Equal To, Not Greater Than

To be equal to, not greater than.

This is an idea contrary to our very nature. A man, when seated next to his dog, is not equal to the dog (although solid arguments can be made as proof of that concept).

Man and dog have different natures; the ‘nature’ of something, that which makes it what it is, is held to account by laws insurmountable by man. Men (and women) and dogs — and cats and trees and birds and flowers and the rocks themselves — have different natures. Place a labrador next to a chihuahua and while the breed is different they share the same nature. Same with male and female.

That having been said, a chihuahua is by far the more comical canine. In that regard it has no equal.

Man, when seated next to his dog is superior to his canine friend. That is part of Nature’s law.

But let’s return to the man and woman.

Why should any man want to be superior to a woman when both share the same nature? Is there not a stronger balance and a more resonant harmony when one is equal to, not greater than, the other?

I’m not stupid enough to think we don’t have differences and disagreements, that we don’t come from widely disparate backgrounds and environments. These things are cause for friction, to be sure, but they are equal to both natures.

Indeed, we have different levels of intelligence and tolerance, different ideas about money and politics, about laughter and passion. Money and politics appeal to our material and corrupt natures. Laughter is a great purger, a perfect means to cleanse the soul of cancerous darkness; passion, in all its exuberant forms, gives our ambitions and higher selves wings and air currents to loft us closer to the touch of God.

I ask again: what elevates one above another?

I make no secret of my disdain for stupid people. Don’t deride me because the fact is I’m right and each of us knows it — stupid people are not figments of our lesser imaginations, they truly exist. A sad misstep in man’s nature to be sure. Perhaps in this regard alone would I consider myself superior to another.

I don’t mean “stupid” because someone doesn’t know what I know. That concept alone can most always make for wholesale improvements on both sides of the fence. We all know the kind of knuckle dragging, mouth breathing brand of idiocy I’m alluding to. [Congress, anyone?]

Notice the important distinction — not empirical but to-the-bone, flat out stupid.

Yeah, I’m better than that person.

I am not, however, perfect. I make no claim to that effect.

I am far more susceptible to the haunts of my demons than to the embrace of my angels. James Madison once wrote that there are no angels among the ranks of men, for if there were we would have no need for government. I petition for the intercession of my angels all the time. Why? Because I am human.

Angels are not to be confused with stupid people (or Congress). Angels are far better equipped to forgive morons. That makes them truly blessed.

I shall never be equal to — nor greater than — angels, certainly not while I still draw breath.

I shall forever be imperfect — for that is my nature.

I shall always seek and hope for the best in my equal. Surely she will be an angel.

Read Full Post »

Angel In My Pocket

Do yourself a favor, a kindness really.

Close your eyes and exhale slowly. Listen to your breath as it leaves your body.

Think of the times you’ve literally crawled completely under your bed covers, luxuriating in the warmth that surrounded you. Remember the peace it brought? When you exhale again, try to recall that inner peace. I know it sounds eccentric, perhaps even unorthodox or kooky. But give yourself a chance . . . and listen with your heart. Ignore what the ears funnel into your brain, just for a moment.

To the attentive, something stirs.

---

Some do.
Some don’t.

I happen to believe in angels. Always have.

It’s not something I wear on my sleeve, but be assured I keep them close to the vest at all hours.

This past weekend I went to—and participated in—the Tucson Festival of Books. Big crowd, gorgeous weather; it was quite a pleasant event. I got there early (gee, how typical of me) and located one of the ‘Author Pavilions’ I was to be at for my allotted two hour time. I hung around the first tent (‘pavilion’) I came to, until one of the other authors announced it was Pavilion 1 . . . D’OH! I was supposed to be in Pavilion 2. So I wandered around until I found it.

That part isn’t all that interesting.

When I arrived I chose a spot between two other folks who had already set up. I didn’t know anybody there, so the choice of seat was entirely random on my part. Although now I’m not completely certain it was.

See, the two ladies to my left (your right in the picture) had written a book titled Your Angels Are Speaking. I didn’t look before I sat down. As a matter of fact, I hadn’t inquired about their book until I’d been sitting there for about twenty minutes. We chatted for a bit before I broached the subject. When she told me what it was and then began telling me about how it came about, I was, naturally, intrigued.

Here’s where I lose some readers, but that’s alright. . .
The two women are sisters. One of them, years ago, said she had actually encountered her guardian angels. Apparently she was able to connect with them over the span of a few months. One sister did the writing while the other spoke aloud. Mind you, they were very normal people. You’d think someone like that might seem to have shaken a few screws loose, but I’m telling you they were as down-to-earth as you or I.

