Extras

The city of Prague is a place I’ve read and heard about since I was very young. They say that every story ever told began in Prague. While it is doubtful that every story began in Prague. I think it is correct for the art of storytelling. Storytelling was made into art here and even Disney — the great storytelling cinema company — features their iconic Tinkerbell flying around the steeple of a building in Prague. So there’s probably something here in this city every storyteller needs to discover.

After checking into the hotel and making my way through the long hallways to my room, I pull the curtain back on the window. The winter sky is filled with heavy clouds making the world’s backdrop appear in dark shades of grey and black. A gentle cold rain falls through the clouds downward and onto the buildings and streets below. After taking in the scene a few minutes, I noticed an unusual ornament suspended above the road.

A cable (or two), attached to the hotel just below the window from where I gaze is stretched across the street and attached to the building on the other side. My room is on the third floor, and I’ll estimate the cable is thirty feet above the street. Midway along the cable is what I would call a sizeable almond-shaped ornament. Being the second week of December, I assume this is an ornament for the Christmas season.

There are twenty-eight tree branches (I counted) tied at the top and the bottom and bent to form the almond shape and spaced apart into a three-dimensional ornament. I’ll attach a photo below to help with the visualization. The branches are clean. There are no stems or leaves, and even the bark has been removed. I can tell the branches have been there for some time. The bottom appears more supple while the tops are drained of sap and dried out.

Oddly enough, this was the only ornament of its kind that I saw over the next five days while exploring the city. I never asked anyone about it though. Perhaps someone reading this knows what the almond ornament is and will share the story.

After puzzling over the suspended tree branches and taking in the view of the hotel’s immediate surroundings, I’m well-rested and ready to explore. The pedestrian bridge known as The Charles Bridge is first on my list of places to experience. A quick search on Google maps and the walking directions are shown on my Samsung phone. Just two and a half kilometers away. A few zig-zags here and there through the many streets of the area identified as Praha one.

Along the way, there are hundreds of shops selling everything from diamonds to touristy souvenirs lining the cobblestone streets and polished stone walks. I stopped in a few to look and did manage to purchase a few trinkets and a couple of postcards. In the mix with the stores are restaurants, bars, and cafes. The ancient cobblestones are uncomfortable for a man my age, but they add to the decor of this magical city. Almost as soon as I realize the magic of it all, I round the corner, and there it is — the bridge.

http://www.muzeumkarlovamostu.cz/

Suddenly it is only 20 steps ahead. The pillars supporting the archway strike me with what can only be expressed as, wow. I’m only partially aware of the traffic light don’t walk signal holding me in place as I unpack the images in front of me. Then, finally, the light signal frees me and a dozen others. I cross the street and make my way through the arched gateway and onto the bridge. The rush of emotions swelled inside my head and chest. I’m aware of the seven hundred-year histories of this bridge; Oddly I’m experiencing the presence of the millions of lives that have passed through this archway.

The expanse of the bridge is further than I had imagined as it crosses the river joining people on either shore together. There are so few things in modern life that bring us together. Perhaps, I muse, a bridge should be the iconic symbol we all adopt in the year ahead—T-shirts, bumper stickers, lawn signs, email signatures, and the like brandishing the bridge.

Charles the IV has been credited with the architecture and layout for the city of Prague. I’ve read that he used the depiction and details of heaven as a blueprint for the city from the Christian bible. 

The bridge is lined from end to end (along either side) with statues depicting Christian themes featuring the crucifixion cross and saintly halos. The statues’ faces tell the emotional impact felt by those captured by the sculpture in stone. The haunting eyes, suffering brows and mouths, and desperate gestures and postures resonate with the message of the need for salvation. Slowly I make my way across as I veer back and forth statue by statue.

Perhaps a hundred steps or less after reaching the other side of The Charles Bridge I stop at a cafe for a cup of hot tea. My feet and legs need a break, and something hot is necessary on this cold winter’s day. She brings me a large clear mug filled with steaming hot water. I tear open a sack of black tea and watch as it absorbs the water and slowly sinks to the bottom. Soon, the magical elixir seeps out of the tea leaves, and I watch it curl and spread, coloring the once clear water. Perhaps my next stop, methinks, will be the alchemy museum.

