A Trip to Baltimore, and Wayne Dyer, my Dalai Lama

It has been a remarkable two years, almost to the day when sitting at my computer, the title of my book come effortlessly into my head.  It was simple and plain.  No one would not get what this book was about.  And, that it could be of help to others was the momentum that kept me going.  Yesterday morning, June 22, 2014, at about 7:50, although it was an hour before the Hay House event would begin, there was a substantial crowd of well wishers waiting for a signed copy.  I didn’t stop signing until 9am, when literally the last copy was handed over.  The people I spoke to were lovely: men and women who either journaled in the past and for some reason stopped, another who never journaled before but had been encouraged from the day before’s lectures, from others was ready to try it;  on line was a mom to be, who I insisted she write about the birth of her baby and of being a new mom, either for the first time, or for the second time around.  The hour passed as if it were 60 seconds rather than 60 minutes, and to know that all those copies of the book are now out in the world, well there isn’t much better’n than that.


There was some  serendipity going on this weekend, and one that I will share now, as its memory just rises to the top.

Upon checking into the Marriott at Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, I heard some talk that Wayne Dyer had just come into the lobby and had just gone up on the elevator.  Now, Wayne Dyer, for me is like my Dalai Lama.  He is full of wisdom, has a gift of teaching that has mesmerized millions, and he carries himself like I would think the Dalai Lama would.  I was disappointed that I had missed this opportunity to shake his hand and say a few words.  When I got to my room, I noticed that I left my cooler with water bottles in the car and went right back to get them.  As I exited the lobby, heading to the garage, who do I spot right outside the hotel doors, posing for a picture was, lo and behold, my Dalai Lama.  I headed right towards the group, waited for their time with him to be over, and as he turned to walk away, I called his name.  He came towards me with a smile, and I gushed about reading his books, listening to his tapes, I blurted out that I was here to sign my book about journalling.  He told me that journalling was instrumental during his divorce, and that it got him through.  He asked me t he name of the book, and for my name, twice.  And I knew that was all I needed.  I wished him a good day.  He said “God bless,” and I returned the sentiment.  I thought, how amazing was that..just five minutes before, he was heading up the elevator, and in the time it took me to realize that I had to go back to get my bag (maybe two minutes), he was back downstairs.  That amount of time would not have let him do very much, except retrieve his hat?  But one can’t look too deeply into these kinds of incidents.  Just accept them and be grateful.

The weekend was filled with other memorable, serendipitous events.  One thing I will say, Baltimore has one kicking waterfront with a hopping crowd, free entertainment in the form of either “people watching,” or listening to the a capella groups that set up speakers and perform, or a magician doing some mad crazy stunt.  A great weekend all around.  More stories to come.

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