As I slogged through the Inktober challenge, one ragged angel appeared in several drawings. Cigarette in hand, she dared me to include her, a half hidden smirk and unapologetic eyes piercing through a slim roil of smoke. She’s not the kind of angel you’d bring home to mama. Her presence asks for actions that are neither convienient, easy, nor comfortable, yet necessary.
My sister argues that guardian angels are not ephemeral beings of fluff and light, but regular people, who have pulled themselves from their comfort zones to be at the right place, at the right time for someone else, whom they have most likely never met. This showing up is not convenient, easy, or comfy, yet there they are.
They angel-up, and the Universe opens.
I think my sister may be on to something.
Maybe it’s the wild angels that are most needed now..