MY GUARDIAN ANGEL’S LIST OF BLESSINGS: PART 1: CLOSE ENCOUNTER AMIDST COVID-19 PANDEMIC

Summary

While Corona Virus Disease 19 (COVID-19) pandemic has brought disruption in our family and work, it has also provided ample time to reflect on our lives while working from and/or staying at home. One afternoon, my guardian angel visited me unannounced while I was feeling depressed for being a failure in my twilight years. To argue that I was wrong, he handed me a list of my 10 incredible blessings. I am sharing my close encounter with him, and the eventual gentleman’s deal that we have agreed at.

The advent of COVID-19 pandemic has provided me with an extended time to reflect on my life: to evaluate the past in relation to the present, as well as assess whatever the future may hold. A few months back, at the early onset of COVID-19 pandemic, I was uncharacteristically left alone in the house. As I rummaged through my messy files, I inadvertently came across my written notes and old computer print outs of my life plan.

Included here is a list of what I have always wanted to be and/or acquire before my 50^th birthday. Among many others in the list are the following: (1) own a sprawling mansion; (2) drive a glistening Mercedes Benz sports car; (3) be a dashing millionaire; (4) wear a platinum-plated Rolex watch; and, (5) bask in sunlight aboard a luxury yacht. What have I achieved so far given that I shall turn 59 years old by 24 January 2020?

Nothing spectacular. In terms of material wealth, I have only managed to construct a small house in Puerto Princesa City, Palawan, Philippines and own a second-hand Kia car. We have acquired just a few hundred square meters of residential lots and we have only a little savings. Up until recently, I was still wearing a stainless steel Seiko watch that I have purchased while in transit in Hong Kong 15 years ago! My life story has been a very ordinary one – a mediocre, at most. Hence, I could come up with only one startling conclusion: ‘I am a bloody failure in my twilight years!’

As I started to brood, feeling miserable, I heard a roaring sound over the roof. Broom!!!! Broom!!!! Broom!!!! The sound was like a huge revving motorcycle, something like that of Hagrid’s 1959 Triumph Bonneville. (J.K. Rowling, the author of best-selling Harry Potter series, describes Rubeus Hagrid as a half-giant with shaggy hair who serves as the Hogwarts’s Gamekeeper). Caught by surprise, I was left dumbfounded, thinking that the house’s roof might suddenly collapse.

Then, there was a hazy multi-colored smoke that was released, rather methodically and very slowly, similar to the ones used in live musical concerts. I shook my head wandering if the so-called ‘The Rapture’ – the eschatological concept about the Lord’s Second Coming – had indeed begun. As the smoke gradually cleared, as if I was watching a science fiction movie, a mesmerizing figure appeared right in front of me. I am referring to the ever-familiar, but nearly forgotten godly being: my guardian angel. (Yes, believe it or not, angels still do exist even in this trying time of COVID-19 pandemic.)

“Good afternoon, Professor!” he said jovially. “What are you doing here?” I asked in a rather sarcastic tone. “Are you scared of COVID-19 and you want to be quarantined?” “No. We are angels and we are immune to the ailments inflicted by viruses,” he casually replied. “Then, why are you here after being an absentee for a long time?”

He then slowly approached me until our intently gaze met, so close that we literally saw each other eye-ball to eye-ball. “It’s because I need to remind you to be not so fast with your unwarranted conclusion. In fact, for a seasoned researcher like you, I am astonished that you have based your flimsy conclusion from an incomplete set of facts or information!”

“Do you want to rub salt to my misery? Or you just want to annoy me, as usual?” I posed the questions acerbically. What other conclusion must I arrive at rather than this statement: “Michael Pido has miserably failed in his twilight years!” He shook his head continuously. “That is the part that I vehemently disagree with,” he responded. “And why do you disagree?” I asked again. At that point in time, I was already irritated.

He paused briefly, then continued talking. “Because my conclusion is exactly the reverse of what you have arrived at. That is, “Michael Pido is an incredibly blessed person!” I was appalled hearing such a contrary statement.

“Up until now, I didn’t realize that angels could be so utterly dumb, just like you. Or perhaps, you are just trying to be politically-correct just to appease me”. He just shrugged his shoulders rather forcefully, and in the process, a few small feathers were detached and fell to the tiles of the floor. “No further argument, Professor Pido. I just want to give you this paper,” he said. Then, he handed me a sort of parchment paper with a list of items (see Box 1).

