A Gift For You

You can get FREE eBook editions of my novels The Dashing Mister R and The Altered Boys Club for any electronic reader from Smashwords. You can even give them as gifts! Here is the link:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/category/1/newest/1

The free offer ends at midnight 31 July 2013.

I hope you enjoy them. I would appreciate reading your reviews on Smashwords or Amazon.

Thank you!
Daniel

Pennies From Heaven?

     Remember the children's rhyme: Find a penny and pick it up and all day you'll have good luck? I recently read somewhere that pennies on the ground come from our Angels. The article said this is one way Angels signify their presence, and to let us know they are watching out for us. Now I'm finding pennies wherever I go! And yes, I pick them up, pocket them, and say thank you. This is so much nicer than creaking floors, turning doorknobs, rattling windows and other things that go bump in the night! However, I'm not certain the Angels leave the pennies for my welfare as much as maybe, like us, they simply like to be acknowledged and appreciated once in a while. 

     Synchronicity or paranormal? Perhaps the two come to us together.

Eternally Me

     I often joke that I am ever youthful and fully myself until I stand in front of a mirror. I gaze upon that face and think 'Who are you? And, why are you lip syncing me?'

     The books I have been reading of late, especially Anthony Peake's 'The Labyrinth of Time' are helping me to understand this. When I am in the world, I am without the context of any sense of personal time. I am simply myself. When confronted with a mirror, I am put into the context of age. The face in the mirror has a history, but it is only a history of the body. Without physicality, I more fully express the soul, the essence of who or what I am. This is who I am while sleeping in a dream state. It is who I am in other dimensions of existence. This is who I am when I pass from this world into the next. I am eternal.

    

"Out Of My Dreams"

     In 1943 Rogers and Hammerstein made musical theater history with their show Oklahoma! and forever changed the art form. For the first time, the songs were integrated into the story to advance the plot. One of those songs sung by the character Laurie with the Women's Chorus has special significance for this column.      

                                        "Out of my dreams and into your arms I long to fly 

I will come as evening comes to woo a waiting sky. 

Out of my dreams and into the hush of falling shadows, 

When the mist is low and stars are breaking through 

Then out of my dreams I'll go Into a dream with you. 

Won't have to make up anymore stories 

You'll be there! 

Think of the bright midsummer night 

Glories we can share. 

Won't have to go on kissing a daydream 

I'll have you 

You'll be real 

Real as the white moon lighting the blue." 

     People often have recurring dreams, especially when desire is involved. These dreams stand out not only because of the emotion that helped create them, but also for the detail. Dreams like Laurie's about a potential lover can even allow the dreamer to feel the desired embrace and even a kiss. When this happens in waking life, it seems like deja vu. But is it? 

     Couldn't be that the relationship already existed in some other dimension and was drawn into this realm called 'reality?' Might it also be the case that the relationship is real and separation from the lover is a unpleasant dream of past or future?

from 'The Altered Boys Club'

     “This is a great spot next to the window,” Sebastian commented. “How lucky was that? This place is packed.”

     “The food is really good for the money. The whole neighborhood eats here.”

     The waitress delivered their orders in time to hear the endorsement and smiled as she set their food in front of them. “Anything else I can bring you guys?” she asked as she totaled the check and set it face down next to Cliff’s water glass and left.

     “God! I hate when they slam down the check with the food! It’s so rude!” Sebastian said louder than perhaps he should have, at least for Cliff’s sake.

     “Hey, Sebastian, it’s no big deal. You can see how busy they are. This way we’re not left waiting when we want to leave.” Cliff was speaking in a very low voice and leaning slightly over the table so that the whole restaurant didn’t have to listen.

     “I’m sorry, Cliff. That’s just one of my pet peeves.” Sebastian stated in a volume that matched his friend’s.

     Each of them picked up their burgers and moaned with satisfaction. Sebastian set his down as he chewed and picked up his napkin to wipe a little grease off his chin. When he had swallowed enough to be able to speak without spitting, he exclaimed, “That is a damn good burger!” He started to take another bite but something he saw through the window caused him to replace his sandwich on the plate. “Cliff, can you take care of this. Ask the lady to pack mine to go. I have to leave. I see someone I know.” He was up and out the door before Cliff could even say “sure,” or signal the waitress. He looked outside to see where his friend was running off to in such a hurry. The waitress saw Sebastian leave and came over to the table.

