McCartney Green's Blog, page 24

God, the Universe and Baby Birds - Indeed Working in Mysterious Ways

Woke up this morning with a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, like something horrible had happened or was about to happen. I didn't want to begin my day in a negative way so I immediately tried to quiet my mind. I pulled light through my body. For those who don’t know what that is, it is pulling the light of the Universe, the light of God, the light of Christ, the light of goodness and love and positivity through my body by envisioning it coming from the heavens, down to Earth, through the top of my head and through every cell in my body. It doesn’t really matter what name is given to this light, what matters is its effect on me which is usually empowering and calming.
This morning however, it did not feel calming. I was having a difficult time shaking this feeling of despair. So, I then prayed, and asked for assistance in changing my vibration. But when I rose and dressed, I was still feeling almost panicked.
I went about my usual morning activities and went outside to water my tomato plant and flowers. One of the plants I water is a large ‘Wondering Jew’ potted plant that sits under the eaves of my house just outside the sunroom. A few weeks ago I’d discovered a bird had built a nest in this pot under the leaves of the plant. Every morning, when I water the plant, the little bird flies out of the nest and then comes back when I walk away. I have peeked inside of the nest a few times and saw five or six beautiful dark blue eggs with white swirls. Today I peeked in again. . . and was horrified.
Apparently, the baby birds had hatched. And now, the nest, which was very deep, was filled with water and the baby birds were floating under the water, mouths gaping open, still…dead. Gasping, I dropped the hose and stood back, tears coming to my eyes immediately. I know it sounds silly, but the horror and despair I felt at that moment, knowing I’d killed those sweet new babies just overwhelmed me. 
I rushed into the house, crying to my husband about what I’d done.  He was slightly sympathetic, trying to convince me that it wasn’t my fault, that I didn’t realize they’d hatched. But all I could think was how stupid I was, that I should have been more careful, that I’d destroyed something beautiful, something innocent, I took away that mother’s current reason for being. If only I could take it all back and do it over again.  I knew it was silly. There are so many more serious things going down in the world right now to waste tears over a few baby birds. War, murder, children being hurt and abused, starvation, etc.. My mind went back to the bad feeling I’d started the day with and thought, my bad feelings are perpetuating! What else may go wrong? How do I stop this train?!
My son and granddaughter were here and after I’d cried about this for some time they decided to go out and see the tragic site firsthand. They came back in and reported that my original diagnosis was wrong. The birds were alive, breathing, sleeping, and whatever water had been in the nest had now drained away. It was almost too good to be true and at first I thought they were teasing me. But they had me go see for myself and I came back inside all smiles, a huge weight lifted off my chest. And for the next several hours, that wonderful feeling of relief and elation and joy and miracles and wonder kept coming back to me. And I realized, my prayer had been answered. The feeling of despair was gone. My vibration had indeed risen to soaring heights. Gratitude was back.  
I’d asked for help fully believing I’d get it. But I'd left my room feeling disappointed. Despite that lack of faith, the tiny bit I’d had in the asking saw me through. I am grateful for feeling connected. And I am grateful for the absolute knowledge, that when I appeal to the loving powers that be, I will receive what I need.

Walking With Granddaddy

Six months ago, my first husband, the enigma I was married to for 26 years, passed away.  It was a total shock for our entire family. Massive heart attack. He'd only just turned 60. He was deeply loved by me, by his seven children and his 10 grandchildren. His name was Terry Clements and he loved those grandchildren more than anything in this world.
He passed away on a Saturday morning while caring for three of the grandchildren, a 13-year-old young lady, a 4-year-old boy and a 7-year-old girl. Today, I want to share a short story told to me by that 7-year-old, whom we fondly call Laynah-bug. It was a rainy day and Laynah-bug and I were in the car chatting as we drove to pick up her little brother from his school. She brought me to tears. Here's what she said.

"I kinda like the rainy days. Granddaddy and I used to walk in the rain. Remember when we lived in that other apartment?  We would walk in the rain up to the dumpster. We liked the rain falling on us. We went when it was dark. We would throw away the trash and then go to the gas station. Granddaddy always got me a snack and a root beer. Always a root beer. Not ever anything else to drink. He got me different snacks. Sometimes popcorn or chips and sometimes donuts."She got quiet for a moment. Sighs."Yeah, that was always really fun....walking with Granddaddy."
 Walking with Granddaddy. He loved to walk. He loved rainy days. He loved sooo much.