At that juncture, I did not even bother to read its content at all. “What is this paper all about,” I queried him. “It is a list of Michael Pido’s 10 blessings,” he responded while fiddling with my Parker pen. I mean at least 10 blessings: the minimum. “Are you trying to amuse me or insult me?” I replied in a rather exasperated tone. “You very well know that I am a failure in seeking the material wealth and the fame that I have always wanted. What blessings are you talking about?”

As he walked back-and-forth, still fiddling with my Parker pen, he asked me in a very neutral tone, “Could you please describe to me what being blessed means to you?” I did not even bother to compose my thoughts.

“Let me describe to you what being blessed means to me,” I replied back. “On a sunny and windy weekend, I would bask in sunlight aboard my luxury yacht. I am of course wearing my custom-built, platinum-plated Rolex watch. I shall do my favorite pastime – sports fishing – together with my close, and equally rich business associates. Meantime, my horde of staff and assistants would be around to take care of whatever I need.”

I continued my description. “When I am done, the yacht would go back and embark on my privately-constructed port. Parked outside is my glistening Mercedes Benz sports car. (Incidentally, Mercedes Benz is the car that has fascinated me the most and its precise German engineering –although the British Rolls Royce and the Italian Ferrari are comparable.) There, my uniformed chauffeur shall drive and bring me to the penthouse of my towering business establishment – remember, I am a dashing millionaire. My private chef is waiting there to serve my favorite oriental and western dishes. I shall savor the most expensive wines and spirits throughout the course of my meal. Come coffee and dessert time, my chief finance officer and his team of accountants and market analysts shall arrive. We shall then discuss my ever-growing financial investments throughout the world. That, to me, is the perfect blessing.”

Clap! Clap! Clap! He clapped three times, as he wiggled his feathery wings, then blurted out these words: “Bravo, bravo, Professor Pido! That is an outstanding description of your perfect blessing. And if I may add, you have a flair for an oratorical delivery of your narrative. Unfortunately, that’s just a dream. An illusion, a mirage so to speak. It’s not gonna happen.”

His mocking words had made me feel even more depressed (Figure 1). “If I could not achieve that fame and fortune in my lifetime, then why the fuck are you arguing that I am blessed. And you are even boasting that I have 10 blessings!” Then, I added these insulting words: “You are a damn idiot – you are nothing but a despicable feathery cunt!”

Gradually, he put his right hand’s forefinger in front of his lips, signaling me to be silent. Then, in a very soft voice he uttered these words that were barely audible: “Watch your language. You are hurling profanities that are unbecoming of a high-ranking professor. Definitely, The Almighty would not be pleased with these actuations.”

“You have been earning too many demerits in your Logbook of Life,” he continued. “At the rate you are going, you would be extremely lucky to even land in purgatory. As your guardian angel, I would be quite disappointed if ever you will end up in hell. I can assure you that Dante Alighieri’s description of inferno or hell in his book Divine Comedy is very real. Be very afraid of eternal damnation while being burned in hot, sulfuric fire. Remember SO₂ as the chemical formula of sulfur dioxide – when sulfur reacts with oxygen – in your college chemistry class? You will be a subject to eternal damnation in inextinguishable flames; I need not remind you that it also smells like rotten eggs. Thus, you better cool down first so you can comprehend better my point of view.”

Then, he continued his treatise. “Life has very few fundamental ‘truism’ that you have to live with. Take them, or leave them. The choice is entirely up to you. And one of that truism is “You cannot have it all!”

After a deep breath, I delivered my counter argument. “Why can’t one have it all?” I argued. “Rod Stewart claimed that some guys have all the luck.” He interjected quickly. “I know that you like that flamboyant English rock star,” he responded with wrinkles of exasperation shown in his forehead. “You ought to understand that having all the luck and actually getting all that you want are two different things. You can never have it all. Simply told: nobody gets all or 100% of what he wants. Nobody has ever done that. Everyone has at least one regret – a misgiving, if that is the correct English expression.”

