Sunday, February 26, 2017

How to Receive Greater Wealth

Zero Limits 10 :How to Receive Greater Wealth

I am the “I.”

Owau no ka “I.”

My next seminar with Dr. Hew Len was 
different from the first.While the message was 
still about cleaning and erasing programs or 
memories, his approach was even more relaxed 
and off-the-cuff. He began by holding up a base
-ball and asking what the point of the game was.

“To hit a home run,” someone said.

“To win,” said another.

“To keep your eye on the ball,” I said.

“Exactly!” Dr. Hew Len responded, in his thick 
Hawaiian accent.“To win or hit a home run, you 
must keep your eye on the ball at all times. But 
what is the baseball in your life?”

Everyone was silent.

“Your breathing,” someone said.

“This moment,” someone else said.

Dr. Hew Len could see we weren’t getting the 
point, so he offered an answer: “The baseball is 
Divinity,” he said. “You must stay focused on 
going back to zero. No memories. No programs. 

Cleaning. Cleaning. Cleaning.

All you’re here to do is clean or not clean.You 
can choose all you like, but you don’t decide if 
you get it or not. You trust Divinity to do what’s 
right for you.Would you know better than 
Divinity? Hardly. Let go.

Clean. Clean. Clean.

“My intention is to be in alignment with the 
Divine’s intention,” I told Dr. Hew Len.

“Good for you, Joseph.”

Intentions are limitations.You decide you want a 
front-row parking place.You intend it. But 
Divinity gives you a parking place a mile away.
Why? Because you need to walk more. Let go.

Clean. Clean. Clean.

I spend two more days with Dr. Hew Len.
Thirteen people are in the room.The whole focus 
is on how problems occur.

“You’ll always have problems,” he declares. I 
resist that statement but write it down anyway. 
Clean. Clean. Clean.

“Problems are memories replaying,” he says.
“Memories are programs.They aren’t just yours.
They are shared.The way to release the memory 
is to send love to the Divinity. Divinity hears and 
responds, but in the way best for all, at the time 
right for all.You choose but you don’t decide. 
Divinity decides.”

I didn’t understand. Clean. Clean. Clean.

Marvin, a happy, broadly smiling fellow from the 
Philippines, gets up and explains that he sells 
$150 million worth of luxury cars a year by not 
trying to sell anything to anyone.All he does is 

“All I do is say ‘I love you’ all day long,” he 
explains in his accented English.“I clean as I 
listen to people. All I do is clean, clean, clean.
Always cleaning.”

“You don’t intend anything at all?” I asked, 
skeptical. I figure he’s at least intending to sell 
cars, since that’s his job.

“Never,” he replies. “No expectations. I just show 
up to work and clean.”

Clean. Clean. Clean.

I spent two days hearing stories about cleaning by 
average people like you and me. But it’s all so 
hard to accept. Just clean and say “I love you” 
and the world changes? You sell more cars? You 
make more money? Huh?

“You are totally responsible for all of it,” says Dr. 
Hew Len.“It’s all in you. All of it. No exceptions.
You have to clean on it or it doesn’t get cleaned.”

Clean on terrorism?

Clean. Clean. Clean.

Clean on the economy?

Clean. Clean. Clean.

Clean on—(fill in the blank)?

Clean. Clean. Clean.

“If it’s in your experience, it’s up to you to clean,” 
says Dr. Hew Len.

When I take a break and call home to see how 
Nerissa and our pets are doing, Nerissa stuns me 
by saying she spent the day making a surprise for 
me. She had a long to-do list. Making anything 
for me didn’t seem likely.

“What is it?” I ask.

“A major surprise.”

“Tell me.”

“You’ll never guess in a million years,” she says.

“Don’t make me guess. I don’t have a million 

Before I tell you what she said, let me back up a 
second. Nerissa has been stressed because of so 
many projects on her plate. She can’t keep up. 
She’s working on a video for me, and another for 
a client. She created software she wants to 
promote. She also has the critters and the house 
to tend to while I’m away. She barely has time to 
plan her day, let alone work on her many projects. 
So imagine my surprise when she told me the 

“I took apart your closet and rebuilt it.”

Clean. Clean. Clean.

I’m stunned. Cleaning my closet was not on her 
to-do list or even on mine.

“I took down all your clothes, took down the 
shelves, built new shelves, rehung your clothes, 
put your piled-up clothes on hangers, and 
rearranged the clothes that were on the floor.”

