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