MyMangels.com

Pick-up Truck Man-gel

admin — Tue, 07 Sep 2010 17:50:36 +0000

Labor Day was picture perfect for riding a bike-so of course-it had to be done in a big way with my biking partner. Plus, we were preparing for a 150 mile charity ride. That gave us and extra dose of “mileage commitment ”. Starting off early in the morning, we had gotten about 35 miles in before a stiff head wind kicked up. What started as a cake walk of a ride turned into an all out effort just to make minuscule progress. To make matters worse, my rear tire was not absorbing rough spots in the pavement. Sure enough, I looked down and it was almost completely flat. Not certain I had enough CO2 cartridges to fully inflate a new tube, I just stopped as needed to add some gas hoping we would easily get back to our cars. The tire had other ideas, and began to deflate more quickly with each pit stop. Not even close to our final destination, we pulled over to a rural gas station and I began asking for a ride to the nearest bike shop.

Pick-ups or SUVs were the only vehicles that could house a bike, so I began to ask drivers of those type trucks for rides. Within minutes, pick-up owner George said he would certainly take us where we needed to go. My riding buddy wanted to get more distance in, so she planned to meet us at the bike store. Ten minutes later, pulling up to the back door, George let me out to see if they were open for business. Though the shop lights were on, a large handwritten sign informed me that the owners were ”sorry for the inconvenience, but we will be closed on Labor Day”. What next?
George didn’t make me feel at all uncomfortable for leading him on a wild goose chase. He asked how far away the car was, and wondered out loud whether we should wait for my partner or if we should go look for her. Unable to reach her on a cell phone, I asked if he would mind looking for her. Another four minutes into his Man-gel grade service, we spotted her. Rolling down the window, George let her know we were headed for the car. “Do you want us to pick you up here or…”
Before he could add a second option, she yelled back, “I’m so ready to be finished riding. Pick me up now.” Without flinching, he drove into an empty parking lot, pulled a dog crate out of the truck bed to make room for two bikes, and loaded a second two wheeler into his vehicle. “Maybe I should put a bike rack on this thing too”, George joked.

Driving to our car gave us time to establish his brother was actually someone who could benefit from medical research the upcoming charity ride was supporting. We vowed to make this sibling our team focus. George had sponsored a golf tournament for the same purpose just two days prior. Giving up at least an hour of his time, Man-gel George saved the day. He also gave us a living, breathing, confirmation of why we had signed to participate in the charity ride. What are the odds of that happening when you have randomly selected a truck from a gas station forty miles from home?

Driving to our destination was yet another adventure because we took bike trails to get around when possible, not streets, and definitely not interstates. Still maintaining an easy attitude, George plugged on despite confusion about how to get a truck were we needed to go. Only a few wrong turns later, our journey was completed.

Turning down offers to buy him lunch, or pay for gas, George unloaded our possessions taking only a handshake for thanks. It felt like George was literally an angel placed in our path to make a mechanical failure that could have taken half the day to solve a joyful experience. His tie-in to our charity ride was an amazing confirmation that he had not been placed in our path by accident.

When you live believing in Man-gels they are on duty for you every hour of every day, George being a case in point. I would not be surprised if someone told me he had clocked in on a “service to humanity” time clock, and was handed an assignment to come help us out! That’s how committed to serving us he was.

Here’s a big thank you to George for saving us, and for reminding me to look out for Man-gels everywhere.