This is as shocking to me as if she had left a 
check for me made out for, say, five million dollars.

This was unbelievable.

“What made you do all this?” I asked.

“I’ve wanted to do it for a while now,” she replied.

She wanted to do it? Maybe so. But she had no 
time.This came out of the blue.

Dr. Hew Len says when you clear memories, 
what comes through is inspiration. Nerissa was 
apparently inspired to clean my closet. It’s a
metaphor and proof that inner cleaning leads to 
outer results.

You can’t intend what the outer results will be.

Again, you can choose but you can’t decide.

Later, in Dr. Hew Len’s motel room, he and I sit 
like master and disciple. The only thing is, he 
treats me like the master.

“Joseph, you are one of God’s original 10.”

“I am?”

I’m flattered but admit I have no idea what he is 
talking about.

“You came here to help awaken the Divine in 
people,” he explains.“Your writing is hypnotic. 
It is your gift. But there’s more.”


Clean. Clean. Clean.

“You are the J man for business,” he says. “Do 
you know what that is?”

I don’t have a clue and tell him so.

“You are the Jesus of business,” he says, “the 
point man for change."

As he speaks, I’m thinking I’d better keep this 
conversation to myself. No one will ever believe 
it. I don’t.

Clean. Clean. Clean.

“When I was with Morrnah,” he says, reflecting 
on his years with the kahuna who taught him the 
updated form of Ho’oponopono he teaches today, 
“I thought she was crazy for the first five years. 
But then one day that thought was gone.”

Dr. Hew Len’s style is rambling, poetic, and 
visionary. He seems to use the right and left sides 
of his brain at the same time, while the rest of us 
lean on one or the other side. He goes from telling 
me I’m the savior of business to telling me about 
Morrnah. In its own way, it’s hypnotic. I’m 
riveted. I want more.

“There’s a wreath around your head, Joseph,” he 
says, seeing something I don’t see or feel.“It’s 
made of money symbols, like eagles.”

For some reason I feel an urge to show him a ring 
I wear. It’s a solid gold ring, 2,500 years old, 
from ancient Rome. He holds out his hand and I 
lay it on his palm.

“The word on the ring is Latin,” I explain.
“Fidem means faith.”

Dr. Hew Len is silent as he holds the ring. He 
seems to be receiving images or impressions. I’m 
quiet while he seems to be tuning in to the ring 

“You were a great orator in a past life,” he says. 
“But you were mobbed and murdered.This ring is 
healing that memory for you.”

That’s interesting. I often had flashes of being a 
legendary orator in the past, but I feared public 
speaking today because I was killed in the past 
after speaking. I thought it was an ego-designed 
memory, not a past life. Somehow Dr. Hew Len 
picked up on the memory by holding my ring.

“I rarely wear it,” I confess.

“Wear it,” he says.“Always.”

He stares at the ring.

“This is amazing,” he says.“This ring was worn 
by a healer who knew the value of ‘Know thyself.’”

I’m fascinated. Dr. Hew Len has the aura of a 
calm sea in a storm of reality.While the world 
swirls about, he seems still. He speaks his heart, 
accepting whatever comes and whatever is said. 
He stares at me and looks at my feet.

“Joseph, my God, I should be sitting at your feet,” 
he says, genuinely moved by whatever he sees in 
me.“You are as gods.”

Clean. Clean. Clean.

“We’re just here to clean,” he reminds me and 
everyone else during our weekend training.
“Clean always, incessantly, to clean all memories 
so Divine can inspire us to do what we came here 
to do.”

Clean. Clean. Clean.

During the training I realize I had cleaned on one 
of my books and not on another. I had spent time 
loving The Attractor Factor, which became a 
number one best seller. But I didn’t spend much 
time loving one of my other books, There’s a 
Customer Born Every Minute, which didn’t sell 
as well. I realize this with a bolt of energy up my 
spine. This is why it hadn’t done as well as my 
other books.

When I attended the first training I learned I 
could use the eraser end of a pencil to help clean. 
I would tap the item with the eraser.That’s it. It’s 
a symbol if not a fact of cleaning memories. I set
out a copy of my new book at the time, Life’s 
Missing Instruction Manual, and put the pencil 
on it. Every day for months I tapped on it.
Whenever I walked by it, I paused, picked up the 
pencil, and tapped the eraser end on the book. 
Call it nuts. But it was a psychological trigger to 
help me clean any memories surrounding the 
book. Well,that book became an instant best 
seller and stayed number one for four days. 
Major companies bought thousands of copies. 
Wal-Mart stocked it. Woman’s Day magazine 
featured it.

