked over at it examining it and actually touching it in a special way.

Frogetto (the name we gave to the frog) was very big and I mean BIG.  It took my whole lap to hold him on the way home from the store, and he was heavy.  He was made out of stone. Someone said he looked like a bull frog.  I could really imagine he would wind up being the ''King'' of Nanny and Pop-Pop's garden.  He would be a good "King'' that took care of all the other frogs in the garden.  When I touched him, he felt smooth and soft.  Soft is a funny way to feel something made of heavy and strong stone.  He was not at all like the stuffed animals I loved so much.

I took a good look at his face.  He had a smile which went from one side of his face to the other.  It was a gentle, quiet smile that made you feel good all the way to the bottom of your stomach.  His eyelids were falling down over his eyes, like he was almost falling asleep.  But I felt like he saw and heard everything around him.  And he was old.  You could tell by all the wrinkles all over his body. Then and there I knew that it was my job to take care of him all the time he was staying with us.

To get ready for Nanny and Pop-pop's visit which was going to happen the following day, I went into the room where they would be staying and looked for a good place to put Frogetto. I looked into the private bathroom, looked over at the bed they would sleep on, and then at a dresser where they would keep their clothes. That was it, the best place to put Frogetto. I put him on the top of the dresser where he could be seen from anywhere in the room. I carefully covered him with a small blanket and made sure he was covered up to his neck.

I could hardly wait for them to arrive and when I heard their car, I quickly put myself in front of the front door, and after all the hugs and kisses, I put my hands together in a praying way and said: I welcome you to The Temple of Spirit, which I had practiced doing for a while before they came. I could tell by the way they acted that they enjoyed my bowing and saying welcome. There was a lot of kissing, hugging and laughing happily. I did the same thing in front of each new room that they entered, and each time they seemed so happy with my welcome.

All this led up to the moment I opened the door to the guest room, when I said my usual welcome, and then pointed to Frogetto and said: I would like to present our gift to you, Frogetto, which you can put in your garden with all the other frogs.  He is so big and strong, he can take care of all your other frogs.  But you have to be good to him, and take good care of him. Nanny and Pop-pop said: Thank you for the gift and we will take good care of him., and in the next minute everyone was talking and laughing and Frogetto was forgotten.  I felt like crying.  Nobody felt like I did about Frogetto. When everyone left the room I sat and looked at Frogetto and he looked at me, with sadness, I thought, and his mouth fell down a bit on each side.

After a few moments I got up and went to look for where everyone was. Nanny said to me: Remember, little one, no matter how far away we live from you, we can always love you very much.  I nodded my head, feeling love in my heart, and then she said, Also, remember that no matter how far away we live from each other you can love us very much. We kissed and hugged and I felt happy.  Pop-pop was sitting in his walker. He can't walk without his walker but he can talk and play and have a lot of fun with me. I know he loves me very much and he knows I love him very much.  But I am always worried about him, that he will fall and get hurt.   One time, when he was holding me in his lap, he fell down with me still sitting in his lap, and he hurt his arm, and it was bleeding.  (I don't really remember this because I was very little when it happened, but everyone who was there talks about it - how I cried He's bleeding, he's bleeding! and someone telling me; he's all right, he's all right and finally I stopped crying.)

There were other incidents like this one that I do remember and somehow at some time I told myself that I would be the one who took care of Pop-pop. He was old and wrinkled like Frogetto, but he was very loving and strong, and I was afraid people would give him their attention for a few minutes and then, like Frogetto, find something better to do and forget about him. This made me very sad and I went to see how Frogetto was doing.

When I looked at him, it seemed to me he was feeling lonely and sad. I fixed the blanket so it went almost to his nose, and I started to look around for something that would keep him company or that he could play with when he felt like it. I found Pop-pop's hat and put it on his head. It looked funny but he seemed to feel better having Pop-Pop's hat on his head. I found a pair of Pop-pop's socks and put them on Frogetto's stone cold feet.

For the next five days, I took care of Pop-Pop, giving what he asked for and what he needed, playing with him with whatever of my toys he liked to play with.  It was a lot of fun, and I couldn't wait till school was over for the day so I could take care of Pop-Pop.  The floor near his feet was full of toys and books and other things that I thought he would like.

I looked over to where Frogetto was and saw on the dresser next to him all kinds of things that I thought would make Frogetto feel good :  tooth paste, soap, towels, lotions, stuffed animals, pieces of candy, a chocolate colored sweater (the same color of his body), flowers I picked from the garden, and much, much more.

I was so happy. I was in heaven, whatever, and where ever it was. It didn't seem to matter that Nanny and Pop-Pop, and Frogetto were going to leave. I knew in the world of spirit that I had discovered, we would all be together forever, and forever and that was nothing to cry about. Good Gracious, it was something wonderful. Eh?

Chapter2: Song Birds

My name is Owl and I am sitting on the top of this tree.  What I do is "Hoot Hoot'' which no one would really call a song. The other birds you see all around the limbs of the tree are song birds.

First, I'll let each bird tell their name and you can take a good look at them.  After that I'll tell you what their worry is, and I can tell you it's a very, very big worry.  HOOT!

My name is Robin and I can sing a very merry song. It sounds like going pretty fast down a stream. Look at my red breast and belly! Isn't it pretty?  And I’m a bit of a show off if you notice the red shoes on my feet. Just call me Redi.

It's owl again. I didn't tell you that I am the wisest of the birds and that all 12 of these song birds have come to seek my help in taking care of their worry which I can't tell you about yet. Are you ready to meet the second songbird?

Hello, Hoot, Hoot, Owl.  I'm, Mocking Bird. I have my own song but I'm very proud that I can copy the songs of many other song birds, too. They call me Mimic.

I'm Blue Jay, but don't tell anyone because I'm a very noisy bird.  Oh, yes I have a bluish upper body and a crest on my head. I look like a prince with my crest but I sound like the big noisy crowd at a circus.  Just call me Jay.

I'm House Wren, with a small body, long bill rounded wings and a stubby erect tail.  I like bird houses so keep feeding me and call me House Wren.  That sounds too formal. How about calling me Wrenny-wren-wren!

I'm Tufted Titmouse, which has nothing to do with a mouse. Remember I'm a song bird! I don't know who gave me that name. I'm mostly cheery and full of joy. I have ashy grey feathers and a big crest. Call me, um, uh, Cresty sounds good.

I'm a Baltimore Oriole, not the baseball team.  I'm yellow and black with bright orange feathers.  If you've ever seen a hanging nest, that's mine

Hooty hoot hoot. It is