My guardian angel then paused for about a minute, never losing an eye contact with me for even a second. Then, he spoke at a great length again. “Let me give you just two examples of outstanding athletes. First, let me cite your namesake, Michael Jordan. He is the first black American billionaire and arguably the topmost basketball superstar of all time. Don’t you think he is not regretting his decision to come back to the NBA in 2001, for the third time, this time with the Washington Wizards instead of the Chicago Bulls.”

Jordan was so confident that he could still bring a team to a championship at the age of 38. “His two-year stint with the Washington Wizards, however, could either be described as disastrous – if not, an above average performance at most. He ended his basketball career with the Washington Wizards not with a bang, but a whimper. I am not even including here the strained relationships with his teammates.”

He then slumped on my swivel chair as he talked. “If he could pull back the hands of time, Jordan would have gladly settled for ending his illustrious career with the sixth game of the championship match between the Chicago Bulls and the Utah Jazz on 14 June 1998.”

He continued lecturing me, as if I am his dumb student. Quite a reversal of fortune. “Just a quick recap. His team was trailing by one point, with 18 seconds to go, and Utah Jazz had the advantage of ball possession. Karl Malone was dribbling the ball in the low post, slowly backing near the goal, while Dennis Rodman (Chicago Bulls’ best low post defender called ‘The Worm’) was closely guarding him. Malone was simply using the clock and baiting Rodman to foul him so he could shoot two free throw to pad up the lead of Utah Jazz.”

The Chicago Bulls was in a precarious situation. It had two daunting tasks to accomplish before the clock time expires: (1) steal the ball; and (2) actually shoot the ball. Otherwise, Utah Jazz would force a deciding seventh game. As if animated, he continued. “Out of nowhere, Jordan did a double team. And with cunning speed and creativity, he poked the ball from the dribbling Malone and completed the steal. Afterwards, Jordan ran with the ball up court, then shot the championship point while being defended by his erstwhile nemesis, Bryon Russell. The rest is history: Jordan as the hero was declared as the Most Valuable Player and Chicago Bulls accomplished its sixth championship, the second of its three-peat record.”

Shaquille O’Neal, who won championships with Kobe Bryant with Los Angeles Lakers and later became a popular NBA commentator called Jordan’s championship shot as a fairy tale ending. “Yet Jordan let go of such perfect ending and decided to play with the Washington Wizards, believing that he was still the best and that father time had not caught up with him yet. Don’t you think he is not regretting that decision now?”

He then unhurriedly walked behind me. I turned around in an easy-going manner so I could catch up with him. “Let me continue my narrative,” he said. “The second case is about Roger Federer, the Swiss Maestro, who is universally regarded as the greatest tennis player of all time. You were following the 14 July 2019 Wimbledon Tennis Championship game in your laptop. It was a very high-level and extremely-intense game, which many consider to be the best-ever Wimbledon Championship Match. The two adversaries are almost equally matched in terms of skills and statistical records.”

He then described the heart-wrenching ending. “Federer had two championship points against Novak Djokovic, a.k.a. ‘The Joker’. And mind you, he was serving the ball; he had control of the situation. He had two golden opportunities to beat the Serbian, but, in the end, he was not able to convert the crucial point when it mattered the most. Call it luck, destiny or whatever, but The Joker literally snatched from the Swiss Maestro that glistening Gentlemen’s Singles Trophy. Don’t you think Federer is not regretting it – if not grieving until now – for what he could have done differently for such missed golden opportunity?”

My guardian angel looked at me more intently with a penetrating gaze. It was as if he was appraising my very soul. “In short, both Jordan and Federer never achieved all that they have ever wanted in life. Jordan did not get his 7^th NBA championship ring while Federer was denied his 21^st Grand Slam and 8^th Wimbledon Titles. Nobody has ever gotten it all; no one will ever be able to. Period. Full stop.”

“That means I can no longer become rich and famous, no matter what I do?” I continuously argued. “The correct fact you mentioned is you are in your twilight years, and you will be officially a senior in about one year and five months’ time.” He then asked me a question about the 2020 Forbes’ list of the 10 richest people in the world. ‘’Where do the French billionaire Bernard Jean Étienne Arnault and Spanish billionaire Amancio Ortega Gaona ranked within the list of top 10?” I responded without blinking an eye. “They ranked No. 3 and No. 6, respectively.” He seemed surprised with my precise answer but continued talking. “With such a detailed knowledge, you are really obsessed to become rich and famous!”

