The Last Judgment

“The quickest, most elegant way of finding the stillness is to let go of your judgments about others and yourself. This exercise will help do that. It’s like the introduction process, only you play from your seats.

“MA will you demonstrate?” IAM said. MA nodded.
IAM gave instructions. “Each of you will come up on stage. You get one minute to speak the main voice and any and all auxiliary voices that block the stillness. After one minute you will here a sound.” IAM pointed to the supervisors.
A bell sounded from the back table.

“Then you will finish that thought. Any neophytes who have a judgment about you or your sharing will stand. Any questions?”

“I don’t get it. How is this going to quiet my mind?” Alan said, one of the few who had not been to the Doctor’s classes. “I’ve been meditating for twenty years and five seconds of silence is amazing. I can’t see how this will do anything except make a lot more noise. This is a very simple minded attempt at something people work at their whole lives.”
“Thank you for sharing,” IAM said. “Anyone else?”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.” Shelly, the quiet girl from the Canby farm, said. “I’m scared I’ll say the wrong thing and people’ll hate me.”
“Shelly, who’s responsible for your feelings?” MA said.
“I am.”

The neophytes raised a collective fist in approval.

“We’re ready. We’ll start in the back and work row by row.”
“I’ll demo,” Ma said. “I have a voice that says I’m doing the devils work. A voice that says I should be teaching Sunday school and getting my life together with Jesus. “A voice that says I shouldn’t have friends that are gay. Another voice that tells me to go back to teaching social studies. I’m a klutz. Why bother to dance or exercise?
“I have a voice that says I’m better than you and one in duet that says I’m less than you. A voice that says there is not enough money and that I’ll always be poor. Sometimes I know AWE will never make enough to pay my bills, much less get what I want, and I don’t know what I want and even if I did, I couldn’t do anything about it cause I have those two kids and a womanizing husband.
“Voices that say AWE is the best thing going and we are making a difference, and this is the work the Lord put me here to do.
“Voices that say PA is the most lovable man in the world and that IAM is a blessing and that my clothes fit good and my teeth are crooked and I don’t know what to do with my hair.
“I got voices from rock n roll, TV shows, movies, and a jingle that says, ‘See the USA in a Chevrolet’.
“What are we suppose to do? What did we do? What we are going to do next.
"This isn’t working. Ah, shit. I got voices that got something to say about everyone and everything.”
The bell sounded and there was a moment of silence.

“Now those with judgments about MA or anything she said stand,” IAM said.
About ten people rose from their seats.
“MA will call on you. Say, I judge you for whatever the judgment is. Then MA will say, “Thank you I can use that.” Put those judgments out there so the Hoover in the sky can get rid of them.” IAM said.

Everyone’s judgments about each other unfolded all the fears, angers, doubt and sorrows that IAM call the FADS.

“Our judgments are keeping us from our stillness,” Joe said.
“I see everyone as a trainer. The collective unconsciousness holds us back, and let us go at the same time. We are wise fools. We believe what we judged. We judged others not from our being, but from our judgments. Judgments judging judgments.

We were miles from a direct experience of our self or others.” Shelly spoke encompassing the group mind.

In the back of the room, an assistant wrote the judgments on a flip chart. After all forty neophytes finished, the air was thick with judgments. But everyone seemed lighter.Then IAM said, “We’re going to take a ten minute silent break.”

The Oracle of Delphi & Daedalus

The bell rang calling the participants back into the room. MA was alone on stage. She seemed to be waiting a signal from the back table.

“We have special ancient trainers. From Delphi, the Oracle. And from Crete, Daedalus, the architect of the labyrinth of Minos.”
The room exploded in laughter as in walked Doctor B. and Doctor K., the producers and main enrollers of the Portland AWE. The two men were dressed as the ancient sages.
Doctor B. wore a long, black woman’s wig, a white short tunic and sandals. We could see the skinny Jewish doctor’s cleavage and erect nipples under the gossamer tunic. His beard, mustache and legs were shaved. As the Oracle, he carried scrolls and wore a crystal pendant.
Following him was Doctor K. His hair had been colored gray and styled to look like the busts of Caesar. He wore a toga, Birkenstocks, and carried a staff and scrolls as Daedalus.
Everyone knew the doctors. Doctor B’s mother and wife were participants. Doctor K’s ex-wife was a participant as were a half dozen of his girl friends. At least thirty Neophytes had taken the doctors classes or were their patients.