     “Sorry, but something’s come up. Can you wrap these up to go?” Cliff looked at the bill and handed the woman a twenty and said, “Take this and keep the change. I’ll be back to pick up our food.”

     The waitress placed the check and the money in the pocket of her apron and picked up their plates to take to the kitchen. Cliff ran out the door, trailing Sebastian down Third Avenue toward Atlantic. “Jesus!” He said out loud to himself in wonder, “he’s running straight to where we found the boy! What did he see?”

     When he finally caught up to Sebastian, his friend was kneeling next to the donation bin facing the space where the body had laid. He looked sadly up at Cliff, “This is the place, isn’t it? Is this where Ajit’s body was found?”

     “How are earth did you know that, Sebastian? You tore out of the dinner like you had seen a ghost!”

     “Actually, Cliff, that’s exactly what happened. Ajit was on the sidewalk peering in at us. I followed him here.”

     “I should have known. So, what do you make of this?”

Shades of Karma

     The sun rested mere inches over the horizon as the young man made his way from his office to the subway station. He had had quite a day. Push came to shove and he threw his co-worker, Charlie, 'under the bus' so to speak. As a result the young man was promoted with a rise in pay. He was so self-satisfied that when the employee he had gotten fired threatened revenge, he only smiled. The meager effort wasn't even worth his laughter.

     Now that he was on the street, he had the feeling of being followed. As he had seen people do in movies, he waited until he was in front of a shop window to turn to look while pretending something on display had caught his eye. No one. It must have been his imagination. He continued on his way.

     There he was. He saw him out of the corner of his eye. He was certain he was being followed by a man dressed in charcoal grey. Wasn't Charlie wearing a charcoal suit today? He wondered, but couldn't really remember. Until the opportunity to do him in, the young man had never really paid Charlie much attention. Like this sidewalk, Charlie was only a means to an end. Nonetheless, the young man quickened his pace. The grey man moved faster, too. Whenever the young man paused, so did the man. When the young man turned to look back, the grey man disappeared somehow. Beads of moisture formed on the young man's forehead. He could feel them trailing down inside the collar of his shirt. He considered standing his ground, but the only thing he had to fight with was his department store shopping bag. He decided instead to get to the station as fast as he could. Charlie, or whoever his pursuer was wouldn't do anything in front of witnesses. 

     Finally, he reached the station. As he prepared to descend the stairs, he looked down and saw an extra pair of dark shoes. The shock caused him to miss the step and he tumbled down to the landing. A man asked if he was all right and offered him a hand up.

     "He pushed me! You're a witness! Did you see who pushed me?" the young man pleaded.

     "There was no one near you," the man replied. "You tripped on something and fell. No one pushed you."

     "No! A man in a charcoal suit. You must have seen him. He's followed me since I left work. His name is Charlie something or other. He got fired today and blamed me. He swore revenge. I'm sure he tried to kill me just now! Tell me you saw him! You must have seen him!" The young man was shouting his panic now.

    "Sorry, mister, but like I said, no one was around you. You tripped somehow. That's all. Now get yourself home. Be safe."

     "Yeah, sure, easy for you to say!"

     The man shook his head and continued down the stairs to his train. A woman approached him. "I saw you help that guy. He never even thanked you."

     "That's okay. He said something about someone in his office threatening him. Right this minute, I think he'd be afraid of his own shadow. It'll be dark soon. I hope he makes it home all right."

     

Paranormal or 'Other' Normal?

     In his book 'Daemon' Anthony Peake mentions a pair of events that happened to Swedish playwright August Stringberg and similarly to Dostoevsky. Each of these men wrote about moments where they were instantly transported to a different time while having a conversation with friends. Peake further posits that this is a common occurrence with artistic people.

     These instantaneous and momentary flashes of a different reality have a basis in the physiology of the human brain. Huxley wrote about these effects of drugs such as mescaline. However, Peake writes this is also what happens during meditation. The afterglow so to speak is our feeling of enlightenment.

     This also describes my experience while writing. I have always told people that I am simply an instrument. I write down what I hear being told to me. I know not where the story goes or how it will end until the voice has finished the dictation.

      Humans have to capacity of awareness in many different dimensions. We only have to allow ourselves the stillness to listen and the willingness to see this other aspect of 'normal.'