The Happiness Principle

The Happiness Principle

The True Story of Angels coming to the Earth with the Key to Lasting Happiness and Peace

By Randy Petersen

with Elise D. Petersen

Copyright 2015 Randy M. Petersen

Smashwords Edition

Dedication

This book is dedicated to an angel. An angel who was sent into my life when I was at my lowest point and who lifted me up and healed me. An angel who believed in me and this work, without whom there might not continue to be a work today. An angel who’s inspiration and assistance was critical in the production of this book. An angel who helped me find true and lasting happiness and hope. The name of this angel is Elise. She is my wife, she is the love of my life, she is my eternal hope, and she is my greatest blessing. She is my everything.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - They Talk of Angels

Chapter 2 - That Crazy Little Thing Called Death

Chapter 3 - Go Ask Your Father

Chapter 4 - I Send Angels Before Thee

Chapter 5 - Our Little Angel Returns

Chapter 6 - The Happiness Principle

Teaching 1 - Belief and Understanding

Teaching 2 - Spiritual Light: The Concept of Spirit

Teaching 3 - Life’s Meaning: Understanding the Plan

Teaching 4 - Positivity and Optimism

Teaching 5 - Thankfulness

Teaching 6 - The Soul

Teaching 7 - Priorities and Moderation

Teaching 8 - Forgiveness

Teaching 9 - Prayer

Teaching 10 - The Spiritual Routine

Teaching 11 - The Power of Love

Teaching 12 - Seeing Signs of God’s Presence

Conclusion - Supercharging the Principle

Appendix I - Pollution Solution

Appendix II - The Structure of Prayer

Appendix III - The 747 Breathing Technique

Chapter One

They Talk of Angels

I remember as a young boy sitting in church and hearing stories of great spiritual miracles; of visitations to the Earth by angels. Messengers from a kind and loving God sent here to give guidance and hope to the living. I recall being most touched by the concept of angels at Christmas time. Aside from the angelic decoration and imagery, I was greatly influenced by the story of the birth of Jesus and the angels that visited shepherds tending their flocks by night.

I remember thinking that shepherds could be anybody… just average folk, and it made me feel special that God would send angels to everyday people like me, not just those that were considered important. There was a feeling surrounding Christmas that I remember seemed like more than just a feeling. It was an energy that inspired peace of heart, a greater affection toward my family, and an increased love and caring for others. I always wondered if angels had anything to do with inspiring these wonderful sentiments at this special time of year.

I especially loved the belief in angelic beings that lovingly watched over me and cared for me. Guardian angels they called them. They supposedly stayed with you all of the time and helped you and protected you from danger. I often wondered how my guardian angels interacted with me. Were they by my side or behind me most of the time, or did they constantly hover in the air above watching over me? How did they help me? Did they talk to me and give me direction concerning the things I should or should not do? I wondered if they influenced my family, friends and others to be kind and helpful to me.

Most of all, I wondered how I could know for sure that they were really there. I always wished I could talk to them; but how do you talk to someone you can’t see? Finally I wanted to know who they were and why they loved me so much, that they would constantly care for me. Were they total strangers or perhaps someone I knew in heaven before I came into this life? Maybe it was my Grandma or Grandpa that died before I was born?

No matter who they were, I knew that guardian angels were special people. I was taught that they were strong but kind, patient, caring and compassionate, and yet they would unquestioningly stand up to evil and destructive people in protection of their charges. I also heard that angels radiated a light or spirit that carried with it feelings of love, happiness and healing, and when that light touched people, it could literally change their lives. I remember thinking that someone who possessed all of these qualities would have to be an angel alright. I certainly didn’t know anyone that had such personal characteristics in the physical world…. except maybe for one person… my dad.

Now my dad may not have possessed these characteristics in angelic quantities but he certainly fit the profile, especially for a living person. While my mother was a very caring, kind and spiritual woman, I always felt most drawn and attached to my dad. I grew up in a good Christian home in southern California. I was the youngest of five children by just about eight years. My parents thought they were finished having kids when I came along. My mom always referred to me as their surprise. There was such an age span between myself and my next oldest sibling that at times, it felt like I was an only child. While this was challenging it also offered a wonderful benefit. It meant that my dad had more time for me.

No matter what we were doing, spending time with my dad was always my favorite activity. In his spare time my dad was a pianist, composer and play write. He had this big old upright piano that we heard back in the 1920’s had once been a player piano. As a child I would stand by that piano for hours, watching and listening to my dad play and sing songs. I would make request after request, and he was always happy to oblige. Some of my most memorable times with my dad were those when we would just lie out on the grass together, in the backyard at night, and look up at the stars. He would teach me the constellations, as he tried to field my many questions about the vastness and wonder of the Universe.

He was a good looking man standing about 6’ 1" with dark hair and blue eyes. He had a manner that was kind yet commanding, and a smile that a movie star might envy. Even with all of his charm and charisma he was as down to earth and approachable as anyone you would ever meet, and yet it wasn’t his outward characteristics that made the greatest impression upon you, but those that came from within. You would feel better just standing in his presence. There seemed to be a spirit about him that radiated positive feelings of joy and comfort and love. He seemed to genuinely care about others and he was known to go out of his way to be helpful and supportive of those in need.

All of this having been said, I believe the most precious gift that my dad gave to me was the gift of unconditional love. While he encouraged me to be honest and kind and patient, and to cultivate integrity in all that I did, I always knew that he loved me without expectation or condition. Aside from my wife Elise who I would meet and marry many years later (and who has graciously assisted with the production of this book) he is the only person that has ever loved me in that fashion.

