Bree Ervin’s Angels Everywhere

When I met Bree Ervin, well, everyone has a “how I met Bree Ervin” story, but here is mine.  I was walking through a crowded hotel lobby at the Pikes Peak Writers Conference, and I bumped into this red-headed demon, who said, and I quote, “I’m Bree, and I was told, in no uncertain terms, that I needed to meet you.”  And meet me she did.  We talked about God, atheism, faith, hope, love, and the greatest of these…is love.  I love Bree Ervin.  She is a dynamo: writer, publicist, wife, mother, poet, warrior, queen.  And so, I enlisted her to write a blog on angels, thinking she would say no.

She said yes.  This is the result.  Take it away, Bree!

* * *

The truth is, I don’t believe in angels. I don’t believe in God. Or Hell. Or Demons. Or the Devil either. I am an Atheist.

I tell you this to establish a baseline for what comes next.

Angels are everywhere.

That might seem like a contradiction.  After all didn’t I open with the promise of not believing in angels, with the statement that I am a militant Atheist?

Sure. But in this, like in most things in life, you have to look a little closer.

I don’t believe in semi-divine beings with wings and a penchant for fighting over God’s favor. I find there is quite enough of that down here in the human realm, why sully up the heavens with it?

And yet, it turns out that angels, real honest to goodness angels are, in fact, everywhere. And no, I’m not talking about the Victoria’s Secret babes either, they’re even more improbable than the little godlets we all get so worked up about.

I mean angels. Real angels.

Let me explain.

Angel means messenger.

It comes from the Greek – ἄγγελος and before that, the Hebrew – מלאך. Both of these words mean messenger. In fact, if you read the Bible in its original form you will discover that most of the angels described in its pages are not supernatural, paranormal beings with wings – but people. That’s all, just people. People with a message.

Some of these angels became prophets or priests. Some were just one time runners. Many became scapegoats.

I tell you this, not to take away whatever magic or power you wish to imbue the world with, because while I may not believe in God or angels, I do believe in Magic. No, I tell you this to open your eyes and mind and heart to the magic and power that really is here.
Because when we break through the semantics of what we’d like an angel to be, to discover what an angel actually is, a shift happens. A very important shift.

Suddenly angels are everywhere.

When we begin to look at the world, and the people around us, as if they might hold a piece of the divinity we seek, we open ourselves to a new realm of possibility. It is one that we do not have to tithe for, or pray for, or be judged by. It is not one we have to fear. It is, instead, a reality of exaltation.

When you see the person making your morning latte not as a loser who couldn’t do any better, but as a piece of the divine, who just might be carrying a message for you, your perception shifts. You listen closer, you open yourself more, you see deeper.

Then, one day, the full shift comes and you realize that if all of these people that you interact with on a daily basis are part of the divine, then you must be too. If they are your angels, your messengers, then you are theirs. All at once it matters what you say and how you act.

When we see each other not as competition, but as compatriots all trapped in the same endless maze, it becomes that little bit easier to offer a helping hand. When we start to really account for all the help we receive every day from friends, family and anonymous strangers, it goes beyond that and becomes a genuine obligation.

Aaron Ritchey’s book, The Never Prayer, asks the question, “When do we struggle to change the world and when do we let go and embrace life’s broken beauty?”

When we open our eyes to the miracles of life all around us, when we open our hearts to the messages laid out before us, when we begin to see the angels everywhere – the answer becomes simple. We struggle to change the world, always. For we are the angels we’ve been waiting for.

Bree Ervin can be found ranting at her blog, working at her website, and wasting time at facebook/bannedthoughts and on twitter @thinkbanned where she believes she is an angel of common sense.

Thanks, Bree, I owe you my life.  And dude, you used Greek and Hebrew on my website.  I’m so in love with you again.