He then asked me if I know Sir Li Ka-shing. “Yes, I know him. He is the 92-year-old Hong Kong (who holds a Canadian Passport) business magnate, who, as of June 2019 was the 30^th richest person in the world with an estimated net wealth of some US$29.4 billion. What is the connection of Sir Li with this conversation?” He then stepped forward right in front of me. “Very good. You are an extremely informed and wide-reading individual. And what significant essay did he write that is now going viral?”

Trying to access my memory bank, I momentarily paused. “If my memory serves me write, it is called Sunset Ballad that he graciously shared to all retirees.” He spontaneously clapped his hands and then shouted, “Bingo! You hit the bulls-eye, Professor Pido.” He then asked me the ballad’s lines that applied to me. I opted to be silent as I have not really memorized the details.

“Since you are hesitating to respond, I shall read a few lines that specifically relate to you. Item No. 2 and I quote: “Don’t aspire to acquire surplus wealth at sunset years. Those who have such intention are rather confused or crazy.” Another one is Item No. 3, and again I quote: “Be contented. Have fun and enjoy the sunset years. Do not be exalted if you’re rich, neither too worried if poor.” And he hammered the point that Sir Li regretted as to why he did not retire much earlier to enjoy his remaining years. “Why don’t you simply heed Sir Li’s advice?”

He was not done yet. “You can’t be rich because entrepreneurship is neither your gift nor your top-rated acquired skill. Among others, billionaires are outstanding salesmen, shrewd dealmakers, excellent in anticipating the market needs where business competitors see none, and have exceptional killer instinct. Two epitome of entrepreneurship are the late American Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple, who was a college drop-out, and the British Sir Richard Branson who founded the Virgin Group, who claimed that he did not even finish secondary school!”

He reiterated that I possess none of these traits. “I am 100% confident that if you are employed as an insurance agent, you will be fired within a month for being unable to sell even a single insurance policy! You are an extremely bad salesman. Aspiring to be rich at these twilight years of your life is what the mathematicians call as statistically nil. Probability-wise, it is virtually zero.”

My guardian angel then asked what was the main reason why I was quite successful in obtaining so many foreign academic scholarships and travel grants. I responded in all disdain. “It is because I am handsome. When the reviewers saw my cute photos, they instantly approved my application papers.” Blam! Blam! Blam! He slammed my laptop table so strong three times – in disgust with an air of desperation – with both his hands. He might have hurt his fingers but showed no painful emotion at all. “It is because you wrote powerful and convincing application documents. You writing proficiencies have saved your ass, stupid!”

To counter punch further, he delivered another expletive. “After all these years, you have remained as a day-dream believer, an incorrigible victim of your own delusion. We cannot sell your face at it has virtually no value. You are ugly. Truth be told, your late father Franciso and your mother Angelina were a lovely couple. It was a genetic aberration that you were born ugly as compared to your elder brother and younger sister. You were born with a face that only your mother could love! Of course, that was not your fault. But I had nothing to do with it, either.” And he ended up such statement with a smirk on his face while shrugging his shoulders to accentuate on the ridicule.

For nearly a minute, as if sizing up if his argument has sunk in, he kept silent. “But don’t be totally in despair. Despite being ugly, you could still achieve the other half of what you have always wanted: to become famous. The route, of course, is by becoming a more prolific writer – more specifically, to become an outstanding story teller. Regardless of who they are, and whatever possessions they may have acquired, people of all origin love to read interesting stories. It is now your challenge to craft a story that will entertain or captivate them.”

Seeing that I was unconvinced, he continued talking. “The key word is excellent ‘repackaging’ of your story. At its core, J.K. Rowling’s eponymous Harry Potter series is just a re-telling of fairy tales, wizards and sorcerers. Professor Albus Dumbledore is the headmaster of the wizarding school Hogwarts and you could emulate him. Millions of stories have been told about these topics throughout the millennia.”