New Mexico Man-gel

admin — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 14:48:20 +0000

One of my favorite spiritual homes is a place called Chimayo in New Mexico. A small adobe church resides there known for facilitating miracles. Almost two centuries old, the chapel is a site tens of thousands visit every year. During my own most recent visit, I noticed lots of construction taking place. Someone was really looking out for this beloved place
Walking into the sanctuary, I took a seat in the front row of pews. Suddenly, a man less than five feet tall began greeting everyone present. Approaching me, he asked if I lived close because I looked familiar. As our conversation continued, we moved out to an adobe wall beyond which several smaller shrines fit nicely between the church and a narrow river. His comments went something like this, “I salvaged this building. The whole back side was collapsing. Then we got to work on the grounds. Over fifty years I’ve spent working here. This place is so special. I am ninety two and still going strong.” Father Roca’s passion was palpable even when he wasn’t speaking. His love for Chimayo had been consistently put into action for over half a century with no signs of stopping.
The old adage “do what you love” came to mind. Roca’s vibrant energy was a living, breathing, testament to a life well lived. His mere presence was an inspiration. Despite the weirdness of reality TV, and negative nightly news, there are people who march to the beat of their own drummer. They are possessed with happiness and purpose. They light up communities without lecturing because their luminescence is an internal commodity radiating out from a core of sturdily aligned beliefs. They are man-gels (and woman-gels). Father Roca was my Man-gel that day gifting me with unadulterated joyful focus, and Chimayo may not be around at all if not for his tenacious devotion.

Trucker Man-gel

admin — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 12:51:22 +0000

Bike riders and motor vehicle drivers occasionally find themselves at odds with each other. Too much traffic and small to non-existent shoulders on roads make turf battles between those with two wheels, and those with more than two tires a sure thing. Pedaling down an unusually busy street today made me very aware that driver tug of war was ripe to use as an excuse for acting on pent up road rage. A sidewalk ran the length of my intended path, so I quickly adjusted course to make use of it.
I was safe until about fifty feet ahead a huge semi had pulled out so far readying to make a turn it was covering the very sidewalk necessary to keep me out of harm’s way. A jittery feeling invaded my stomach as I eyed alternatives to colliding with the truck No side streets to my right. Only a drainage trough buffered the space to my left. Panic was about to set in when I noticed the truck driver’s head turn in my direction. Seconds later, his truck lurched backward. Amazingly, the cab came to a halt well behind sidewalk boundaries.
Getting closer, an outline of the driver’s face became clear. I waved at the trucker man-gel for his kindness. Far from exhibiting road rage, trucker man-gel had saved me from an ugly collision or wipe out. His smile was visible through the cab’s window. Not only had he paved my way, he had done so with pleasure. Some people would have gotten out of the way begrudgingly. That’s what sets man-gels apart from the crowd. They enjoy making life easy for themselves and everyone they contact. Trucker man-gel broke all the rules frustrated drivers practiced, and that was a welcomed surprise.

Coffee House Man-gel, Coffee House Angel

admin — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 12:33:04 +0000

I’m lucky to have several cute coffee spots near my home. One in particular is a gathering place for neighborhood regulars. Coffee is just the start of temptation. Folks gather to chow down on tasty salads and sandwiches crafted from freshly baked bread. Friendly counter workers serve up tasty treats, and a lone table clearer keeps things ship shape.
Waiting for a meeting partner to show up gave me the perfect opportunity to people watch. I spied a private act of kindness so dear, it delights me still!
An elderly gentleman sidled up next to the table clearer, and gingerly slipped ten dollars into her towel draped hand. I was almost embarrassed that I had never thought of tipping her-but this man-gel did so without fanfare. Thank goodness my lunch date was late or I would have missed an incredibly sweet gesture during times when charity may not be the first thing on our minds.
My heartfelt thanks go out to the coffee house man-gel for allowing me to see a geed heart in action.