Mondays Are Hell – Demons Behaving Badly

Sasha Summers, who is awesome, agreed to guest blog for me.  She has two, count ’em, two books coming out.  One about the softer side of Medusa from Crecent Moon Press, and the other about the lovey side of Hollywood. From Inkspell. Great titles, Medusa, A Love Story. And Hollywood Ever AfterLearn more about her on her website.  She is awesome ever after. God, I should delete that.  Awesome ever after.  But I can’t.  I need a permanent editor on my shoulder.

Take it away Sasha!

Sasha writes:
The thing I adore about Greek Mythology (well it’s one of many things) is the sheer number of diabolical monsters, villains and, yes, demons. These delightful specters of doom wreak havoc on mortals, shades, and Olympians alike – they are equal offender bad guys. And, honestly, they know how to mix things up.

I bet you’ll be able to immediately identify the devilish demon in… Medusa, A Love Story. If you said Euryale and Stheno – high five. If you said Medusa, sigh, you obviously haven’t read my book yet… *sigh*

That’s okay, it hasn’t been released yet. But now I know you’ll run right out and pick up a copy.

Euryale and Stheno were Gorgons, like their sister Medusa. Whether or not they had the ability to turn man to stone, like Medusa, is debated. But one thing is sure: they were super nasty witches with seriously bad attitudes. I didn’t use this description in my novel, but this is how most sources describe them.

 

  • Winged
  • boar husks
  • curving and brazen claws talons
  • fanged
  • lizard tongue
  • scaly skin
  • serpent hair

 

FYI, Gorgon means terrible or dreadful. But I think Demon is an apt description. What do you think?

If Aaron invites me back for more Greek Demon speak, we’ll talk about the Erinyes, winged demons that serve Hades in Tartarus. Or Cerberus, gate keeper to the Underworld. Or the half-snake woman Echidna, or Chimera…

 

Sasha’s website
Follow her on Twitter
And Pinterest
Goodreads

Mondays Are Hell – Nicotine Demons and Too Many Brownies

Demons are sure a nice idea.

No, really. That fact that here I am, a person, struggling to do good, and all the while, in this invisible world, there are demons gnawing on my soul, tempting me, offering me up delights that look good, but in the end harm me.

Is mental illness any more comforting than the idea of demons? I don’t know. Yes, there are medications people can use to treat mental illness, but from my experience, that only allows them a fighting chance against the demons gnawing on them. I treat my mental illness so I can fight the demons.

Lots of demons out there. Chocolate demons. They whisper, “Just have one brownie. Just one.” You say no, the brownie is full of trans fats, refined sugar, high fructose corn syrup–demons all!  But the demon continues to whisper. Until you eat one. Five more later, you hate the demon. Dang demon, making me eat brownies.

Or the bed demons. “Don’t get up. It’s so early. Come back to bed. It’s so cozy. Your work can wait. Come back, come back, come back, to Mordor we will take you.” I go back to bed, then spend the rest of the day regretting it.

Better to blame demons than to blame my poor, human self, though in the end, most likely, it’s just my own poor self to blame. But I can use the idea of demons to manage the more wild aspects of my nature. When tempted, I can say, “Get thee behind me, Satan.”

I think that’s where the idea of evil and demons came from. Part of our natures are self-destructive. Why?  I don’t know. I love cigars. Smoking is stupid. Expensive. Self-destructive.

Nicotine demons.

No matter what kind of language you use, whether you call it being possessed by the Devil, addiction, mental illness, sloth, a genetic predisposition to smoke cigars, it all boils down to the same thing. Part of life is managing your demons, whipping them into shape, and striving to be better than your animal self. Because the animal self wants to eat, party, and sleep. And poop. We as human creatures, well, we have other needs. A sense of meaning, friendships, security from the cold wind blowin’, preparing for the future.

Demons are like the honey badger though, they don’t give a care.

And for the most part, it’s a one day at a time proposition. How can I fight my demons today? Just for today.

Good luck out there. And be careful.  Demons are everywhere!