My guardian angel provided another example. “The American fantasy drama television series, Game of Thrones, is based on A Song of Ice and Fire series of fantasy novels by George R. R. Martin. It has become the most pirated video series of all time. Yet the stories of warring kingdoms, screwing your own sister (remember Queen Cersei and her brother Sir Jaime Lannister) and fire-breathing dragons are nothing new. In fact, the ‘Army of the Dead’ is nothing more than a gang of zombies!”

Although I was left emotionally drained, I tacitly acknowledged his power of argument. He then walked behind me and whispered behind my right ear. “I don’t like you. Most certainly, I don’t need you. You are a brat, hard-headed and arrogant beyond repair. And you are also a certified asshole!” I responded at once. “The feeling of animosity is mutual! Certainly, there’s no love lost between us.”

I paused momentarily to catch my breath. “And your last sentence is obscene!” I added angrily. He ignored my verbal tirade and went on with his rambling. “I have requested several times that you be assigned to other angels. But my request has been repeatedly denied. The rule of angelic stewardship has been fairly consistent: no return, no exchange. The assignment is fixed since birth.”

“We need to iron out our relationship,” he spoke in a more humbling tone, by now. “Let me use as an analogy the English rock band, The Rolling Stones. If Mick Jagger as the lead vocalist and Keith Richards as the lead guitarist – who have been at each other’s throats since the band started in 1962 could co-exist despite personal differences and animosities – why can’t we? Keith Richards even repeatedly claims that he loves Mick Jagger “99% of the time”, yet he publicly insulted him for fathering his eighth child at the age of 73!”

Still eyeing each other, he continued. “I will be with you until the end of your natural life, and vice versa. We cannot get rid of each other, no matter what we do. Thus, we can have, at the very least, a civil co-existence. Is that not fair enough?”

“What do you really want from me now?” I asked. But this time, I was the one in a more conciliatory tone. My guardian angel started that he wanted me to undertake five interactive activities. “First, I want you to read this list of 10 blessings.” I read casually the 10 listed items. Then, I folded it back without saying a word. “Done,” I said. I was not in the mood to internalize.

Disregarding my reluctant manner, he continued. “Secondly, you must bring also this list whenever you go on your daily long walks to maintain your daily average of 10,000 daily footsteps. (View this link for my blog about 10,000 daily footsteps: https://huescribbler.com//a-positive-health-consequence-of-covid-19/). Alternatively, you could simply memorize it. It’s not very long, after all. I want you to ponder about each and every item on the list of blessings.”

“Why don’t you just explain to me why you call each and every listed item a blessing? Would that not save time for both of us?” I asked in exasperation. “The essence is you have to find out the context and the details for yourself. Please note that I only provide a two-word phrase for every blessing. If I tell you upfront, you will just make a counter rebuttal, and we shall end up with our never-ending arguments, if not, will be quarreling again. That would be tantamount to another chess stalemate.”

Moreover, he added that I must deliberately take the positive angle about the list for a more balanced reflection. “What exactly do you mean by doing the evaluation in a positive context,” I queried. He gave as an example a bottle filled with water at 50%. “The person with a positive attitude would call this as half-full. The pessimist would call this the reverse. You have been too pre-occupied with what you do not have in terms of material possession – or what you have failed to achieve – that you often fail to recognize the true and immense values of what have been bestowed upon you.”

This time, I was listening more attentively. He’s been good in seizing the momentum. “Thirdly, after pondering and deep introspection, I want you to write a brief narrative about each blessing on the list. You will make a tick mark to indicate that you indeed agree and/or concur. In short, you shall make a check mark to each listed blessing.”

He was nearly done. “Fourthly, I want you to consolidate all these narratives into a single blog. The fifth and the last assignment of course is to upload the article in your website.” He even cited this URL of my blogging website https://huescribbler.com//.

Then, he suggested that I upload the blogs in two parts. Part 1 is about my close encounter with him, at the onset of pandemic, when he handed to me his blessings list. He need not see my write-up, and I could upload it at my convenience. Part 2 is about a brief narrative to describe each of the 10 blessings. He wants to see it first prior to uploading.

“And what benefits would I get if I follow your five instructions?” I casually asked. “The readers would brand me as a loony – a mad or a nutty professor – for writing my encounter with a mischievous guardian angel. They would rather watch a tik-tok upload than spend time reading my angelic blog. I would be severely embarrassed in public by your proposition. My graduate students would lose whatever respect they have for me. Are you forgetting that I am the dean of our Graduate School? They would think that I have been infected with COVID-19, and my mind has gone berserk. Please give me a respite from all this mind-draining dialogue.”