Flat Tire Man-Angel

admin — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 21:45:55 +0000

Singing Man-gel wasn’t around today as I completed my biking rounds, but flat tire Man-gel was. Temperatures were bearable, so it was easy to get a good pace going. At first, I buzzed right by a man walking his bike opposite my direction. My brain was slow in registering that something must have been wrong. Turning around, we met back. Back tire popped off its rim, another kindly biker was already assisting him. “Do you need any help”, I asked. “We can’t find the tire leak and our pump isn’t great”, Flat Tire Man-angel replied. “I’ve got one”, I responded, happy to be of assistance after missing the first opportunity.
Certain the pump was packed beneath my seat, you can imagine how surprised I was to find that it was missing. “Guys, my pump must have fallen off the bike. You are actually saving me. I never would have checked for that pump and could have gotten stranded. Trying to help both of you actually prevented me from a potential catastrophe. Thanks.”
“Thank you for stopping”. Flat tire Man-gel offered his sincere thanks. “No worries”, I countered. “Thank you for saving me ahead of time.”
Pedaling away, I was reminded of a favorite Ralph Waldo Emerson quote. It goes something like this, “It is one of the most beautiful compensations of this life that no person can sincerely help another without helping himself.” Flat tire Man-angel had reminded me of that truth, and warmed my heart on a plain old black top bike trail. Aren’t Man-angels amazing!

Music Man-angel 2nd edition

admin — Tue, 03 Aug 2010 04:33:49 +0000

My posts run in themes, and today’s is a continuation of the music man-angel theme. There is a park I love to bike ride near because of its beautiful lake and long winding paths. Popular with bikers and runners, there is rarely a shortage of role models to keep me coming back for the activity and gorgeous surroundings. Today was no exception.
A majority of lake side’s regular athletes listen to music as they trot or spin. I like to listen for the sounds of nature. Two quail had flown up in front of my bike just 24 hours prior. An ear piercing screech greeted me during this ride. No critter I had ever heard was a match for the intense yowl that interrupted my peaceful jaunt.
Within seconds, a very large man came into view pedaling toward me singing vintage George Michael at previously unmatched decibel levels. He was wearing a headset, oblivious to the sound of his own voice. That same voice penetrated the headphones and ear-buds of every person he passed.
Only a man-angel would have the guts to yodel his way around that shoreline. His antics brought a smile to every person that passed him. Singer man-angel made my day, and reminded me of how inspiring it is to experience someone so thoroughly enjoying themselves. Heck, tomorrow I might join him.

Music Man-gel

admin — Tue, 27 Jul 2010 23:22:13 +0000

Sunday was a crazy busy day capping off a non-stop week. I wondered what could recharge me before a 4 o’clock family party. “Jack! That’s it. Without a doubt, Jack’s music will charge me up”, the voice of my intuition chimed in. Immediately, a sense of calm settled over me as I left a voice message at his office requesting a quick concert. Jack had a talent for chanting and playing quartz bowls. The bowls are like giant crystal goblets. When played, you hear and feel the vibration of rich instrumental tones. Maybe the best way to describe their effect is a “musical message”.
Happily, he had a window of about an hour that afternoon. Jack generously offered to share his talents as long as a couple of other people showed up for the concert.
Arriving a few minutes early for my harmonic intervention gave me time to thank Jack for his kindness. While chatting, he informed me that several people were staying after the completion of an 1130 class at his center to listen in. Our “improv” session was a go. “I’m a bit tired, but I love you Marjorie”, Jack commented. “For you, I am happy to do this. I always think of my mom when I think of you.”
I shared his mother’s first and middle names which cemented our friendship. That afternoon , his comments alone nearly brought tears to my eyes. Not only had my friend made room in his own busy day, he had treated me like a treasured sister. A little blue box from Tiffany’s would not have been as dear. Music at that point was icing on the cake-all because of my long time friend, and music man-gel, Jack’s bighearted actions.
A day that had begun on the tense side had transformed into pure magic. Thank you Jack!

