Archive | Observations

Thoughts Brought To The Table. . . .

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Eternal is the hour which grants the heart time.  Sacred is the vessel which yields the cup.

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Life lived on a part time basis is for some more than enough to handle.

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There is no talent which will be left unused and no path of interest unexplored.

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There is sufficient time for all talents and then some in a world of no time and in a universe which is becoming.

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There is no time, all time and yet no time to waste.

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To manipulate time to serve the All is the true test of genius.

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To be without memory is to strip today of meaning.

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A today with no meaning already attempts an empty tomorrow.

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To build memories for oneself and one’s nearest is part of one’s commitment to life.

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It is not an empty effort to build good memories.  The memories will be called up in time not yet spoken and by generations unborn.

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When the time of divorcement is close, we ring down the final curtain and review the act.

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The heavens are also taught by example.  Keep that thought in mind.  You can be better.

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The Pain of Thought. . .

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The Pain of Thought. . .

They speak with their doctors,
their counselors and those with
backward collars
that they are anxious.

And cannot explain the panic
and the night sweats
that engulf them
even in their sleep.

They read they say
all manner of  books and articles
on positive thinking
and watch only those programs
that make them laugh
or sing their favorite songs.

They stay away from opinions
that destroy their sense
of equanimity and the
professionals wag their collective heads
and thoroughly agree.

Stay away! Don’t read the message
of those whose views would have
you stray from dogmas long
causing man’s anguish.

Don’t upset yourself, the counselors say,
just stay within the confines
of your parent gods.
They knew what was best for you.

But why then, you still ask,
when you know your life
should make a difference,

this kind of thinking makes your brain hurt?

In this day, thoughtful opinions are too much like work for most people.  Entertainment is what is preferred.  And  when school books are closed, seldom are they opened again.  Time is a commodity to be artfully balanced.  And unless we are ready to give up what has taken centuries for the human brain to be able to accommodate conflicting thoughts, we must use our time wisely or lose what abilities we have mastered.  When high school students find a paragraph difficult to retain, of course thinking will bring on brain pain.

artwork by Claudia Hallissey

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In Prayerful Consideration. . .

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Everything teaches . . .

and not being one to allow opportunity to be lost,  I caught the moment and brought forth something long on my heart.  Even as a child I gave my mother dyspepsia  because of my questions.  The God of my mother was so busy watching this 8 year old to keep me out of trouble which she was certain I would cause,  that he let Europe fall on its knees.  She had no answer to that.  I was often reminded  that men were paid big dollars and THEY could not  find answers to the questions plaguing the questing adult.  So who was I to think???  But my head was open from the day of my birth and has given me reason to keep breathing.   I share my latest observation with you. . . .give it some thought.

 

In Prayerful Consideration. . .

The younger with his new skill
carved our grilled entree
as my words struck him. .

‘Bless this food
to my use,’ I said,
‘and I to Thy service.’

His head whipped upright
as his eyes found mine
in soulful recognition
of what we once were.

And I needed time
to explain my thought.
Not a Grandfather God,
I wanted to say, but pure Essence,
searching for Itself.

As I search my God Within
who searches the Great God Essence,
we have a responsibility
as we round out our talents to serve
our commitments and humanity
which are one and the same.

We roamed the Ether once
when we sought to express ourselves
and we became Man whom we are. . .
Such as we are it seems,
better than we ever thought to be,
but not as good as we hoped.

So as we become
what our God Within breathes
from the Essence whose greatness
we soar into, bless this food
to my use, I say out loud
and let my prayers be my discipline

for all the days of my life.

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As The Script Was Being Written. . .

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Oftentimes as we age,  we wonder, and some of us are prone to wonder a lot, how to have done things differently.  And  considering what we knew at the time,  what situations presented,  the conclusions reached are that we did the best we could.  We gave it our best shot considering.   I understand that on the way to sainthood many options are closed.  Tell yourself that.  And remembering again as a best friend said,  introducing one small if would have changed the entire picture.  So be kind to yourself with no more ‘should haves.’  There will be those who will be happy to keep on belting long after one’s demise.  Let us not take away that last pleasure.