“Thank you for giving us a purpose to incarnate and be here now,” said Daedalus.
The Oracle took a posture with legs spread and eyes closed. His hands and head were upturned as if receiving something.


“I am Daedalus. I am here to reveal the ancient truths that IAM and MA wish unveiled. They deem you are ready to know who you are.”
The Oracle began to shake and shimmy. His hands came together in a gesture, like a charade for a book. The Oracle’s eyes opened and focused on the back of the room. “Know thy self!” His eyes closed as he moved hands back to the open, receiving position.
Everyone in the room waited for Doctor K to handle the straight line as Daedalus, but he stayed in character. He unrolled a scroll, and then he said, “Human beings are given all the abilities of the divine. Each one is blessed with sensors, feeler, perceivers, and communicators. All of us may know things without ever knowing how we know. The ancient scrolls are all within you.”
The Oracle quivered before shouting, “Be still.”


“The Oracle speaks only the truth. She channels the teachings and does not beat around the bush. She communicates what it is, but is short of the how-to’s.


“Being still is like our friend Diogenes, searching for an honest man. How can we find someone who is still, when we only see and look for actions? We must first find what is inside us, instead of looking for stillness. What are our voices? What do they say? What do we believe about the voices?”
The Oracle’s shimmying began again, looking like something from a Grateful Dead concert. His arms went overhead and shook for almost a minute. Then the Oracle took a deep breath and assumed a relaxed posture. His eyes moved around the room, looking with a soft knowingness at many neophytes.
Daedalus unfurled a scroll and turned it toward the audience. The scroll was blank. He said, “It’s time to fill in your scroll. It’s time to remember. To recall the events of your life and what you created. It is you who have created this life. Today with IAM and MA and all the neophytes in the room, you are given permission to tell the truth about those voices that block the stillness.”
Then Daedalus took the Oracle’s arm and led him Oracle out of the room.
Everyone applauded as IAM and MA resumed their places on stage.“They’ll be back later,” said IAM.

The Art of Hugging

“I think it’s a good time to learn hugs,” MA segued. She motioned to Vicki and Steve, to come up on stage.
MA and Steve hugged. Vicki and IAM hugged.
“Hugging is not groping,” MA said as she grabbed Steve’s ass.
“It’s not a plumbing check,” IAM said as he thrust his pelvis into Vicki.
“We have some different versions of hugs,” MA said.
They demonstrated the plumbing fear, side-to-side hug. The bear hug, which is a wrestlers hold leaving someone short of breath. The mixed message hug, which may include plumbing to plumbing, a tango dip, a tongue and a phone number.
“Here is our newest hug, the AWE aura hug.” IAM’s hand began to vibrate like a Pentecostal Minister. MA closed her eyes. “You caress the energy fields around the body.” He made an oscillating whooshing sound. “Add sound.” His vibrating hands outlined MA front, sides and back. Then, he clapped his hands at hug disengagement. “Her auras clean.” “You now have five minutes to hug as many people as you can.”
This was what everyone in the room wanted and needed.
Jules used IAM’s five words, “I find you sexually attractive,” on every one she hugged.
Ruth later said she wouldn’t mind hugging naked.
Art hugged MA, IAM, Steve, Vicki and Teresa, whom he decided he wouldn’t avoid, and his buddy Joe, who tried to slip him a tongue.
“Take a ten minute break. We have some guests coming,” Steve, the room supervisor, said.

Saturday Morning & No Cartoons

Saturday Morning
There were two late arrivals Saturday morning, and one who confessed to an aspirin.
“What do you remember from last night?” MA said.
Many more hands rose this morning. Art shared that he realized he made a choice that people liked him. He told his fishing story.