Peace and Quiet... Or Is It Quiet and Peace?

First, I worked out. Then I mailed letters at the post office, stopped to get gas, deposited money at the bank, bought garden soil at Home Depot, rushed through the grocery store to get the fifteen items on the list and drove home. I pulled up in the driveway, opened my door, swung my legs out, and, because I was tired, just sat there a moment. And as I did, a bird flew across my line of vision.
I followed it with my eyes up to where it perched on a branch on the maple tree that grows in the center of our front yard. I was curious to see what kind of bird it was. A cardinal? A robin? Blue jay? No, it was just a brownish-gray colored bird, probably a brown thrasher since that’s the Georgia state bird. I mentally shrugged. Just a nondescript bird. Or was it?
At closer inspection it was really quite lovely. A longish tail. I’ve always thought birds with long tail feathers were pretty in the way I think horses with long manes are pretty. This bird also had some lovely black speckles on his breast. And then, my eye went past the bird to the brilliant blue sky in the background.
Why had I not noticed just how blue the sky was today? I smiled as I watched the pretty bird against the bright blue background. And my mind became quiet and something happened.
I felt the breeze blow. I heard the wind chimes tinkle that hung in that very same maple tree. I lifted my face up and smiled as I felt the warmth of the sun. And I simply listened. Really listened. I heard more birds, tweeting and chattering in that lovely, merry sort of way they have. It lifted my heart. I heard a dog bark from far away. Maybe at a mailman or maybe as it played with its owner or even from behind a fence as someone walked by.
I looked around me as I sat in the drivers seat with the car door open and my feet on the driveway. The pansies I’d planted last fall were coming back, bright and happy. The grass had greened up. A few big ol’ bumble bees were hovering over the lawn. This is nice, I thought. I love spring, I thought.  I closed my eyes briefly and took a moment to be grateful. And I could swear I felt a hand touch my head as the words, “You’re welcome,” drifted into my mind. As a lily might open to the sun, I felt my heart expand.
Breathing a deep sigh of peace, I stood, gathered my bags from the back seat and went into the house, rejuvenated and ready to sit and write and  share this tiny moment with the world.

First, I worked out. Then I mailed letters at the post of...

First, I worked out. Then I mailed letters at the post office, stopped to get gas, deposited money at the bank, bought garden soil at Home Depot, rushed through the grocery store to get the fifteen items on the list and drove home. I pulled up in the driveway, opened my door, swung my legs out, and, because I was tired, just sat there a moment. And as I did, a bird flew across my line of vision.

I followed it with my eyes up to where it perched on a branch on the maple tree that grows in the center of our front yard. I was curious to see what kind of bird it was. A cardinal? A robin? Blue jay? No, it was just a brownish-gray colored bird, probably a brown thrasher since that’s the Georgia state bird. I mentally shrugged. Just a nondescript bird. Or was it?

At closer inspection it was really quite lovely. A longish tail. I’ve always thought birds with long tail feathers were pretty in the way I think horses with long manes are pretty. This bird also had some lovely black speckles on his breast. And then, my eye went past the bird to the brilliant blue sky in the background.

Why had I not noticed just how blue the sky was today? I smiled as I watched the pretty bird against the bright blue background. And my mind became quiet and something happened.

I felt the breeze blow. I heard the wind chimes tinkle that hung in that very same maple tree. I lifted my face up and smiled as I felt the warmth of the sun. And I simply listened. Really listened. I heard more birds, tweeting and chattering in that lovely, merry sort of way they have. It lifted my heart. I heard a dog bark from far away. Maybe at a mailman or maybe as it played with its owner or even from behind a fence as someone walked by.

I looked around me as I sat in the drivers seat with the car door open and my feet on the driveway. The pansies I’d planted last fall were coming back, bright and happy. The grass had greened up. A few big ol’ bumble bees were hovering over the lawn. This is nice, I thought. I love spring, I thought.  I closed my eyes briefly and took a moment to be grateful. And I could swear I felt a hand touch my head as the words, “You’re welcome,” drifted into my mind. As a lily might open to the sun, I felt my heart expand.

