So… That happened.

I’ve often ruminated on the fact that I, of all people, should be given this kind of responsibility. I exist outside of any church, I’m a gay man, and for many years I not only did not believe in the existence of angels, but I often viewed those who did  as naive.  (I fully admit it: I was a condescending douchebag even if I never showed it.)

Now after having done this work, I have come to find that naive people simply don’t exist anymore.

The modern world has made us all too cynical, suspicious, afraid and skeptical of everyone and anything. We don’t even trust our yogurt anymore because we’re afraid it might have E Coli.

The world has become so cynical and pessimistic that the fact that God is sending a miracle just for you, right to your doorstep, is met with fear, skepticism, and suspicion.

I have seen it tons of times.

The majority of people believe life is against them, not for them, and they have erected walls a thousand miles deep to prevent anything genuine to reach them.

This is sad but true.

I say: have the courage, open your heart, and strive to think up a God that is bigger than you first imagined, and the things he can do will really blow-your-mind.

This is the greatest lesson I have learned, as I stand in the middle of the climax of the story of my life, experiencing the biggest plot twist no one, not even me, saw coming.

Sometimes even I wonder: have I been writing this story? Or has it been writing me?

Miracles Abound

I know some people might think I’m a crazy man, a phony or an evangelist trying to promote some new-fangled religion.

I am none of those–and I think that is what is most alarming. Strangers when they meet me find me rather sane, timid, and even irreverent at times. Certainly not the type to invent some fantasy out of nothing.

To those who doubt what I say, I completely agree with you. You need not take me at my word, you need not prove the truth to me, save to yourself.

Challenge everything and you will see that it leads you to the same truth. I need not convince you, I live the reality of my gift on a daily basis, and so I need not deal in skepticism any longer.

It is you who must challenge your own reality, and see whether in the end, it matches mine and so many others.

The Paradox of Truth

First hand experience is proof enough for some, not enough for others, but I stillremain  humbled that my truth may not be widely accepted.

From the perspective of the Angels, all points of view are valid so long as they are based in unconditional love, which is the supreme truth.

So, in the end, who am I to say that you are wrong and I am right, when I don’t need you to be wrong for me to be right, and, in many ways, although we see the world altogether differently, we are both right.

Talk about a topsy turvy world!

Can I provide to you uniquovical proof of my claim? Nothing more than first hand experience can provide. But if you ask to see the invisible made visible, first you must be willing to open another eye you rarely use, the eye of supernatural perception.

And there is where all logic ends, for we enter a world of the abstract, the world of feeling, and of mystery. Where nothing but your soul is visible. But if you refuse to see your soul as it is, not in material form, then you’ve given your mind a heavy task: to prove only that which could be proven if you completely change what you consider to be plausible evidence.

Do I seek to prove who I am?

No.

I exist and therefore my being is truth enough.

The Paradox of Semblance

I have this eerie feeling the future is watching me. Trying to figure out where I end up by studying where it all began.

This is a type of beginning. One that changes everything and one that will make what I say from now on dense with considerable weight and significance, as if I write knowing my biographer is at this moment gazing at me… With beady, forlorn eyes… Wanting to pierce inside my forehead, unpack my frown, wanting to know who I desired when and how, all the trivial stuff that makes me human but is totally besides the point.

The point is I am tasked with describing the indescribable and I find that, surprisingly, I may be one of the few up to the task, which is stunning to say the least.

Let us try at failing:

I am not much of outgoing person, perferring to sit and read at home than go out to a party. People often overwhelm me. And yet, books don’t thrill me as much any more, my life is now more thrilling than any novel I could ever read or write, and I suppose that is at it should be.

Having took the journey of the skeptic to where I am now offers me some perks: I have seen that the truth needs no defense lawyer, it comes barreling down you with a pulse greater than gravity.

Truth, if you avoid it, will physically hit you eventually. It’s immaterial form is that dense.

No journey is more rewarding than that of a skeptic, it is through the wilderness that the nature of truth shows you its skin for the cutting.

But I have I failed to describe my experience, let me eagerly fail again:

I’m no more certain of where this is all headed than you are, but just as the form fits every function, I know that whatever it is, wherever we are being led to, is a place of much love.

And let me be an unconventional “evangelist”: The Way is to be found within you.

Nowhere else.

The path is your very life. To run away from your destiny is just to go back down the same road you came, for you never left it.

They may say I’m crazy, a phony, a weirdo. Let me be the first of many in the new century, a century that may turn up more miraculous than any of us half-expected.

The founder of new crop of weirdos and nuts, nutty to believe in the law of love, in miracles and in beauty of our natural selves.

I am no saint, by any means. I am as flawed as anybody else on earth and I don’t have all the answers.

But I can say this for certain: all is well. 

Much love

Ollin