"When I was six years old my family lived in Hood River, Oregon. This was the summer before I started first grade. It was a most eventful summer. I learned about Indian giving, baseball, what happens to stray dogs, television, friends and a lesson in fishing that became a story I’ve told thishundreds of times.
"It was a hot dry day. As I walked to the irrigation pond to practice fishing the sound of crackling pine needles accentuated each step. I was going to fish, or actually practice fishing, for this body of water was an irrigation pond. I knew fish did not live in here, but my sense of fishing was tie on a hook, or have someone else do it, stick on a worm , cast and wait., I loved to cast, but waiting was the hard part. I was sitting very zen-like when Andy an older neighborhood kid showed up. He looked like Alfalfa from the Our Gang series, with red hair and a spiked cow-lick. He was wearing blue coveralls and he was barefoot.
“Hey whatcha doin?” He asked.
“Fishin.” I said.
“Well come here, I’ve got something to tell ya. It’s a secret.”
"I started to pull out my line when he said. "
“No leave that there. Hurry.”
He led me behind a barn away from where I could see the pond or my line.
Something felt fishy as I listened.
“Uh, have you seen that new science fiction show on TV? It’s so neat.”
“Yea.” I said with great enthusiasm. “I love it.”
“Well don’t tell anyone about it, OK?”
The fishiness had now become a school of confused fish.
He turned and walked back to the pond and two other older kids and one younger kid. Joe, Billy and young Bobby.
“Don’tcha think you should reel in your line,” one of them said.
"I don’t ever remember kids paying that much attention to me, but with a bit of embarrassment I reeled. There was a fish on. I felt it as I reeled in.
"I had a fish on. A six incher. I think I beamed a very broad smile. And, I knew, the kids had put the fish on the hook.
"I they liked me. They wanted me to catch a fish. It was a gift. It wasn’t a trick, but it was. They may have been fishing for my soul, because that is what I caught that day. My conscience was fed then. I knew people liked me. I wasn’t too sure up to that point."

Others shared:

“I realized I couldn’t lie when looking in someone’s eyes,” Michael said.
“Unless I ask, how can I get what I want?” Brenda, a washed-out mom, said.
“There’s a giant vacuum in the sky that wants to suck up all our negativity and limiting beliefs. I have a lot in need of sucking.” Winnie said in one of her shortest sharings. *
“MA told a good night story about the Golden Ball that showed up in my dream. I was small and excited about starting school. I knew there was something wonderful that I was going to learn. I had a ball I was going to take it to school so we all could play.
“IAM, you were in my dream as a kid. I knew it was you because you dressed the same in those large collared shirts. I put the ball under my arm and was going to take it to school. My dad said, ‘You can’t take the ball. There are kids who don’t have a ball and you don’t want to be different.’ Chuck, a myopic overweight thirty year old seemed to sleep at times in the room. But now tears seem to form on his cheeks as others raised a hand for a tissue. “I was crushed. I never felt special.”
IAM walked to Chuck’s side of the room, and gave Chuck a deep and reverent look.
“Chuck, today you can recreate your self and get back the Golden Ball.” “You’ll probably even find a bunch of other kids to play with.” MA said.
Ruth, a chiropractor who looked older than her years, spoke sounding like a nervous Auntie Em. Ruth looked like Art’s Nana.
“IAM, if all there is, is love, how are we going to keep from getting diseases? I mean, all this love means we will all sleep together and what’ll stop the sexually transmitted diseases?”
The Neophyte’s attention grew. The room changed from Chuck’s sadness to keen interest.
“What belief would someone have to have to think we’d all have sex with each other?” MA said.
Joe, the carpenter, raised his hand. “I don’t want to sleep with everyone. Just some of the women.”
The almost everyone in the room laughed.

Art sensed the room as an entity, it grew hot and cold as a barometer of feelings. The room held its own identity, a synergy of feelings everyone especially the trainers from years of experience, could read.
Jules, an earth momma, whom Art knew had slept with most of the men and some of the women said, “Ruth do you want to have sex with everyone?”
“Uh, yes, I guess I do.” Ruth spoke in a voice we’d never heard before.
The room focused on IAM.
“Now, you want the truth about sex.” IAM paused as the room’s attention trained at him.
“Well, the truth is everyone does it, did it, will do it. We all do it different, or similar. It’s not a competition, it’s fun. The truth part about sex is to get on or off it. If I’m attracted to someone I say it. ‘I’m sexually attracted to you’, and offer it up to the Hoover in the sky. Sex is not about obsessing and AWE is not about getting laid. Sex has chemistry and not everyone’s chemistry matches.”
Ruth sat down with a newfound grin.

The Golden Ball

Art found a private balcony. He smoked in great deep full breaths and stared into the night toward the Memorial Coliseum.

“Can I have a hit of that?”