Breathing a deep sigh of peace, I stood, gathered my bags from the back seat and went into the house, rejuvenated and ready to sit and write and  share this tiny moment with the world.

Rising Up

I’ve heard some talk about rising up.
To overcome.
To accept a challenge.
To refuse defeat.

I’ve heard some talk about being strong.
Strong enough,
To overcome.
To accept a challenge.
To refuse defeat.

I’ve heard some talk about enduring.
Enduring long enough,
To overcome.
To accept a challenge.
To refuse defeat.

My own being screams at me about rising up, being strong, enduring.
And I will,
Overcome the pain.
Accept all challenges.
Absolutely refuse defeat.

Fly With Me

Click on the link for the 30 second video     Fly With Me

What About Real Men and Domestic Violence? (Post 8 of the What About Series)

Even though I write fiction, my books lean toward women having to deal with serious issues and I am an advocate for the empowerment of women. If you haven't read the page on my website (www.mccartneygreen.com) titled "Did you know," here's a few statistics from that page. 
 
  Every 9 seconds a woman is battered in the United StatesNearly 1 in 3 women experience domestic violence in their lifetimeAs many as 324,000 women each year experience intimate partner violence during their pregnancyOne in three teenagers report knowing a friend or peer who has been hit, punched, kicked, slapped, choked or physically hurt by their partnerThe leading cause of death in pregnant women is murderSome of these facts above to me, are amazing. It is also amazing to me that this violence against women still exists in this day and age. But I can attest it does still exist. This blog post is an older piece I wrote years ago that I've updated to repost. When I posted it back in 2008, I received hate male from men. I admit, their hateful, taunting words were harsh and frightening. After reading their words, my hands physically shook. If they had that affect on me, imagine how they affect the women in their lives. When will these men learn that real men don't hurt women?

I've read so much on parenting forums where they ask for advice on what are important things to teach their children. Well, here is something important we can teach them; let's teach little boys to respect, care for and protect the females in their lives. And no, it's not the same the other way around. Men are not physically vulnerable like women. We're talking science. We're talking physiology. Women, argue all you want, we are vulnerable and at the physical mercy of men at all times.

I've always loved the martial arts but I'm not fooled into believing women who learn self-defense are invulnerable. The strongest women are still not as strong as the weakest of men. I know many who don't want to believe that, but it's true. At one time in my life, (in my late 30's, early 40's,) I was running six miles a day and I was into bodybuilding and could bench 200 lbs., leg press either 425 or 335 lbs. (Can't remember exactly, I'm old, lol) I was strong and agile and yet, in a wrestling match, my husband could hold me down easily with one hand. Of course, neither one of us were trying to actually hurt the other one, but if we had been trying, I'm pretty sure he would've been the victor.

There was a young Georgian woman, Meredith Emerson, back in 2008, who was murdered on a hiking trail on the Appalachian Trail.  This girl was in top physical shape and a martial artist. Her murderer, Gary Hilton, was a skinny 61 year old. Below is a portion of an article about the murder which illustrates my point. Brace yourself before you read the article. It's violent. By RHONDA COOK, CHRISTIAN BOONE
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 03/23/08
Meredith Emerson was described as "feisty" by her roommate and close friend. Her Judo teacher said at 5 feet 4 inches and 120 pounds, she "trained with us like she lived every day � hard and with everything she had."
Hilton, 61, told investigators he abducted her because she was a woman.
Easy prey, he figured.
'Wouldn't stop fighting'
Both were with their dogs when they met near the Appalachian Trail in Union County on New Year's Day. For a time they walked together, but, as Hilton later admitted, he couldn't keep up with her and fell behind. He intercepted her on her way down, producing a military-style knife and demanding her ATM card.
Without pause, Emerson fought back.
"The bayonet is probably still up there," Hilton told Bridges. "I lost control, and ... she fought. And as I read in the paper, she's a martial artist."
Emerson, who held a green belt and a blue belt in two different martial arts, grabbed the blade.
He countered with a baton. She grabbed it, too. They stepped off the trail and fell down a slope, leaving the weapons behind.
"I had to hand-fight her," Hilton said. "She wouldn't stop. She wouldn't stop fighting," he said. "And yelling at the same time. ... So I needed to both control her and silence her."
He kept punching her, so hard it left both her eyes black and may have fractured her nose. Hilton said his hand was broken by the blows. He figured she had worn down, and they moved farther off the trail.