“Ex” man-gel, “ex” angel

admin — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 20:08:25 +0000

When you go through a divorce there isn’t just one “ex”, meaning “ex” husband, there are many. Technically there are “ex” father and mother, sister, and brother-in-laws at the very least. (By the way, is there a proper term for “ex” in laws?) This post is to honor my “ex” brother-in-law, but it feels awkward to label him with that term.
In the world of “exes” there are often quite messy relationship dynamics that are only exacerbated by the sheer numbers of “ex” in-laws. Thankfully, this has not been the case for me. My “ex” brother in-law has been instrumental in helping put a team together for my latest business adventure. His actions certainly constitute ladling him a man-gel, and here’s why:
“Ex-bro” began commenting on his wishes that his nieces and nephews do what they loved in life. Going for a career for prestige or money wouldn’t bring them happiness. Hearing that from him did my heart good because his statements aligned with my hopes and values. I nodded in agreement with his statements, adding that I was in the midst of some new projects myself. “Ex-bro” listened intently. Without space for a breath, as soon as I finished speaking, he interjected, “I can help you with that. E-mail me Monday and I will get you connected.”
There has never been any big negative drama between me and my “ex” in-laws. Having said that, there is a huge difference between being civil, and knowing they intend the best for you. “Ex-bro” made my day by going above and beyond usual and customary “ex-bro” duties. He also gave my kids another positive anchor in living through the aftermath of divorce. “Exes” of all sorts can collaborate. It’s good for the collaborators and it’s good for all the other people in their circle of influence-including sons and daughters, nieces and nephews.
Today, my mission is to send a big Thank You to my “ex-bro”, because though the term may be technically accurate, I still consider him a man-gel brother-in-law in good standing.

Traffic Man-gel

admin — Wed, 24 Mar 2010 01:34:52 +0000

Careening across two lanes of west bound traffic, I watched transfixed on the eastbound side as a large SUV drove perpendicular to the black topped road. Is he drunk, I immediately thought? Someone could get killed. Several people could get killed. What could he possibly be thinking?
From the parking lot, a grandmotherly figure was shaking her fist in the car’s general direction. Good for her, I thought. Somebody else sees how frightening this is. What a creep.
Seconds later, as the car made a u-turn back into the parking lot, a small child probably around two years of age was revealed walking back toward the older women. Instead of reprimanding a crazy driver, she was admonishing her grandchild for running into the street.
Suddenly, the picture I had evaluated with certainty turned upside down. A “careless” driver had actually risked putting his own car in harms way to protect the toddler. He had shielded a tiny child from east bound traffic while calling attention to the fact that something was really wrong for west bound drivers. Without using his car as a mechanical yellow flag, no one would have noticed the precious two foot tall wanderer until it was too late! Because of his gallant efforts, catastrophe had been averted.
The truck provided massive shielding and an unmistakable alarm system all wrapped up in one package thanks to a Good Samaritan driving man-gel.
There are very few times when I have been happier to be wrong about a first impression.
Thank you driving man-gel for being such a courageous role model protecting a pint sized stranger. You are a totem for what is right in this world, and someone who’s actions are worthy of a spot on prime time news.

Music Man-gel

admin — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 15:17:36 +0000

I had the distinct pleasure of attending a benefit for doctors without borders last night at the Sheldon Theatre. Having enjoyed music all my life, it came as a complete surprise that this night included possibly the most incredible line up of musicians I had ever experienced.
Sandwiched in between my desires to hear soprano Christine Brewer and jazz great Kim Massie, Peter Martin showed up and connected with every person in that hall including me.
This music man-gel brought a Steinway to life with unencumbered passion, and the audience could read his soul guided transmission. In fact, they couldn’t help but respond. Their insides had been ignited by a man who held nothing back in delivering a personal gift to each on them. Bewitching pauses and familiar tunes tucked within a boat load of Peter’s personalized musical love notes wove a palpable spell bent on herding all into an enchanted world of musical genius.
His connection to internal mastery unlocked listener’s unconscious longing to be awakened from the trance of mediocre expectations.
Is there any gift one person can give another greater than a reminder of what’s possible? To know how powerful our talents can be in changing thousands of minds at one time?

Thank you my dear music man-gel for the reminder.