It was Teresa.
“Sure.”
“I don’t smoke cigarettes,” Teresa said.
“Neither do I.”

The one-minute bell rang. Everyone headed for the door.
The chairs were gone and everyone sat on the carpeted floor facing MA, who sat on the edge of the stage.

MA told the fairy tale of the Golden Ball and then a strange story.

“We have studied some material from Doctor Gregory Bates, a biologist, on the habits of frogs. The Doctor built a frog pond and invited many frogs to live on his lily pads amongst reeds and grasses. The frogs liked the artificial pond and did fine. Dr Bates wondered what would happen if when winter came he heated the water. He was in Illinois. So he applied a heating coil and warmed the water to keep it from freezing. Usually frogs hibernate, but by heating the water, the frogs flourished doing froggy things all winter. One day the doctor went to work at his lab and left the heating coil on. The water got warmer and warmer ‘til it almost boiled. What do you think happened?”
“The frogs jumped out.”
“Everyone agree? Anyone think any different?” MA said.
“No.”
“Well, when the Doctor came home, the frogs were still in the pond. None of the frogs jumped out. Because he feared killing his frogs, Doctor Bates wanted the frogs out in a hurry, so he grabbed a two by four and whacked the pond. All the frogs leapt out to safety.

“Go home now and have lucid dreams. See you back at eight am and we’ll continue our study of frogs,” MA said.

It's Your Life. We Only Serve What You Order.

MA spoke as IAM returned to the stage.

“In the universe of having what you want, you need to place your order. We have a skit to demonstrate.”

The assistants segued and set up a table and chair in café fashion on stage. They added a red-checkered tablecloth, a rose in vase, and a water glass.

IAM sat, and Vicki, an attractive female assistant in a short skirt, strutted to the table, smiling.
“Hi, I’m Vicki, your waitress. May I take your order, sir?”
“Hello.” IAM looked her over like she was on

the menu. “Yes, can I see a menu?”

“Yes, sir.” She handed him a sheet of paper where in large letters were printed,

“It’s Your Life Café. We only serve what you order. Order with care. What you ask for is what you get.”
“What’s this small print?”
“Oh, that’s our disclaimer. It says you also get what you resist. We don’t serve that, but that’s what most people get.”
“Well, I want more money?””How much money, sir?”
“I need enough to pay my bills and get a new car, a Jag. I want a trip,
new clothes and I want to pay the staff more.”
There was a roar from the table in the back of the room. Fists were
raised in support from the assistants.
“How much would that be sir?”
“One hundred thousand a year to start.”
Vicki wrote that down.
“Anything else, sir?””Yes, I’ll have three new friends, a room full of love and acceptance, some
challenges, lots of hugs, oh, and insights and realizations. And I’ll buy a round of self-love for everyone.”
“Will that be all?”“Yes. Let’s start with menus for everyone,” IAM said.

“Thank you Vicki.” She bowed and the assistants removed the table and passed menus to everyone.

Life Works Whe you Keep your Agreements

Art was in his seat ready to work as AWE began Friday night.

For some of the neophytes, being late was the first lesson to process. The door closed at seven o’clock. A large assistant stood guard at the door and asked the stragglers, “Did you make an agreement to be on time?”

"The traffic was bad.”
“My husband was late getting the kids.”
“Your clock is fast.”
“Hey, I’m late. Let me in.”

The guard kept asking the same question until the neophyte’s excuses stopped and answered, “Yes.”

Then he asked, “Who’s responsible for keeping your agreements?”

“I didn’t hear the bell.”
“Stop being weird.”
The guard continued until the participant said, “I am.”
“Are you willing to make a new agreement?”

For some people this was half their transformational experience. Showing up on time might allow their lives to work.

“Yes.” Each one relented and the guard let that person in the room.

The guard repeated the same question. This process was the dreaded “door” confrontations.
While the door confrontations continued, IAM and MA entered from the back in a flourish. IAM wore a blue blazer and open collared disco shirt. MA wore a turquoise silk dress. They beamed with excitement as they surveyed the room.

MA spoke first. “We have some people who are late. They are learning we have a procedure for broken agreements. Did anyone else break an agreement?”

There was silence.

“Did anyone smoke a joint or have a drink?”

Two people stood.