He ignored my rambling and spoke at a great length again. He even cited that when J.K. Rowling wrote the first (Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone) of the Harry Potter series of eponymous novels, she was virtually unknown: a single mother on a state pension living in a rat-infested apartment in Scotland. Now, she is the wealthiest writer in the world. “The Almighty has bestowed you with the gift of writing. If you look at your list of 10 blessings, I did not even include your gift of writing as one of them! That is why I have repeatedly said that you have at least 10 blessings, but as usual, you are only half listening.”

Lazily, my guardian angel stood up and stretched his hands. He proceeded with his monologue. “The value adding of your blog is more for the readers’ benefits. I would describe you as a quintessential skeptic, if not a classical doubter. You are a ‘half-believer’ at most.”

After a long pause, as if in a trance, he proceeded. “Therefore, you may influence the skeptical readers when you write a blog about such blessings that include non-monetary possessions, accomplishments and other positive entities that you yourself either refuse to acknowledge – or you have not simply been paying attention to. What better way to convince the skeptics and doubters than the personal sharing of a converted former non-believer?”

“Your mindset has been engulfed with negativities – failures, regrets, love lost, misgivings, missed chances – and even pussies that got away!” I immediately interjected. “Objection! Your last phrase is a profanity. Angels are supposed to be gentlemen in their choice of words.” He calmly, but scornfully responded, that he was just using my own lingo to hammer out his viewpoint.

Unconvinced, I asked him why he considers me as a gifted writer. “Writing comes naturally to you. The way others are gifted with physical traits and talents that make their endeavors second nature to them – such as those endowed to the great Olympians. I am not discounting the extraordinary efforts that they had devoted to their trainings and preparations. But they had been endowed with in-born characteristics that gave them distinct advantages assuming that they had the same amount and quality of training with their equally-capable opponents.’’

Again, he provided notable examples. “The 1.93 meter (m) American Michael Phelps – who holds the Olympic swimming record of 28 medals – has the anthropometrics of what experts in kinetics refer to as the ‘perfect swimmer’. As such, his body type and proportions are uniquely suited for swimming with both speed and endurance. The flashy Jamaican Usain Bolt (9 Olympic golds and 11 World Championship golds) has the unique muscular build, which helped him become the fastest human in the world. Standing at 1.95 m, he possesses longer lower limbs as compared to other top-notch American sprinters such as the 1.88 m Carl Lewis (6 Olympic golds and 6 World Championship golds) and 1.85 m Michael Johnson (4 Olympic golds and 8 World Championship golds).

He added more. “Even Jordan is gifted with extraordinary large hands that enable him to hold the basketball with one hand and conveniently wiggle the ball around in any direction; because of this, his former coach Phil Jackson describes him as ‘scary’ to opponents. Simply told, these athletes capitalized on their natural endowments and you ought to simply emulate them. Do the same in your writing. You have no talent whatsoever for numbers, athletics and drawing, and thus, you better forget all about them! You have written too many drafts that are scattered all around since high school days. Finish these scribbles, share them in your website, and entertain your readers.”

I could not help but nod my head in agreement. “While I acknowledge that you have made considerable efforts honing your writing skills, it would have been extremely difficult to succeed in this endeavor if you don’t have a gift (or a knack for it) in the first place. You are capable of weaving entertaining stories out of simple facts and seemingly ordinary events. That is why I am wondering why you act like you are being cursed rather than being gifted! You were born as a wordsmith, a scribbler. And you simply have to capitalize on that. Forget everything else!”

Amazingly, he also added the following facts and figures. “You have written a lot and you have produced over 70 publications of varied categories. Colleagues acknowledge that you write very well: you can do both technical and creative writing. Most writers can do only either. Others, with all their attempts, cannot even write a decent paragraph at the end of the day!