In case you’re wondering, I did buy a copy and have only just starting reading it. But let me relate a quick story to you about a time that cemented my belief:

I remember, quite some time ago, being worried about a dear friend of mine who lives in New York. I hadn’t heard from her in quite a while, even though I had tried e-mailing a number of times. I went to bed one night and prayed aloud, asking for whatever kind of divine assistance I may receive—I needed to know she was okay, even hoped she would contact me. Remember, I had heard zip for months—many months at that. Frankly, I didn’t expect to hear anything, but while my head tried to slap sense into me, my heart fervently hoped for that small sliver of a chance she might get the message.

The very next day she wrote to me.

“Coincidence,” you say. Perhaps. I can’t rule it out. But given my prior experience I wasn’t inclined to take that bait.

I truly believe that I wouldn’t have heard one word, perhaps for many more months, had I not allowed my heart to cry out for help. I was beyond mortal means of communication. If I searched my memory I’m sure I could recall a multitude of instances when my guardian angels have helped me.

I am but a mortal soul, perhaps an essence of some kind or other restricted by physical flesh and bone. The biological machine continues to operate under the laws of nature, but the true self aspires to the deeper truth of Nature’s God.

Read Full Post »

Of Books And Angels

One of the best things about having your own blog is you get to dictate the content—it’s your party and you’ll cry if you want to . . . or whine, rant, make fun of others, or indulge in a touch of shameless self-promotion.

So this post won’t contain any breathtaking prose on politics or current events, no mental wanderings on things in my little corner of another summer in Hell Arizona.

See, I’m fast closing in on my first book signing ‘thing’. Next Saturday, July 25th, at Changing Hands Bookstore in Tempe, from 2:00-3:30pm. Should be a good day. I’ll have all new experiences in anxiety and stress at the bookstore, and then afterwards my son and I are going to a Diamondbacks game; the way they’ve been playing chances are I’ll come up bigger at the bookstore than they will in front of a stadium half-full of fans.

Doesn’t really matter. I get to have a bona fide day to carefully tuck away in memory.

In anticipation—and because I think I’d be remiss if I didn’t do so—I stopped by the bookstore to see if my book was on the shelves ahead of the signing:

The Author Events section

In case you missed it . . . my books . . . on the shelf!

Any questions? OOH-RAH! If nothing else I get to see my book on a bookstore shelf. I may not sell a single one that day, but I got to experience something I never thought I would. It was a moment of quiet intensity.

I’d like to ask for your indulgence one moment more. I wanted to share this review—not because it’s another glowing review, but because of something better than that. About three weeks ago I’d sent out a press release and receieved almost thirty requests for review copies. For one in particular, I visited her blog, only to discover she’d very recently had a death in her family. Along with the book I sent a note expressing my sincere condolences. I figured she wouldn’t get around to reading the book, much less writing a review, for quite a while given the circumstances . . . and that suited me just fine. However, within about two weeks she’d written me back stating she had, in fact, read it and done the review. First, here’s the note she sent:

I want to first thank you for the nice note you included with the book you sent for review. Your expressions of sympathy for the loss of my sister were very kind. I am thankful you sent the book when you did. It was wonderful and I needed to read it.

Nice, indeed, of itself. Next, the review she wrote:

The Light, The Dark, & Ember Between is beautifully written, and is an uplifting, thoughtful, intelligent, and heartfelt collection of short stories. Fifteen stories in all, each is so very different and from different points of view. All of the stories bring the message of hope to the reader. This is a book that lives up to what it promises – the message of hope as the “Ember Between.”

I have to say that this book came to me at just the right time. I needed to read it because it reminded me that hope doesn’t just happen. We have to keep our eyes open and watch for it. This is a lovely book that I recommend for personal reading or as a wonderful gift.

By the way, on Amazon she gave it 5-stars, and entitled her comment “Better than 5 stars.” (Remember, this is my blog!)

Her review, of course, is wonderful. But I submit that the higher reason for basking in it isn’t because of what she thought of the book, rather because of what it did for one person—a complete stranger. Should there ever be any doubt or argument about the power of angels? I have the warmest suspicion that the timing of my press release was guided by a power far greater than any visible entity I know of.

Every so often, if we listen very carefully, closely, without remission of heart, we may hear the whisper of an angel telling us we’ve done well. I like her review (of course) but am far more fond of what she’s said between the lines. I managed, in some small way, to make a difference—and I have to say it feels exceptionally good.

---

If you’d like to see the rest of the Amazon reviews you can find them here.

I have all the reviews (Amazon’s included) posted at my site, Avomnia.com.

Read Full Post »