My point in sharing this article is, with all her fighting and "feisty-ness" she lost. My point is, other than a few exceptions, the strongest women are weaker than the weakest men. So we as a civilized country, need to be teaching our youth to honor, cherish, protect and defend our women. Ladies don't get all huffy. I didn't say control. I didn't say silence. I only say defend and protect.
Okay, so I've put it out there. It sounds like I'm betraying women to say that they're not equal to men. If we're being honest, then I have to say that physically...they're not! Stop fooling yourselves. I'm talking science and physiology. Does that mean I think you shouldn't learn to defend yourself? NO! We need every edge we can get. Learn the martial arts. Learn how to use weapons effectively. Get a dog. Get in shape. Run, get strong, be a warrior.

However, just as important, let's make it a point to teach our male children to respect and protect the females in their lives. Let's let them know when they're little that hurting a female is not big, or strong, or manly. It's cowardly. It's pathetic. The most powerful, manliest, sexiest men are the ones who are strong enough to be loving, compassionate, and protective of those they love. Tenderness is not a weakness. It is a strength, e.g. Eric Kino in Dandelions Never Die.   

What About "Pretty" Characters in Romance Novels? (Post 7 of the What About Series)

 Okay, so, yes, I'm lightening up. Today I will cover a subject that is not so serious. However, if it looks like the world is coming to an end, then I may have to write about survival techniques, lol.
About pretty characters. I am speaking of the heroine and hero in romance novels. Some have suggested that my characters not always be so darn good-looking. They suggest I be more realistic. Describe people as they really are today. Not all women are gorgeous with amazing hair, eyes the color of the sea, and pouty lips the color and softness of rose petals. Not all men have six-pack abs, a square jaw, a broad chest, narrow waist and are strong yet sensitive. Really? Well darn. 
"They" say I should write the characters more realistically so that normal regular type people can identify with them. Well, I've read some of those types of romance novels, where the heroine is a little overweight and not quite sure of herself and the man is, (sometimes severely) flawed in some male type way. And I have to say, I didn't enjoy them nearly as much as the ones where the characters are simply lovely. (And hey, don't get me wrong. I do not look down on people who are overweight. I've struggled with my weight ever since giving birth to 7 children.) In my books, I like, no, I prefer the fantasy world. Not that my characters don't have flaws. They do. One is spoiled. One is a bitch. One makes stupid decisions. One is a potty mouth. Etc., etc.. Yet most of their flaws are usually endearing. But I enjoy the characters being lovely to look at. ;) Besides, these are fiction novels. The circumstances my characters find themselves in are extraordinary, and so my characters must be extraordinary.
Maybe not everyone looks like the characters I write. But I think they do. I see beautiful people everyday, both strangers and people I know. My own daughters and daughters-in-law could pose for the covers of my novels. In fact, one has! Maybe I see beauty in people when they don't see it themselves. Of course, I see most everyone as beautiful. Beauty really is NOT skin deep. All I know is, I like to "see" the people in my novels as beautiful. And though they may be flawed, they are and can be beautiful both inside and out. I think I equate love with beauty, therefore the women in my stories are always beautiful in their own way. Some more than others, still, I see them as beautiful. Love is beautiful.   I'm all about love. I guess that's why I write about it. Love relationships. Love between men and women, yes, but my books also address many other types of love. Just a few of them are: the love of a son shown for his father by striving to be like him, the love of children for their mother, shown in the way they speak to her and try to protect her, the love for children by the offering of a parent's very life for them, the love between real friends, shown by loyalty, and even love of the earth, shown by stopping to appreciate it's awesomeness.
Rest assured. My novels will continue to contain beautiful people. They will also continue to address complex subject matter. And hopefully, when a reader closes the book at the end, the story will have made her feel like she can accomplish anything! Do anything! Be anything! And maybe even help each reader to know that she....or he.... is absolutely beautiful.  

