Sunday, May 12, 2013

Guardians


To my wonderful Guardian Lynda C. Mullins. You inspire me with every breath.

 
 

I feel very blessed. That is all.

 
Guardians

  

There is not a lot left to be said about angels that hasn’t already been imagined. A lot of people talk about seeing them here and now, and others say we wouldn’t know them if we did see them. I like to think that I’ve seen plenty of angels, and maybe when I did I left a good impression or at least something not altogether embarrassing. But this isn’t about real angels, not ones with wings, halos, cherub faces, or even the mighty warriors written about in the bible. This is about the ones who vote themselves to be a real life flesh and blood angels right here on earth. I bet that if you look around you right now you would see them. Lots of different ways a real life angel or hero can appear, but I’m only going to really talk about one.

 

Guardians.

 

People have joked that thunderstorms are the angels at play up above. That they are crashing around, or maybe even arguing, and maybe just maybe if you want a laugh you could pretend that it is the angels bowling in heaven. Each strike is a boom of thunder. I like to think that some days when it’s really storming there are children born on those days to do great things. Like some great Kings are born on a thunderous day - something picturesque.

 

But even so I imagine on the day that a Guardian is born you’d see the sun shining and that that whole day, or if it were night, the light breeze would be all you would find. I like to think that the angels would have stopped their bowling, and maybe arguing, or whatever it was that they would be doing would be on pause. I like to think it because I have a suspicion that they would want to see whoever it was new to our world who could be certainly so lucky as to be given double the amount of love that a natural born person should be given.

 

Sometimes I imagine the angels all gathered around outside of the door, pushing and shoving, maybe even a tiny bit jealous, because the person in that room, even if her or his parents don’t know it, will do something incredible some day. Incredible you say? Why, yes, yes I do.

 

You see every person has a certain amount of love. A body can only hold so much it seems, but these people, well, its just not ever going to be known just how much they can hold.

 

So yes, on that shiny day where all is still a child is breathing and moving in its own mother’s arms learning right away how it will be for them… Maybe more times then they know.

 

But what happens then you ask? Well I can tell you!

 

Growing up like an average person, only the maker and angels knowing the truth as they follow this body around just how incredible they really are. I like to imagine they peek in every so once in a while and maybe even ask the maker “Now?” And he has to chide them “Not yet”.

 

You could spot them if you really knew how to look. A lot of times they were the oldest and cared for their brothers and sisters, at other times they are just someone who stands responsible far earlier than the body next to them in the classroom, but all and all its safe to say that the life of a Guardian is wrought with great tests.

 

If you are gifted with extra love, it is as it should be that you should be tested. The angels all would nod that this should be so, but no one but the person themselves knows how difficult that really is.

 

Then comes the patience because the person is growing, and aging, making choices maybe that are not so good, and the angels will even scratch their heads time and again, asking the maker if this really is the same soul they welcomed into the world, but he would only smile at them with that knowing smile. No body but the maker really knows the true secret of growing such a guardian.

 

So times passes. Seasons come and go, and the person might even go into a very normal life, one that seems destined and finished, nothing so special about it. After more time fades one by one the angels leave far away, busy, and off to bowl once again, they soon all forget even who this person is besides a very regular one.

 

Pretty soon no one is watching.

 

The person is just a person once more.

 


 

So then a regular thing on a regular day, another entirely different very regular person comes along. He or she is by one way or another just that… Oh so regular.

 

In fact she/he is so regular that the room is very empty when this person is born. In fact it is so empty that it is barely a whisper and everyone and everything is moving along as if he or she barely existed.

 

The person being even so regular that if you looked outside during the time of their arrival there is a slight rumble. Busy, busy, even the heavens have not noticed her or him.

 

This person is not aware at all of who he or she might be and even if this person were to take note they might find themselves altogether regular and that would do no one any good, so it is best that at so young an age, this regular person is completely and utterly and regularly - a baby.

 

But secretly the secret remains, and it is as if creation itself waits.

 

Until one day it is so regular a day that the baby find themselves utterly alone. In all goodness they do not even know it, and at least that is as it is for now, because no one should be alone, and to know it would only be very irregular.

 

When all seems so incredibly lost, a tiny memory comes to a tiny angel who is worried about the tiny regular baby as is his job. He stops what he is doing and decides to visit the maker on whim. Certainly there is something to be done.

 

In between the normal busy goings on he asks quietly in the corner near the throne to the maker, “Now?”

 

Almost no one hears him, but it is as if time stands still. The maker does hear him and turns his head. His smile is not small and he nods.

 

One by one the angels remember. In one voice they say in wonder “The Guardian”.

 

Rushing and tripping over one another they rush to the side of where last they saw this once incredible person who came long ago on a very warm and bright day. They search the house, the job, even this persons own children’s rooms but the Guardian is gone!

 

They search high and low until one angel finally yells “Here!”

 

One by one the angles collect around the room of a place they have never been before. This place holds a baby, a very regular child, but it is inside of that room and inside of the arms of the once upon a time incredible person. Those arms hold the baby like it is never to be so regular again. The angels look around oh so confused.

 

Is it possible they ask,  - barely, maybe,-  it cant be so!, they all argue but the tiny angel steps forward.

 

It can be he says, but it is incredible, and just as incredible as we all had wondered before.

 

He says this oh so slightly, as to be almost unheard, but he is heard this time so far and so wide, that the maker, the angels, and all of the world is impacted by it forever to be changed.

 

Just how much love can these people hold? One asks. This is not just any person, the tiny angel answers.

 

This is a Guardian.

 

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Everybody just wants to get high!!!





The older I get, and the more I see the world, the more that song ‘Drugs or Jesus’ makes sense…



My own little planet here on the blogosphere - Ick font change! Need bigger… Did I say something about me getting older yet?


If not it will be said eventually… Then I’ll forget and say it again.
 

So in the song he says, “Everyone just wants to get high, and watch a perfect world go by…” Or something like that, anyway it make sense being that people seemingly want to stay as numb as possible (Cough) and then die. No really.

A friend of mine the other day brought up something I said a few years back about people teaching their kids that they are worm food… I guess some don’t like hearing that, but essentially dirt or Jesus…. In a sense. Or the other million religions… Nother story.

Okay back to getting high… Drug of choice anyone want to toss a few out? No, no, no, not maryjuuuuuaaaana type drugs… Did everyone know about the national pot smoking day? I marked my calendar. LOL




Is that the Governator?



 But no not pot, that’s too obvious and has a passing effect…. There are all kinds of more lasting drugs. Individuality… Even though it is actually individuality with other individuals er, I am party to a group therefore I am… “I matter” is one of the top drugs of choice.

Still I want something even less noticable...


Let me see… Oh, the latest and greatest! I call these the Starbucks drugs and I don’t mean caffeine. Ooo la la I am pay an extra cent or two to save the rainforest, indigenous tribe, starving dolphins, worthless textile…


This drug is called morals by purchase…. Don’t get me started on environmentalisms… That’s for another blog. Yes, yes, I believe in doing some sort of conservation, just not the way ANY corporation would encourage a body to go about it.


I wanted to start with the cup of coffee a day plus ten cents makes you a righteous man! It is a drug… You feel better when you drop that dollar into that guilty little plastic bottle, right?


This is not about the give this child the surgery he/she needs quarter sheet at the counter of the local Los Cabos… Or about actual organizations like Compassion international… Those things are usually legitimate ways to affect an actual life…



Two thumbs up for this orginization!



Can someone set one up for these models please.... Like when I buy a bucket of chicken they get some food stuffed in their face?

(the quarter one is still kinda iffy but at least you have a name of an actual person you are supporting) And they are a conscious effort of you giving. I am most supportive of families setting aside an amount each month to donate to a cause vs. their nickel and dimes given out of guilt or because they chose a certain product that happens to have made a good moral choice for them…



Do you see where this is heading?



I am talking more along the lines of purchasing expensive items that have extra cents/dollars added to donations of various causes that you have NO knowledge of, and if given the opportunity you would actually NOT have supported and funded the whatever it is that you funded and supported because you wanted that type of coffee bean. And then the resulting high of “doing good”… Were you? Are you really? Is there such a thing as non-premeditated goodness? It took no time out of your day and it is an amount that you may not even notice… Hmmmm… Where is the real sacrifice?



If you sign up for an organization with the intention of supporting it that is essentially something sacrificial and a reasonable attempt at giving showing good moralistic behavior. Purchasing a water bottle that digs a well in the Congo… Two birds with one stone.. What’s the problem here?


Nothing really… Unless you get a tiny good feeling from that products charity… Adopting their idea to be charitable as your own… You possibly are affected regularly by this drug of choice… Stuff that does stuff for you.


Essentially you are relying on the company to be a do gooder… But you? Not so much.


Oh I could do 100 blogs on these different drugs that we use to get through the day and justify our naturally selfish humanity. We all do it, and have fallen into the trap of being … I know I know, American people (such negative connotations), who are most usually NOT starving and maybe even a little bit idol (if you have time for more than 15 minutes a day of the teli…) not saying - just saying.



Anyway, we all do it, we alllll do it, we ALLLLLLL do it,. But justifying US and the reasons for our existence come in all shapes and forms, religions and sizes….



Drugs or Jesus…