People are abandoning their Earthly gods for a chance at a better way of life and prosperity in other worlds. Many philosophers think Buddhism’s Nirvana will be the sole divine promise realized throughout the universe. 

Three previous Kings on Planet 444 have prepared the contemporary civilization to transcend. In book 3 of the series, the fourth King, Maha, has started implementing regulations for the ultimate effort. However, dark matter possesses its own methods.

In this four-book series, Cyborgs are experimenting with human DNA and biomechanical implants. Unfortunately, the planet used for the experiment isn’t healthy for long-term survival. The faithful Buddhists can’t find the needed sutras, and they have discovered no clues of the Buddha’s presence here. Or are they searching for awareness in the wrong places? 

Canibus plants offer miraculous developments in fabrics and pharmaceuticals that are helping to make life better. But then, Cyborgs hide their conscious-supercomputer there, the spiritual leader leaves, Maha doubts himself, the Yogini calls out the universe, and only the Oracle sees all.

Book 3 Origins

Not long ago I wrote, I’m not writing stories in hope of anyone, besides myself, ever reading them. I’m not craving fame nor fortune for these efforts. Indeed it is an effort that is ripe with the potential to cause karma. Karma I don’t need and that I don’t desire. So instead, I write this story to convey the liberation that has become available to all sentient beings. The liberation that is available for those who read this as well as for those who do not. And that’s what I meant. I mean, that is, the part about karma causes me great worry. But the drive to write is from a source more grounded than karma. At least I hope it is.

“Give me a paragraph or two to explain.” That’s how it started. I’ll explain it this way. Most nights when I go to sleep I start with clear mind meditation. I’ve practiced this for more than forty years. It starts by waking me to the pillow and the bed. Laying on my back, legs outstretched, arms at my sides. I turn my thoughts to see this place in the bed as a meditation. Neither comfortable, snuggling into the mattress, pillows, and sheets, nor uncomfortable. Just being here in a meditation pose. My body recognizes the mind and my mind recognizes the body. The task for the body works to calm itself and relax. My mind does the same. No aches, no pain. No worries, no running dialogue. Mind and body in equipoise. 

To tell the truth, I often have to start over from the beginning a dozen or more times before the mind and body reach harmony. What follows is worth the several minutes spent starting over, and over, and over again. Well, truth be told, you’re not supposed to tell people what happens when you reach the various Jhanas stages or whatever because when we hear what someone else got from meditation we strive to experience the same or better sort of thing. Totally makes sense when you hear or read that. At the same time who wants to get just a little hint or something substantial to start with. Otherwise, after the third or fourth… legs outstretched my arms at my side, blah blah blah. We just close our eyes and fall asleep.

Here’s some straight-up room temperature, peaty Isla Scotch. Let’s agree, a shot of Ardbeg. Anyway, analogy aside, I walk into the dream state and I can see fingers tapping away on a keyboard. I can hear the keys getting pressed. Sometimes the typing is fast and other times it is slow. The dream begins to pull back away from the keyboard and fingers. I can see the blurry frame and well-lit monitor of what looks to be a laptop. As the dream pulls further back the room begins to come into view, but nothing is actually in clear focus. Slowly, back and back, and away from the laptop, the dream opens.

Eventually, I can see the person sitting at the dining room table, typing away. There must be five or six empty chairs and no one else in the room. Just one person typing away. The room is dimly lit with what seems like a wall sconce positioned just behind the typist. I’m floating and observing and just starting to wonder if this dream could be any more boring when I’m suddenly aware the typing has stopped. The typist has left the table. I heard a door close and it was that sort of noise where I wondered, was that in the dream, or is someone in the house? I chose to stay awake in the dream.

As the dream moves me toward the laptop this time instead of away. Closer and closer until all I can see is what the typist had written. I scrolled all the way to the top of the writing. 

Here’s what it was about.

Please Sign Up To Be Informed About My New Books