As The Script Was Being Written. . .

If, as you say, beloved,
that none of it is true,
that what I have built with my life
is a sieve, never to hold water,
then this I say. . .

From where comes
this courage, I ask,
to have sublimely taken on
the heavens and them to task
when my arms, as the
theater marquee shouted. . .
are too short to box with God?

Except of course, you see, I say,
it took a very long walk
to get to this place
where I see how it worked.

I stalled the process
several times
while I gained my footing
to reconcile beliefs. . .
to cut corners so that my people
could hold on
just another minute. . .

But it was what I could do,
only what I could do,
for the ascent was narrow
and steep and the rocks
bit the soles of my feet
and I found somehow
I had courage and life
was lived. . .

even as the script was being written.

Painting by Claudia Hallissey

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Soul Research. . . .

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To be told of the awaiting Divine Reward has its place, but being human a little human praise is never out of place.

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Illusions do not dress the effort.  The merit of the effort addresses and dresses the work.

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Sometimes we wander like lost sheep in search of a shepherd.  The quality of our thought will spark the shepherd’s way toward us.

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Ancient memories must be put to rest.  They must be assuaged, changed to victory and not be allowed to haunt unsuspecting generations forever.

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Philosophies are born and discarded time and again because they cannot and do not hold up.  What is held to is because the staying  power is sustained.

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In all things there is compensation.  There is something given when something is taken away or outgrown.  Not always sad but sometimes even a cause for rejoicing.

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Time is a healer, a mistifying, calculating mystery that can pay untold dividends.  It is money in the bank.

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It is hard to move encrusted thinking.  But the boundaries of thought must be enlarged or man’s progress stagnates.

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Events are for growth.  They are not a comfort station.  Happiness is not a constant affair.

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Go for broke, but do not dismantle what you do not intend to stay around and rebuild.

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Eternity is a long time, sweetheart, to mortgage a life.  A long time.

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If we would see thought as constant prayer, would we elevate our thinking?

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Within the pain is the lesson.  Learn it well and learn it forever.  It makes eternity much easier.

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Just a Thought in Passing. . . .

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Out of the mouths will come words and in those moments when patience is tired, those moments will speak truth.

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Un-swallowed remorse is such that no throat opens wide enough to accommodate the sorrow.

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Optimism comes easily to a body that feels good.

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In one lifetime, there is always one relationship that becomes more than was hoped for.

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This relationship stands like a beacon and throughout life it is felt and tried as the perfection of what each relationship could become.

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We had to know love at some point for it to become a measure for us.

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The greatest lessons are those that require digesting.

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It is a process of evolution that separates man, not only from the beasts, but often from his own kind.

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People try to do, but doing is what they don’t.

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Values are gifts we shoulder from one generation to another.

photo by John Holmes

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A Matter Of Faith. . . .

It is amusing to me because whether we believe it or not,  all of life is a matter of faith.  And when the century mark gets closer,  one is no more surprised than I am to recognize the ceiling in the morning bedroom.  When my dentists says we will see you in six months,  it is a matter of faith on his part that his livelihood will continue.  Or when we plan our Thanksgiving dinner or even this evening’s meal.  It is a matter of faith.

I now work on mini wall quilts.  These are less than 12 inches,  like a small framed photo.  When the 4th of July appears and disappears,  I seriously begin the holiday ventures.  When Thanksgiving dinner is put away and the children know that officially we begin the greatest excitement of the year,  and it is still too early for decorations, something needs to be put up.

This is my suggestion.  A hint of the the holiday.  I may only have one of what I show,  but if you are interested, contact me.  I move slowly now,  so my time is planned.  We can negotiate.   I am not the best photographer and as one of my readers said,  in actuality they are treasures.  You can contact me at veronica@fromanupperfloor.net.  I do take checks.

20160523_154249Until I am able to find more of this material,  there is but one of this.

20160508_114539I can never duplicate hand work,  but this I can simulate.

20160513_100402The words will be the same,  the trees will be of different holiday fabric.