“For technical writing, your total of 1,205 Google Scholar Citations (https://scholar.google.com.ph/citations?user=btW_UUQAAAAJ&hl=en) is fairly high given that you have 21 Scopus-listed journal articles.” He started to walk around while talking. “Meanwhile, your Research Gate Score of 22.31 (https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Michael_Pido/scores) indicates that you are ranked higher than 77.5% of all Research Gate members’ scores. For creative writing, your blogging website (https://huescribbler.com//) has been fairly successful given uploads of just 20 blogs. Just for over a year, it has generated 1,763 visitors from 38 countries who made 5,351 views. Not many starting and part-time bloggers have achieved such impressive statistics.”

“For an angel, I would say that you are a master of flattery,” I replied in a nonchalant manner. “You are very good in sugar coating your words. I reckon that you would be a good politician, if ever you run for an elective post. Assuming that I write this blog, what benefit would I get? What’s in it for me? I reiterate the need to be a utility maximizer for your proposition.”

He did not immediately reply. Instead, he raised his right hand’s forefinger making the sign of ‘1’ (Figure 2). “What exactly does it mean?” I asked. “It means that your blog about this list of blessings will be your most viewed blog.” “You mean it would surpass my blog about education, which has the most number of views?”, I asked again, doubting as usual. “Most certainly. And it will be a front-runner for a very long, long time.”

“You simply have to believe me. Believe that this will happen. Professor Michael Pido, forget about Greek logic, your scientific rationalization and statistical probability. You have to learn to believe as there is magic in believing.” (You may access this most-viewed education blog through this link https://huescribbler.com//the-university-of-the-philippines-up-mystique-is-it-real-or-just-a-bravado/).

We seemed to get entangled into a deadlock at our horse trading, neither wanting to compromise. “And what will you do if I don’t act on your five instructions?” I derisively probed. “I will keep on pestering you. And I have been very good, if not extremely successful, in infuriating you. You will never be at peace if you don’t give in to my proposition. I will continue to be your worst nightmare during daytime!”

At that conversation’s juncture, my cell phone’s alarm sounded. It was 4:30 p.m. Time for my usual long walk. As if my guardian angel did not exist, I changed into my walking attire, donning my sports socks, jogging pants, shirt, and facemask. Ignoring him, I went out of the room and wore my running shoes. He followed me without saying a word. Then, I proceeded to the kitchen area to do my pre-walking routine: loosening up, warming up and then stretching. He was simply there, silently and idly watching.

As I approached the door to get out of the house, my guardian angel blocked my way. “You are forgetting something,” while handing me the paper containing the list of my blessings. “As you do your long walk, ponder on this list.”

“I have not agreed yet to do your five instructions,” I countered. “Just do them. And more blessings and positive surprises will come your way.” Reluctantly, I agreed. What better choice did I have? Agreeing is a better alternative than being pestered incessantly.

I took the paper and put it in my jogging pants’ right pocket. “You’ve got your deal. Don’t follow me in the street while I walk around. By-standers would regard me as a fool if they see me talking to you.” He made an apparent gesture to follow. “Be a gentleman and fulfill your end of the bargain. Get lost. I mean now!” Instantaneously, he disappeared into the netherworld.

Then, I closed the door gently as I got out of the house. Instead of going to the usual City Sports Complex, where walkers, joggers and runner congregate, I decided to walk around in a village southward of the house. I felt the yearning for moments of relative solitude.

In a rather secluded less-traveled trail road in the village, after about two hours of leisurely walk, I took out the paper. I read the list again – and afterwards, I started to ponder about them. Then, I started to get agitated: evaluation and deep introspection about each of the 10 items, writing of individual narratives, and then consolidation into a full blogging article. Tough assignment. “Why did I ever agree with my guardian angel’s proposition?” I asked myself.

As I performed that act, the dusk has slowly settled. It was twilight time, and time to head back home. As I was about to turn back, I overheard a rather loud, swooshing sound from behind. It was as if the largest raptor in the world, the majestic Philippine Eagle, has flapped its huge pair of wings repeatedly.

From behind, I could feel the ensuing chilly breeze like an air blowing from the blade of an industrial electric fan. But as I turned around to investigate, there was nothing. No wind was blowing in any direction; only an ambiance of heavy stillness in the air. In fact, there was not even a single living creature visible. I was all alone – by myself.

P.S. Watch out for Part 2, the narrative of my 10 blessings’ reflection in my future blog. I shall upload it once my guardian angel has cleared it.

Copyright©2020 by Michael D. Pido