The elderly Jewish lady, Evelyn, blurted, “I always have a glass of sherry before going to bed. Been doing it for forty years. Helps me sleep. My husband, God rest his soul, started me on that the first year we were married. Now I am a widow. Been a widow for ten years. Harold was a dentist.”

There was laughter.

“Did you make an agreement to abstain from drinking until the experience was over?” MA said.
"Oh, yeah. I didn’t think it mattered. I’m so sorry. It’s not like I’m a drunk.”
“Evelyn, do you want to make a new agreement?”
"Yes. I can do that.”
“Let’s see what happens. You may have a new experience of Evelyn.” IAM said.
Others stood. A chiropractor took an aspirin for neck inflammation.

Michael took one hit on his bong.

Mary Ann, excited about the experience, told her roommate about a sharing and broke the confidentiality agreement.

The late people had to join those standing as MA asked them all to make new agreements. “We have time for sharing. What did you learn yesterday? Any insights or dreams?” IAM said.
The energy in the room changed.

The heaviness of broken agreements was replaced with the excitement of realizations.

The group remembered they were there to heal and transform their lives.

They remembered they were going to travel back to the ancient wise ones and gather tools to uncover their truths.

One person had a dream of opening a closet and finding a twin.

A haggard looking woman with three children said, “ At breakfast my teenage son said he loved me.”

The analytical ones restated that agreements make life work, the hand signals, the bedtime story, the introductions, the fish bowl story of how everyone is connected.

Karla stood. “This is shit.

"Not horseshit or good-for-you-bullshit, but you-can-kiss-my-ass-with-your-fantasy-of-love shit.” Karla, prim in creased jeans and glasses had said during introductions that her therapist made her attend. She didn’t look at anyone and stomped her foot. She took a fighting stance. She spoke soft and fast while shaking her head no.

IAM moved toward her. “Karla, what do you want?”

“I want this love fest to stop. I want an end to this airy-fairy dream shit. This door guarding is shit. People always break rules.”

“Karla, I hear what you don’t want. What do you want?” IAM moved off the stage to walk among the participants.

“I want my money’s worth. I want to get to work and experience my life.”

“So do I,” IAM said.

Karla sat down, her face flush, arms and legs crossed, looking to the side of the room

New Age Introductions

“It’s time to get to know everyone. We want each of you to come up on stage and introduce yourself. We want you to answer six questions.

"One, your name, if you forget, it’s on your nametag.

"Two, what you want to be called?

"Three, what you do to earn money?

"Four, how you got here?

"Five, what you want from AWE.

"And six, who in the room you would avoid? I’ll write the questions on the board,” MA said in a well timed segue.

“Now there are a couple of ways to do this. I’ll demonstrate how not too.”

IAM crossed his arms over his chest, stared at his feet and began fidgeting from side to side. He spoke in a hushed tone while holding his breath and speaking very fast.

“My name is IAM Talisman. Don’t call on me. I’m broke. A bus. Money and a girl friend.”

“IAM will you uncross your arms, look up and standstill,” said MA.

IAM exaggerated all MA’s commands. He became a robot staring toward the ceiling.

“Relax and breathe. Speak slower so we can understand you. And if you need help, the questions are on the board,” MA said.

IAM took a deep breath, shook his arms to his side and looked out over the participants, then at the questions on the board. “My name is IAM Talisman. Call me IAM. I’m a self-employed human potential trainer. Dr. B drove me here. I want everyone to get what he or she wrote down on the training application. I want to make three lifelong friends. And, I want more energy.” He looked around the room at all the faces, and then toward MA.

“IAM, who would you avoid?”

“I avoided the question. Let’s see?” He looked around the room again.

“In the back. I can’t see your nametag. Michael.”

So started 46 hours of a non-stop, everything-one-could-ever-ask for and things-no-one-realized-you-could-ask-for experience.

“My name is Art Deco. Call me Art. I sell pounds. By Toyota pick-up. I want to love myself. I’d avoid Teresa.”

Art thought he’d told the group he sold pot. It was his scariest truth. Only
IAM, MA and Art’s buddy Joe knew pounds of what. Art had laid it all on the line, and his ego died, the transformation began.

Art went home alone, shaking.

Experience not story

MA and IAM read a list of agreements concerning time, confidentially, hand signals, bathroom breaks, and non-prescription drugs. All the rules were designed to keep everyone in their own experience, on time, supportive and willing to agree.