What about William and Kate and all this Royalty Stuff? Do you believe in Royalty? [Post 6 of the What About Series]

Royalty is not my cup of tea... pun intended. I may be about to step on some toes, but this is a subject I feel passionate about. From the time of my childhood I have been acutely aware of certain injustices that humanity seems to simply accept. Slavery in its day, is one of those things. But that's not today's subject. Royalty is.
The idea of "royalty" really bugs me. Back on April 29th of 2011, when all the hoopla about the "royal wedding" was blasting at us from every media venue, and then worse, when the "royal couple" came to visit America, I found myself cringing, rolling my eyes, shaking my head, and of course, spouting my words of wisdom at my only audience... my husband, bless his heart. Ditto when the "royal" baby was born. Actually, every time they are mentioned, which more often than not has something to do with the dress Kate was wearing, or like just today, the necklace she wore, I can't keep my eyes from making the circle.

I tried hard to understand the obsession with royalty. Even in America, it's been ingrained in us. Maybe it's the fairy stories from when we were young... or all those adorable Disney princesses, who could never marry a commoner... the guy had to be turned into a prince in order for them to be together. I write contemporary romance, but I do love to read the Regency novels as well. Lately, however, because I have pulled my head out of the sand, as I read those Regency novels, the idea of royalty becomes even more absurd.

I have never felt anyone, not one being or entity on this planet is any better than another. There are some who are more intelligent than others, some who have amazing talents, some who have demonstrated great compassion, some who have worked hard at producing value and some who are lazy and haven't accomplished much. The only difference I can see in these individuals is that some are more evolved than others. Some are awakened and some are not. Some are born into circumstances that give them every opportunity and some are born into trash heaps and every scenario in between. Some have done much with very little and some have done little with very much. But NONE are better than, more important than or more worthy individuals than any others simply due to their circumstance of birth. 
Some are more deserving of respect. I know I have a great deal of respect for those who have produced wonderful values, e.g. great works of art, beautiful music, uplifting books, amazing movies and plays, and innovative consumer needs. I am inspired by those who have overcome great odds with a great attitude. I also have respect for those who have pursued perfection whether it be in their bodies, their sport, their music or just their everyday life in small ways. However, a person's circumstance of birth never, NEVER, makes them better or worse than any other human being. Thus, the idea of royalty is absurd.

A child born into wealth is not better... in any way... than a child born in, let's say, the slums of New York. A child raised by great educators who focus on his intellect is no better than a child whose parents have to both work and therefore is literally raised by uneducated daycare workers. The tenth child born to a starving African women is no less important than the first child born to a prominent football legend. Surely, we have evolved enough to realize this. I feel most would agree with me so far... except those who would be feeling threatened that giving other people importance would take away their own. (The opposite of that is actually true, but that is another subject in itself.) Okay, so what am I getting at?I'm almost there. So, when I meet someone on the street, I may not owe them respect, for that has to be earned, but because we are all connected I can greet this person with courtesy. Courtesy is all I owe them. I owe them this courtesy because you should treat people how you would like to be treated and I would personally like to be treated with simple common courtesy. I don't demand respect from others, only courtesy. Now I believe we should show this common courtesy to all. I hope I am honest enough with myself that I would be just as courteous to a homeless man as I would to the Queen of England. And this is where I will begin to step on toes. The idea of royalty is most affronting to me. The idea that someone is better than others or deserves more respect than anyone else due merely to their circumstance of birth is absolutely absurd. The idea of royalty is absurd. If royalty were to have any credence it would be based on accomplishments, not birth. You want royalty? How about Beethoven, Mozart, Rembrandt, Michelangelo, Leonardo DaVinci? Even better than those, are the people who are heroic in your everyday lives, like some of the mothers and fathers, doctors and nurses, soldiers, firemen, etc., etc..  They represent more “royalty” than any king or queen.

Back when the Obamas visited the Queen in April, 2009, one of the newscasts covering this event listed the rules of protocol one must follow in visiting the queen. Here are some along with my running commentary:

You mustn't speak unless spoken to. This is the number one cardinal rule.

Puleez. I am not a child, (not that we should apply this rule to our children either.) I will speak whenever I feel the urge. Again, I have no problem with common courtesy, but my right to speak is innate.

When addressing royalty for the first time, use the highest official address which applies, such as “Your Majesty for the Queen” or “Your Royal Highness” for a prince; afterwards use sir or ma'am.

A silly request made by one unsure of their worth. That is like someone with a PHD demanding you address them as "Doctor." Ego anyone?

When meeting the queen, women should curtsy, men should nod their heads.

