June 3, 2020

I apologize right up front if this essay offends anyone. It is never my intention to offend. Sometimes, however, I just can’t keep the truth inside.

The older I get, the more I understand that I don’t know a hell of a lot about a lot of things in this life.

But there are some things—just a few—that I do know quite a bit about.

I figure it’s the same for everyone, or at least those of us who live our lives honestly, and yes, with a bit of humility. Of course, we’ve all met people who believe they know everything, when we can clearly see that the truth is, they know very, very little. They’re an annoyance, but in positions of authority they can be quite dangerous. How dangerous, you may ask? Don’t make me go there. I’m sure if you think really, really hard, a name will come to mind that will prove my point.

Back to what I do know. Of course, I know how to write. I’ve written 63 novels at this point, all published by my publisher, Siren-Bookstrand. I’m currently working on title 64. As well, I have written an essay practically every Wednesday since November of 2006. It could be said by now that yes, I have an opinion about everything.

I know how to be a friend, a wife, a mother, a grandmother, and a great-grandmother.

That one right there—who I am to others—eclipses the first for importance and personal satisfaction. Just saying.

I know how to love, and I know how to forgive, and I know how to draw the bottom line below which I will not sink.

I know what it is to lose a child and a grandchild as well as my best friend and at this point in my life, every member of my birth family. Grief isn’t my friend, but it has been and will continue to be my ofttimes companion.

I know that I, and every other human being, every creature, every living organism on this planet we call earth, and even this planet itself were created by the same Creator, and in words that were once popular, He don’t make no junk. Period.

I know that when Jesus admonished us to love our neighbors as ourselves, He absolutely said that knowing our neighbors did not look like us or necessarily behave like us. After all, His Father had made all people and people are different from each other.

I know that right now, we are in the midst of a global pandemic, that people are getting sick and dying, and that this is not the time I would have chosen to protest the horrendous injustices committed for far too long and still being committed against so many people—people of color. But there are times when we are challenged to do the right thing even when it’s difficult, or dangerous. This, apparently, is one of those times.

Or perhaps more to the point, this is the time to do the right thing because of all the rest that surrounds us, and assails us, and tests us at this point in our lives. In other words, this is the time to act because of the difficult and the dangerous. 

Turbulent times are not a new concept for humanity to grapple with. Turbulent times without a strong leader to guide the people through—yeah, that’s perhaps a little different. But maybe that’s something that was necessary, too.

Because into the great void of missing leadership, other true leaders have emerged. They have stood tall and strong and have stepped into the breach, ready to lead, ready to do the right thing. What I’m seeing as I watch my television each night is chaos, and destruction and fire, but also phoenixes rising—stronger, brighter, and more just. I see people joining together, in one voice, defiant of those whose goal seems to be to seek the spotlight and the photo ops with no meaning or purpose except self-worship.

The image of Nero fiddling while Rome is burning is now complete.

It's my nature to try to express things in simple terms, so I can wrap my head around them better. Nero fiddling is one that works for me. So is an image of people coming together to try and build something vital and lasting, while being hampered by a buzzing, nattering “no-see-em” swamp bug, a bug that annoys and flits about, trying to distract the people from their righteous work.

We’ve all seen skits on our televisions, and it’s a great comedy routine, the hapless human trying to defeat the annoying insect. And what makes the shtick relevant, of course, is that every one of us identifies with the dilemma; and we each of us share in the victory when the insect is finally vanquished—no matter the cost.

Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury