o southern California--I was thrilled. I
had an intuitive grasp on how to wield the ad hoc power, but I did not
grasp that it was the power which was actually wielding me.

Meanwhile, Atmananda had added "money collector" to the growing list of
my responsibilities. This task, he cautioned, was not without its
dangers. "Money is physically dirty," he said, as though telling me a
secret. "It also retains and transmits the greed of its handlers.
Always wash your hands after you touch it." But he did not always ask
me to collect it directly.

In 1981, he asked me to inspire Richard, a tall, large-hearted disciple
who owned a raquet-stringing shop in La Jolla. Richard, who appeared
to love Guru even more than he loved tennis, was on the verge of
purchasing a million-dollar house, which he planned to rent to the
Centre at a bargain rate.

"How's your game coming along?" I asked him.

"Oh, not too bad I suppose."

"Are you ready to play against Guru?"

"Guru is not going to want to play tennis with me."

"Sure he is. Only if I were you, I'd let him win every so often."

We laughed.

"How's the deal going?" I asked.

His gaiety suddenly vanished. "It almost went through," he said. "But
someone pulled out at the last minute... again."

"Oh well," I tried. "Maybe there's someone else who could help."

No response.

"Wouldn't it be great," I continued, "to have the Centre across the
street from UCSD? Parking sure wouldn't be a problem anymore. And
picture a meditation room overlooking the ocean--a meditation room
large enough to hold everyone."

He nodded.

"Imagine Guru coming to San Diego and visiting us at the new Centre!"

"That would be nice," he admitted.

"Remember Richard," I added, working in a quote from Atmananda,
"whatever you really want you will get."

"You're right," he said resolutely. "I'll just keep trying."

After several more setbacks the deal went through, and Atmananda, Dana,
Anne, Tammy, and I moved in. Atmananda occasionally paced the carpets
of the new Centre, improvising a song from Fiddler On The Roof in which
pious dairyman Tevya aspires for a little wealth from God.

"If I were a realized soul!" Atmananda began. "Ahhh yaahtuh daahtuh
daahtuh yaahtuh daahtuh daahtuh daahtuh duhm. All day long I'd bittih
bittih buhm. If I were a realized soul! Ahhh wouldn't have to work
hard... "

Once at the new Centre, Atmananda recited for me the money mantra.

"Ya devi