Most greetings in every culture imply a namaste’ of sorts. The light in me acknowledges the light in you. I have no problem with greeting someone in the fashion to which they are accustomed. For example, if an Asian man bows to me, I’m happy to bow back. If a Frenchman kisses me on each cheek, I’m happy to oblige. If an American woman offers her hand, I’m happy to take it. If someone is happy to meet me and offers a hug, that’s cool with me. And if the queen curtsies to me, I’m happy to reciprocate. Or... if I curtsy to her, I expect her to reciprocate. Simple courtesy from one mere human to another. But shall I bow to her because she is "royalty?" It won't happen. Not from me.

If the Royal person offers a hand, the handshake should be short and not hard.

More silliness. And the following are so absurd and silly, they don’t even deserve a single response.

Should something drop during dinner do not say a word, someone will retrieve it quietly and without fanfare.

During meals, the Queen eats first and when she stops the others at the table stop. Eat what is served and do not request anything more or less.

Allow the Queen to leave the room first; backs should never be turned toward the Queen, unless it absolutely cannot be helped.
Do not go to the restroom during a meal unless it is an absolute, have to go situation. Discreetly ask where the lavatory or loo is located and make it fast. It is best to cross the legs and suffer through if possible.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Although there are many more do’s and don’ts in the world of royalty, the idea is obvious that the Queen sets the tone and she is to be respected to the nth degree.

Why is she deserving of my respect? Because of her blood line? Because of her amazing accomplishments?

While it is true that some of the more obnoxious protocols are fading, (I’d hate to know what those were,) the Queen is still the Queen and demands the proper treatment from all who grace her presence.

Grace her presence? Grace... her presence? I shot the clerk?

It blows me away that in this day and age we give credence to this behavior in any way. Some say, well, it’s just their culture, you have to understand their culture. Sorry, that explanation doesn’t get it. It was the culture of the Egyptians, the Romans, the Confederate States (and many others too numerable to mention,) to own slaves. And that wasn’t right either... and yes, it’s all the same. The people who owned slaves thought that by their birthright of race or wealth, they were better than another race to the point of taking their freedom. The people who believe they are “royalty” because of a circumstance of birth are similar because they are sporting the same ideology... better by birth.

Okay, that being said, I am certainly not promoting any uprising in any country. Violence to do away with royalty is not the answer. Teaching, those who will be taught, learning when we are ready, and asking each individual to awaken is all that is required. Thus, the purpose of writing on this subject.

Now, I’m sure Elizabeth Windsor is probably a very nice person. Well, I’m not sure since I’ve never met her, but I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. (Another courtesy.) Pushing all conspiracy theories aside, she was raised with certain ideas and had all this royalty garbage pumped into her head since birth. Wouldn't it be cool if she could now see and admit how absolutely absurd it is to think she is any better than anyone else? Elizabeth Windsor could make a huge difference if she were to suddenly declare all this royalty stuff “hogwash,” kick up her heels and join in the fun of being merely human. Wouldn’t that be a trip? And certainly, the Brits should be able to see the fatuity of thinking their queen is better than them. She isn’t. We are all royalty, or none are royalty. I realize that some of the citizens of Great Britain, or other countries who support royalty, may feel insulted by this view. Take a deep breath. I mean no insult. I have great love. Love for ALL people. 
It may sound like I am thinking as an American and just don't understand. Oh, I understand. Americans not only worship British royalty, but they have their own royalty. Celebrities. Not all Americans. I and many I know worship no "celebrity." We don't believe in "celebrity" any more than "royalty." Meeting a famous movie star would not send me into bouts of not being able to speak or begging for autographs. My heroes are the regular people who do big things. And I realize that not all Brits, not all Norwegians, not all Cambodians, etc., worship their kings and queens.

I suppose my point in writing this, other than venting my frustrations, is to ask people to stop and think before following blindly the idea of royalty. You may find it interesting to follow the lives of Kate and William and that's cool. Whatever floats your boat. Just try to remember that nothing makes them any more special than anyone else. The circumstances of one's birth gives them no more importance than any other individual, nor does it make one any less. It’s what you do with what you get that commands respect. Live as an inspiration.