But I hadn’t done any cleaning on There’s a 
Customer Born Every Minute.The book came out. 
It went close to the best-seller list but didn’t hit 
the top 10. I also orchestrated a major publicity 
stunt to help bring attention to the book. It got 
some attention but no immediate sales. I told Dr. 
Hew Len about this.

“Dunk the book in your mind in a glass of water 
with fruit in it,” he advised.“I know it’s crazy. 
But mark today’s date, dunk book in water, and 
see what happens.”

He also surprised me by asking about Oprah.

“You want to go on her show?”

I stammered that I would love to at some point. 
At that time I hadn’t yet been on the Larry King 
Live show, so Oprah’s show seemed like quite a 

“You have to be clean so you don’t choke,” he advised.

Clean. Clean. Clean.

“Two authors went on and choked,” he explained.

“I don’t want that,” I said.

“When you go on Oprah, it will be for her 
reasons, not yours,” he said.

“That sounds profound,” I commented.

“You have to give up the idea that people do 
things for you. They do things for themselves. All 
you have to do is clean.”

Clean. Clean. Clean.

Before I left Dr. Hew Len on this trip, I again 
asked him about his years as staff psychologist 
at the hospital for the mentally ill criminals.

“I want you to be clear about something,” he told 
me.“It wasn’t easy and I didn’t do it alone.”

I left wanting to know more. Much more.

Clean. Clean. Clean.

It appears that everyone who does Ho’oponopono 
has a rather hypnotic story to tell. For example:

Dear Dr. Hew Len,

I attended the Ho’oponopono gathering in 
Philadelphia recently. I want to thank you deeply 
and humbly from a melting heart for reminding 
me of the way Home. I am eternally grateful to 
the Divine, to you, and to all the children who 
help you do this work of teaching.

What follows is a testimonial of sorts in response 
to the workshop. It is a sharing for those who 
might wonder about the power of Ho’oponopono. 
If it would be helpful to share, please do.If not of
interest, discard and may my gratitude to all be 

Deep heartfelt thanks to you all.

May God grant you all peace, wisdom, health, 
and a long life in which to clean and come Home.
Much, much love and blessings,

Dana Hayne

Testimonial of Philadelphia Ho’oponopono 

Dr. Hew Len began the workshop with a lecture 
and drawings. He laid out the cosmology of 
Ho’oponopono. He asked us,“Who are you? Do 
you know?”Together we explored the incredible, 
eternal, limitless, total, complete, empty, zero 
reality of our true Selves from which all peace
emanates.“Home” he called it.We then explored 
with him the nature of “What is a problem?”
“Have you ever noticed,” he asked,“that 
wherever there is a problem, you are there? Does 
that tell you anything?” Like old Socrates, he 
engaged us in the process, coaxing questions and 
answers. Little did I know that Dr. Hew Len was 
deftly exhuming these hidden memories and 
judgments for cleaning and transformation.

Caught in the net, I raised my hand, asked 
questions, and made comments. However, as the 
days went by, it began to feel to me as though 
every time I asked Dr. Hew Len a question, he 
put me down. I felt “dissed.” Each answer 
burned me and I felt publicly shamed and

By Sunday morning, I was so angry with Dr. 
Hew Len I wanted to leave. I judged him as 
arrogant, controlling, and dominating. I sat
there stewing, angry, ready to cry.

I was so angry, I wanted to leave. Unsure 
whether I was going to bail or not, I did get up 
and go to the bathroom, afraid I would start 
crying right there in the meeting room. I sat in 
one of those ammonia-filled stalls and felt the 
rage, which my anger had now become. Oh, I
felt such murderous rage. Some part of me 
didn’t want to let go of that rage. But something 
else kept prompting me to keep saying,“Forgive
me. Forgive me.And I love you.”

I kept saying this over and over to the rage.
And then I realized that this was not a new 
feeling, that I had felt this same rage percolate
and disguise itself as a slow burn in the back-
ground of my consciousness before—whenever 
my husband would put me down or whenever 
(and always) my lawyer mother had insisted on 
being right.And, oh, she was one whose words 
could make black look white, confusing the 
innocent heart of this child.