Yes, at least in my world, my dad was the only person that came close to such angelic qualities and well, I knew he wasn’t an angel. No matter how amazing he seemed to me, he was still just my dad. Most of my questions about angels would have to go unanswered because I found that no one really seemed to have all of the details. As I grew a little older my own personal fascination with these otherworldly beings faded with time and ever maturing interests.

Chapter Two

That Crazy Little Thing Called Death

When I was 14 years old, we moved from California to Utah. My dad, a wholesale food executive, had been transferred to a new position within the company for which he worked. Within just a few months of moving into our new home, he began to have stomach problems, and shortly thereafter he was diagnosed with colon cancer. This was a tremendous shock and a blow to our family, but after surgery and radiation treatments, we all had high hopes that my dad would recover.

About nine months after our arrival in Utah, I was sitting in a ninth grade math class at school, when I was suddenly called to the principal’s office. As I walked down the empty corridors, thoughts of discipline and punishment filled my head. Why did they want me in the principal’s office? What had I done? As I walked through the door, I saw a family friend standing at the front desk. He greeted me with a very troubled look on his face. Still puzzled, I asked what was going on. He informed me that my dad had become very sick that morning and that we were going to the hospital. The drive to the hospital was a quiet one. I don’t think that this man wanted to be the one to tell me what was going on, and frankly, I was so scared I didn’t want to ask.

As I entered the hospital’s ICU waiting area, I encountered my mom and older siblings together, most of them in tears. My mother informed me that my dad had become very ill that morning and was in a great deal of pain. Once at the hospital, after running a few tests, it was determined that his colon had burst. Shortly thereafter, he had slipped into a light coma-like state. The doctors had told her that there was nothing that they could do, but that they would try to keep him comfortable until he passed away.

A wave of terrifying shock raced across my body and a tightness grabbed my chest. My mind began racing as I tried to accept what my mother had just told me. Suddenly the answer came to me… I couldn’t accept it! I wouldn’t accept it! The thought of life without my dad was an unfathomable, unconscionable state of existence. I remember running from the waiting area in a blind panic. I need to find someone who can give him a blessing, I remember thinking. I believed in God; I trusted in God; certainly this wasn’t supposed to be. I needed to find someone who could provide me with a miracle. After about an hour I realized that my miracle was not to be found, so I returned to the waiting room, sat down, lowered my head, and quietly wept with the rest of my family.

At around 6 pm that cold February evening, we were told that the end was near, and we were called to my dad’s room to spend his last minutes on Earth together as a family. As we gathered around his hospital bed, I became transfixed on the heart monitor sitting high on a stand to the right of his bed. The blips on the monitor were shallow but steady, with their accompanying audible beeps. Over the next few minutes those blips became harder to discern and the beeps came further and further apart, until finally a steady tone rang out from the machine.

That was it. He was gone. At that moment I felt like a piece of paper that had been violently torn in half. One tattered portion still remained, while the other had simply blown away in the cold winter wind. My focus shifted to my grieving family, and fear swept over me again, as I saw their own shattered state. It felt like the main pole had been knocked out from under our family tent, and our world had come crashing down upon us. Over the next couple of months I didn’t deal very well with this event. I became a little withdrawn and somewhat depressed, but most of all I was just spaced out. When I returned to school a week or two later, I just sat in class, staring off into space; in my own little world. As a result my school work suffered and when report cards came out, I was failing every class but two. This was only because of two kind and compassionate teachers who both gave me undeserved A’s.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. I was so distraught that it seemed on a subconscious level, I was losing it as well. I developed a little habit of sleep walking at night after I had gone to bed. I would wake up in different parts of the house sobbing. My bedroom was in the basement, and one night, I remember waking up to find myself sitting in the corner of the living room, which was upstairs. I was on the floor, cross-legged, and crying. In short, it appeared I was having a breakdown.

That is until one night when I had a dream.

It was the most wonderful dream or rather experience. If it was a dream, it was the most vivid I had ever encountered. I remember standing (where I was I could not tell) and my dad appeared before me, about ten feet away. Instantly I ran to him, and grabbed hold of him, hugging him as if I were never going to let go. I call this an experience because it was more than a dream. It seemed so real. I could feel him. I could smell his aftershave that I knew so well, and I could feel his breath on my neck. We never exchanged a word during this encounter; he just held me and comforted me as I wept. While we didn’t speak verbally, somehow he communicated to me that he was still very much alive (so to speak), that he would always be with me to give me guidance and comfort, and that everything was going to be alright.

When I awakened the next morning I was transformed. I was myself once more. It was as if the fog had been magically lifted and I had hope again. Today I have a certain knowledge that my father actually visited me in spirit that night, and with the assistance of a power greater than the both of us, he was able to lift the destructive darkness of death that surrounded me, and instantly heal the dysfunction that had consumed my life.

This whole event definitely changed or molded my view of what death was all about. I knew that my dad was in a safe place, and that he still existed even in death. It seemed that he had the ability to offer powerful help or assistance to me at times. The vivid, healing dream seemed to be proof of that. Thoughts of angels filled my head again as a million childhood questions seemed to be answered in an instant. If my dad wasn’t an angel before, he certainly fit the bill now and if I ever doubted the existence or power of angels, all of those doubts had just faded away that day in the morning sun.

Over the years I could feel my dad’s presence. I don’t know how to describe it other than when he was alive, I just got to know how it felt to be with him. As I mentioned before, he projected a warm comforting feeling. As a result, at times after his death I knew he was there, especially during certain key events in my life. While this was wonderful and comforting and I assumed he was there trying to help me, that was pretty much all I knew about my dad’s ongoing involvement in my life. When it happened it was amazing