What about William and Kate and all that Royalty Crap? Give Me a Break...please [Post 6 of the What About Series]

Royalty is not my cup of tea... pun intended. I may be about to step on some toes, but this is a subject I feel passionate about. From the time of my childhood I have been acutely aware of certain injustices that humanity seems to simply accept. Slavery in its day, is one of those things. But that's not today's subject. Royalty is.
The idea of "royalty" really bugs me. Back on April 29th of 2011, when all the hoopla about the "royal wedding" was blasting at us from every media venue, and then worse, when the "royal couple" came to visit America, I found myself cringing, rolling my eyes, shaking my head, and of course, spouting my words of wisdom at my only audience... my husband, bless his heart. Ditto when the "royal" baby was born. Actually, every time they are mentioned, which more often than not has something to do with the dress Kate was wearing, or like just today, the necklace she wore, I can't keep my eyes from making the circle.

I tried hard to understand the obsession with royalty. Even in America, it's been ingrained in us. Maybe it's the fairy stories from when we were young... or all those adorable Disney princesses, who could never marry a commoner... the guy had to be turned into a prince in order for them to be together. I write contemporary romance, but I do love to read the Regency novels as well. Lately, however, because I have pulled my head out of the sand, as I read those Regency novels, the idea of royalty becomes even more absurd.

I have never felt anyone, not one being or entity on this planet is any better than another. There are some who are more intelligent than others, some who have amazing talents, some who have demonstrated great compassion, some who have worked hard at producing value and some who are lazy and haven't accomplished much. The only difference I can see in these individuals is that some are more evolved than others. Some are awakened and some are not. Some are born into circumstances that give them every opportunity and some are born into trash heaps and every scenario in between. Some have done much with very little and some have done little with very much. But NONE are better than, more important than or more worthy individuals than any others simply due to their circumstance of birth. 
Some are more deserving of respect. I know I have a great deal of respect for those who have produced wonderful values, e.g. great works of art, beautiful music, uplifting books, amazing movies and plays, and innovative consumer needs. I am inspired by those who have overcome great odds with a great attitude. I also have respect for those who have pursued perfection whether it be in their bodies, their sport, their music or just their everyday life in small ways. However, a person's circumstance of birth never, NEVER, makes them better or worse than any other human being. Thus, the idea of royalty is absurd.

A child born into wealth is not better... in any way... than a child born in, let's say, the slums of New York. A child raised by great educators who focus on his intellect is no better than a child whose parents have to both work and therefore is literally raised by uneducated daycare workers. The tenth child born to a starving African women is no less important than the first child born to a prominent football legend. Surely, we have evolved enough to realize this. I feel most would agree with me so far... except those who would be feeling threatened that giving other people importance would take away their own. (The opposite of that is actually true, but that is another subject in itself.) Okay, so what am I getting at?
I'm almost there. So, when I meet someone on the street, I may not owe them respect, for that has to be earned, but because we are all connected I can greet this person with courtesy. Courtesy is all I owe them. I owe them this courtesy because you should treat people how you would like to be treated and I would personally like to be treated with simple common courtesy. I don't demand respect from others, only courtesy. Now I believe we should show this common courtesy to all. I hope I am honest enough with myself that I would be just as courteous to a homeless man as I would to the Queen of England. And this is where I will begin to step on toes. The idea of royalty is most affronting to me. The idea that someone is better than others or deserves more respect than anyone else due merely to their circumstance of birth is absolutely absurd. The idea of royalty is absurd. If royalty were to have any credence it would be based on accomplishments, not birth. You want royalty? How about Beethoven, Mozart, Rembrandt, Michelangelo, Leonardo DaVinci? Even better than those, are the people who are heroic in your everyday lives, like some of the mothers and fathers, doctors and nurses, soldiers, firemen, etc., etc..  They represent more “royalty” than any king or queen.

Back when the Obamas visited the Queen in April, 2009, one of the newscasts covering this event listed the rules of protocol one must follow in visiting the queen. Here are some along with my running commentary:

You mustn't speak unless spoken to. This is the number one cardinal rule.

Puleez. I am not a child, (not that we should apply this rule to our children either.) I will speak whenever I feel the urge. Again, I have no problem with common courtesy, but my right to speak is innate.

When addressing royalty for the first time, use the highest official address which applies, such as “Your Majesty for the Queen” or “Your Royal Highness” for a prince; afterwards use sir or ma'am.