And then I understood. I “got it.”Aha! This is it! 
This is some ancient memory, the beam in my 
eye, the beam I thrust into others’ hearts.This is 
the sword of memory that I carry in my heart 
and drag into my “now” and slay others with—
Dr. Hew Len, my mother, my husband, Bush, 
Saddam Hussein, whomever I can accuse and 
slay out there.This is what Dr. Hew Len is 
talking about, the continual loop of tape that 
keeps playing over and over again.

I did not leave. I went back into the conference 
room, and experienced a deep calm the rest of 
the day. I kept silently saying in my head,“I’m 
sorry. Please forgive me.Thank you. I love you.
”When Dr. Hew Len answered questions after 
that, I felt only love from him, none of the 
previous emotions. He hadn’t changed at all. 
Something in me had.

Some time after I returned to the room, Dr. Hew 
Len shared a personal experience about his own 
introduction to Ho’oponopono. He had bailed the 
course, not once, but three times, each time 
thinking that the instructor was “crazy” and each 
time forfeiting the cost of the workshop. Did he 
know what I was thinking? Did he know that I 
had also almost just left because I thought he was 

During the next break, I cautiously approached 
Dr. Hew Len.Very lovingly, he explained that the 
ancient, oft-repeated memory of male dominance 
had raised its head. He explained that this was a 
memory common to many and needed great 
persistence and diligence to heal. It would not be 
until I returned home that I would begin to 
understand the depth of healing that had occurred 
for me at the workshop.

Throughout the weekend, Dr. Hew Len gave us 
tools for transformation, tools that totally defy 
intellectualism. Not expecting results, I dutifully 
but skeptically held my pencil, said “Dewdrop,” 
and tapped the three words that I had written on 
a sheet of paper, words that for me represented 
problems—“computer,”“son,” and “husband.”
Again, I wouldn’t know the power of these words 
until I got home.

When I got home, my husband and son greeted 
me. Both grinning,they said,“Guess what we got 
while you were out.”“A new computer?” I 
guessed.We had been having computer problems, 
which defied hours upon hours (no lie) of 
technical support from in-home technicians to 
the point that I was seriously wondering if we had 
computer nasty, be it jinni or ghost. More 
importantly, we had been having many family 
meltdowns in the past few weeks over our fickle
computers. I didn’t care about computers. I just 
wanted harmony.

I was a little surprised when both spouse and son 
said yes, they had bought a new computer.They 
had agreed just the previous night to wait another 
six months to get one with the new 64-bit 
processor.They then said,“Guess what kind.” I 
went down the list: Dell, Hewlett-Packard, Sony, 
Gateway, Compac, and so on. I named every kind 
of computer you could think of.“No. No. No,” 
they said to each guess.“I give up!” I cried.

Now, my husband of 30 years is a man of very 
strong ideas. He has an iron will, which when 
focused and conscious is nothing less than 
fantastic determination.When he’s not so 
conscious, this determination, however, can feel 
more like stubbornness and nothing can move 
him. He had been a staunch PC advocate, and 
nothing, I mean nothing, would have changed his 
mind. So when they both shouted at me,“Apple!”
you could have scraped me off the floor.You see, 
originally I had wanted an Apple, but Apples 
were not allowed in our home any more than 
pork is allowed in a kosher home.

This might seem trivial to some. But I have been 
married for 30 years.And for 30 years, my 
marriage has traversed hills and valleys, the two 
of us struggling toward a mutual goal of unity 
and equality. This apparently inconsequential 
choice of computers represented a “laying down 
of the sword” that only those engaged in the battle 
would recognize. I mean if you had told me that 
China freed Tibet, I would not have been more 
surprised. I remembered mentally lifting my 
pencil, saying “Dewdrop,” and tapping “husband,
” “computer,” and “son.” Could 30 years of 
conflict be so quickly and effortlessly dissolved? 
Could saying “I’m sorry,” “Forgive me,”“Thank 
you,” and “I love you” transform a lifetime of
external conflicts with my authority figures—
mother, phone company, and husband? All I 
know is that it’s been two weeks since the
workshop. I practice daily what Dr. Hew Len 
taught me as religiously as I can. My son’s over 
a long, protracted illness, and my husband and I
are dialoguing about things I used to keep bottled 
up and withheld. Oh, and last night he said,“You 
know, honey, if you’d like, you can get one of 
these little laptops for yourself.”

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