During the rules a pattern developed. Whichever participant had a ‘wobble’, something out of agreement or not in integrity with the group, they would rise to the surface like a bubble and tell their story.
“The course is the Ancient Wisdom Experience, not the Ancient Wisdom Stories. What is the difference between an experience and a story?” IAM said.
Hands went up. IAM called on each one.
“A story is made up.”
“An experience is something that happens to me.”
“Someone else tells a story. I have an experience.”
“A story is how I justify my experience.”
“Well, my experience can be both a story and an experience. Like, you know, how it is when you meet someone and they lay a trip on you?”
“When who meets someone?” MA said.
“Huh?”
“In the rules, we agreed to speak from I, not you,” asserted MA. There was some laughter.
"Oh yea, I get it. An experience is what I feel, and a story is what I make up about it.”
IAM moved forward on the stage and made eye or telepathic contact with the AWE staff sitting in the back of the room. IAM became animated, more vivid. “How many of you have eaten ice cream?”
Most of the hands in the room went up.
"How many of you have sky dived?”

MA, an assistant, and two participants raised their hands.

“What can any of you say about sky diving?”
A neophyte’s hand went up. “It’s like flying. It’s so cool and so scary. I couldn’t believe I did it.”
MA stepped beside IAM. “It’s beyond words.”

“And so is experience.” IAM walked to the small round cocktail table on stage that held a fishbowl, a kinetic sculpture, and a blue dictionary that he picked up, and read aloud.
“Funk & Wagnall Standard College Dictionary… an experience is observable and or is a personal involvement. It happens in present time. A verb.”

“So are my stories or history or memories unimportant?” said the Jewish naturopath.

“Let’s have an experience and find out,” IAM said. He clasped his hands together like old time boxing champions and looked to MA and the chalkboard on stage.

Art Deco Meets the Ancient Wisdom Experience

“We trainers will do some lecturing, and create an individual and group process to experience value clarification, choice recognition, goal setting, and visualizations. We will create activities to stimulate self-exploration and personal growth. The accent is on healing limits through humor, sensitivity and play, not confrontation and pain.

“AWE is a spiritual experience. It is spirit that allows us to become vulnerable enough to transcend our limits and aim for what seems impossible.

"AWE allows risks and mistakes in expressing what is true for you without alienating others. We create levels of self-esteem that allow you to fully enjoy the present.”

“Are you ready to play?” IAM and MA said in unison.

“Yes” everyone shouted.

“Like life, we need agreements,” MA said. “Your ability to keep your agreements is in direct relationship to your ability to succeed in life.”

AWE Introduction

“The next four days you will be guided on a safe tour through the unfinished business in your life. You will find areas that prevent you from having totally loving relationships with yourself and others. You’ll obtain effective communication tools and use them in games and skits that we orchestra so you can experience your life and enjoy the adventure of releasing the past. You’ll let go of limiting doubts and fears and begin to create your future,” IAM said.

“AWE is the most entertaining seminar in the human potential movement.

"You are encouraged to discover your innate potential in an environment of support and honest communication, tempered with wit and laughter. AWE is not therapy or indoctrination. You will only encounter yourselves, your abilities and beliefs, both conscious and unconscious."

Art Deco Meets the Ancient Wisdom Experience

Chang Tzu

“Welcome to The Ancient Wisdom Experience.”
The motel in northeast Portland was packed with forty soon-to-be neophytes of the four day Ancient Wisdom Experience.

There were psychologists, naturopaths, chiropractors, masseuses, a retired Brooklyn Jewish woman, an ex-call girl, a lot of good lookers who got even better looking by Sunday, three carpenters, a milkmaid, some artists, counselors, some wives and soon to be ex-wives, an Aikido master, many who could not speak in front of a group, some who became stand-up comics to the group, spiritual flytraps, distractors, pleasers, an analyzer, vegans, a virgin, a couple of smokers, some with little money, and some who were there as a gift.

Everyone stared at IAM Talisman from San Francisco, California, and MA, his female co-trainer. Attendee’s paid $375 for two long evenings and two full days of techniques to transform there lives using ancient practices and new age psychology.

The goal was to uncover, recover or create wisdom from within and bring peace to the planet.

It was the fall of 1981.