A silly request made by one unsure of their worth. That is like someone with a PHD demanding you address them as "Doctor." Ego anyone?

When meeting the queen, women should curtsy, men should nod their heads.

Most greetings in every culture imply a namaste’ of sorts. The light in me acknowledges the light in you. I have no problem with greeting someone in the fashion to which they are accustomed. For example, if an Asian man bows to me, I’m happy to bow back. If a Frenchman kisses me on each cheek, I’m happy to oblige. If an American woman offers her hand, I’m happy to take it. If someone is happy to meet me and offers a hug, that’s cool with me. And if the queen curtsies to me, I’m happy to reciprocate. Or... if I curtsy to her, I expect her to reciprocate. Simple courtesy from one mere human to another. But shall I bow to her because she is "royalty?" It won't happen. Not from me.

If the Royal person offers a hand, the handshake should be short and not hard.

More silliness. And the following are so absurd and silly, they don’t even deserve a single response.

Should something drop during dinner do not say a word, someone will retrieve it quietly and without fanfare.

During meals, the Queen eats first and when she stops the others at the table stop. Eat what is served and do not request anything more or less.

Allow the Queen to leave the room first; backs should never be turned toward the Queen, unless it absolutely cannot be helped.
Do not go to the restroom during a meal unless it is an absolute, have to go situation. Discreetly ask where the lavatory or loo is located and make it fast. It is best to cross the legs and suffer through if possible.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Although there are many more do’s and don’ts in the world of royalty, the idea is obvious that the Queen sets the tone and she is to be respected to the nth degree.

Why is she deserving of my respect? Because of her blood line? Because of her amazing accomplishments?

While it is true that some of the more obnoxious protocols are fading, (I’d hate to know what those were,) the Queen is still the Queen and demands the proper treatment from all who grace her presence.

Grace her presence? Grace... her presence? I shot the clerk?

It blows me away that in this day and age we give credence to this behavior in any way. Some say, well, it’s just their culture, you have to understand their culture. Sorry, that explanation doesn’t get it. It was the culture of the Egyptians, the Romans, the Confederate States (and many others too numerable to mention,) to own slaves. And that wasn’t right either... and yes, it’s all the same. The people who owned slaves thought that by their birthright of race or wealth, they were better than another race to the point of taking their freedom. The people who believe they are “royalty” because of a circumstance of birth are similar because they are sporting the same ideology... better by birth.

Okay, that being said, I am certainly not promoting any uprising in any country. Violence to do away with royalty is not the answer. Teaching, those who will be taught, learning when we are ready, and asking each individual to awaken is all that is required. Thus, the purpose of writing on this subject.

Now, I’m sure Elizabeth Windsor is probably a very nice person. Well, I’m not sure since I’ve never met her, but I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. (Another courtesy.) Pushing all conspiracy theories aside, she was raised with certain ideas and had all this royalty garbage pumped into her head since birth. Wouldn't it be cool if she could now see and admit how absolutely absurd it is to think she is any better than anyone else? Elizabeth Windsor could make a huge difference if she were to suddenly declare all this royalty stuff “hogwash,” kick up her heels and join in the fun of being merely human. Wouldn’t that be a trip? And certainly, the Brits should be able to see the fatuity of thinking their queen is better than them. She isn’t. We are all royalty, or none are royalty. I realize that some of the citizens of Great Britain, or other countries who support royalty, may feel insulted by this view. Take a deep breath. I mean no insult. I have great love. Love for ALL people. 
It may sound like I am thinking as an American and just don't understand. Oh, I understand. Americans not only worship British royalty, but they have their own royalty. Celebrities. Not all Americans. I and many I know worship no "celebrity." We don't believe in "celebrity" any more than "royalty." Meeting a famous movie star would not send me into bouts of not being able to speak or begging for autographs. My heroes are the regular people who do big things. And I realize that not all Brits, not all Norwegians, not all Cambodians, etc., worship their kings and queens.

I suppose my point in writing this, other than venting my frustrations, is to ask people to stop and think before following blindly the idea of royalty. You may find it interesting to follow the lives of Kate and William and that's cool. Whatever floats your boat. Just try to remember that nothing makes them any more special than anyone else. The circumstances of one's birth gives them no more importance than any other individual, nor does it make one any less. It’s what you do with what you get that commands respect. Live as an inspiration.