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Some Thoughts To Consider. . . .

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Observations. . .

One day when I stood at the kitchen window and looked at the neighbor’s new garage, I thought how wonderful that he took the blue prints and constructed the garage by himself.  I am sure he felt trepidation at the onset and yet he did it.  I heard in my inner self, ‘he tackled the illusion and humbled it.’  They were not my words, yet they spoke directly to the situation.  How many times is that still, small voice silenced by us?  We have yet to learn we are never abandoned.

 

1. When speaking, speak always from the heart.  From the heart is where love abounds to have
other  hearts listening and responding.

2.  It is not easy to surmount a loneliness which isolates.  It is only with compassion can we help
regenerate such a soul.  Even our own.

3.  The power to earn is not limited to the few who chance upon the coinage of the culture.  There
are  other realms in which to work and be recognized.

4.  Philosophies are ripped from the gut and start with the individual.  One cannot be honest with
oneself and adopt from an Other what has been born of her or his fabric.  It must be born of
him/her Self.

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To Break The Fast. . . .

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It is a protection given us I think,  that however our minds work, we assume we are like everyone else,  or they like us.  I am not sure when I began to realize that differences abound,  but still I have difficulty when I am approached or when in frustration someone shouts,  I don’t know where you are coming from or on what planet are you living!  What are you saying I am asked and of course my words speak what I think are clear thoughts.

When asked as a young mother of three under just barely four years of age,  how was it I accomplished what I did,  I remember flippantly saying that when I awoke in the morning,  I was given mentally what I called my marching orders.  Did not everyone awake this way?  I assumed so of course and began my day with a mental list of ‘do firsts.’  My life has consisted of marching orders and when my Independent Study Program started for me  a half century ago my life has been an ongoing conversation with my God Within.  Even when alone, it has not been a lonely life.  It has been a companionable one and the company I keep is choice.

To Break The Fast is a poem Given as much of my writing has been.  It stands on its own,  but I wanted to share my thoughts with those of you who ask me to.  It is only of late that I realize the unique differences of each of us and how special these differences are.  They are not meant to isolate us but to unite us as a whole, different though we may be. Think on it and give yourself a hug.  We have never been abandoned.

To Break The Fast

When dawn arrives
pressing on my senses
and no longer can
I stay abed, I rise.

Needing to speak
and needing to listen
to the insistent thought
echoing through
the still, silent ethers.

I am! he shouts, I am!
And I am the golden thread
that ties the humble man
to the Essence of God
of whom he tethers.

It is almost more
than a mind can bear;
this knowledge pleads
to be known and pounded
into substance as food of this day.

Take ye and eat, he said
and we are fed
at the banquet tables,
at the breakfast tables. . .

It is the last supper
and break the fast of the day.
It is the ending as well
as the beginning.

It is our very Essence. . . .

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You Also, Have Been Wondering. . . .

1. Pity has no place in a life so rich.  Pity is no friend; he is the enemy who takes life.

2.  Our so called ‘love of people’ serves to hide our very limited love of persons.  When we cannot love
persons,  what good to say we love people?

3.  Or is it that people are wonderful but persons are an annoyance?

4.  It costs nothing to love the world.  It costs much to love the ones sharing your space,  your wallet
and your genetic history.

5.  When stress becomes unbearable, we are then pressed to broaden our understanding and learn.  Or
else we fall apart in front of the children.  And who then, will they look up to?

6.  What man truly wants to learn, he will.  Spirit discerns the well intentioned and the readiness of the
student.

7.  When an ideal is realized, it becomes tiresome and tiring to keep moving the carrot on the stick.

8.  The camouflage systems we construct are so intricate that an architect would indeed be proud and
no  doubt win kudos for.

9.  It is a wonder how we as humans can endure the anguish of loss when we hold no knowledge of
other worlds.

10.  Physical activity oftentimes is an innocent escape from the odorous obligation of thought.  As long
as the body does, the mind does not have to.

11.  The physical world is designed to dissipate the mental energy that would have the body fragment.

12.  Hope still remains the world’s most powerful antibiotic.

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