I Wish It For You. . .

There comes that time when night falls unto itself and one says I call it a day.  It is time for the night air to wrap us in its ambience and for us to taste of its elixir.  It is when memories are called upon that feed the soul when lives were their richest in love and deeds and hearts fit the space designed for it.  This is private time for the divine within and the who I am.  Specifics are not necessary but the feel and fit are.  I wish it for you.



Inhale Deeply. . .

Inhale deeply the night so that
you will remember
the freshness that comes
with the beckoning dark. . .

And the stars
leading you to a place
of warm retreat. . .

Melancholy soul,
even the heavens
pale beneath your fatigue.

Breathe deeply
and consider my love.
It comes from a world
we hold in our hearts.

Begone, into the night where the heart rests.


The Who Of A Mystic. . .

The Who Of a Mystic . . .

Daddy, daddy don’t hit him! He is my brother!  I screamed and my father  was confused because he was protecting my life and my brother was out to kill me.  I was the younger sister who craved the balsam to squash with my teeth and his was the dream of building the perfect plane model.

I was the cause of the trouble and their emotions landed in my stomach as the anger of my father whose peace was disturbed and the frustration of my brother whose dreams were shattered.

My own emotions collided with theirs.  I was possibly 9 years old but already handicapped by a stomach that was a pit stop for the emotions of our whole family of ten.  24/7. . .

Born into this world with a foot still in the world I left is not easy.  It leaves one vulnerable from birth unto the grave.  Can one be a mystic in a secular world?  A mystic is someone who takes the essential elements from religions and the highest principles they claim from other worlds and tries to make them work where they are.

Children automatically do this. When thrust into a family who are simply versed in the secular and orthodox religions, is at best a trial.  At its most difficult,  puts one in a place where one is different but for unknown reasons.  Just different.  Not special, not spared, just forced to participate to be like everyone else.

And never knowing why one feels outside the circle, sees and hears what others do not, learning early to be careful with speech, never sharing one’s thoughts for fear of ridicule.  I ran home from kindergarten as fast as I could because hearing sirens I thought my house was burning and my mother dead; somehow feeling responsible.

Being born with memory puts one on the defensive early.  In religion class I told the priest what I knew.  And it was not what he was teaching.  My head spoke in languages with those I held to be mentors from an ancient past.

Into adulthood I was appalled by the actions and words of those held in great repute.  Yet needing to be sure of being an anchor to those I was committed to.  It is possible as I chalk off another year in my dotage,  I say it is possible to be a mystic in a secular world, but not without peril.

That I crashed in my third decade in the midst of life too busy for composure, was simplified by the psychiatrist saying ‘I don’t know how you have managed so well for so long.’

Life holds sounds more than the average person hears.  Life holds sights more than the average person sees.  There are more levels of everything evident than what daily occurs to people.  One cannot imagine what these words imply.  What more?

I try to explain but words fail.  Just as I do not understand why what is evident to me is not so to everyone.  I know this only because I have lived it and have had years of mental therapy.  The medical conclusions, ‘you’re different.’

I was happily raking leaves off a neighbor’s lawn because they were busy with family when another neighbor approached asking, ‘you doing this for fun or money?’  ‘For love’ I said.  Puzzled, she said ‘you are so different than others, you know.’  Lacking the courage to hear her reasons,  I did not ask why.

Life would have been simpler if I had parents educated in the deeper aspects of life.  Immigrants worried about bread on the table.  What we do is what we can do.  I took my commitments seriously and books were best friends.

I am, I guess, an example of someone living to old age with knowledge, not faith,  of life ongoing and other worlds.  The psychiatrists called me mystic when I did not know the meaning of the word.

Not easy, but unacceptable would be anything else.


My Dawn of Tomorrow. . . Emma E.


Amid the noisy fever and unrest of the national and international worlds seizing our attention and wanting to be in our prime time, our lives must be lived with special consideration to what we must do something about immediately.  And immediate was the arrival at the end of November and starting the holiday season,  of a person in our midst demanding our concern.

She was a bit of humanity whose 1 pound 12 ounces complete required the best that our scientific knowledge of this world could give.  She had parents, grandson Harrison (Joseph IV) and Merideth Hallissey and the rest of family and friends’ immediate focus.   Embraced we all man’s earliest known connection from where we emerged and directed heavenward from where she came, were prayers.  The Ethers were inundated with our thoughts and pleadings that this soul whose arrival was at best premature at 11 weeks made her wisest decision to choose us as her family.

We are pleased with Emma Elizabeth’s progress.  She has many mountains yet to climb but is now  at 3 pounds and doing nicely,  thank you very much.  She continues taking our thoughts and conversations with her in our invisible worlds of which we know little.  But this grandmother great continues with her lectures to this giant of a soul whose presence in mind is a constant in my now physically limited world.

She has inched her way into the hearts and lives of all who care for her.  She is a marvel and mystery of how we as humans do this marvelous creative act of bringing into our world another, hopefully the best of us.  One who has the ability of changing and making a difference that will enhance our lives in ways we cannot envision.   In every act of creation there is a saving grace.

My aging mind cannot find in its capacity the ability to remember where I have read something that stays with me.  I tore out of an insert in a newspaper what a social worker by the name of John Chaillot said.  ‘You’ve seen a lot of things but the one thing you haven’t seen is tomorrow.’  I thought, oh my yes.  Much I have seen in my nearing the century mark but I haven’t seen tomorrow.

Emma E. represents tomorrow to me.  This bit of humanity has taken prime time and she must be established.   The curtain opens and she has burst on the stage, full of promise.  She is my dawn and only the dawn of tomorrow.

photos sent by Grandfather
Joseph Harrison Hallissey III
taken by parents and staff


We Are Common Knowledge. . . to grow up. . .

When one desires to lead as an example one’s peers,  one assumes a countenance of leadership.  One has studied and served in various capacities throughout one’s life to ably serve fellowman so that they will be free to progress in whatever area they require.

One does not play games with futures of people  and have them guessing on whether they as a country or as a world will survive.  Dealing with Nature as we know is enough of a challenge.  One does not take their time from the tasks of growth and progress which they require to aspire to their human potential.

Leaders free people of the task of worrying what government does that is detrimental to their well being.

This is the point of a democracy.  We elect officials to do what is best within laws which we voted  for and had instituted for the well being of all.

To prevent accidents at corners we instituted laws and lights to prevent chaos.  We have stop and go lights telling us when to proceed and when not.  We do not make a left turn after three p.m.  because this is what we know and this we learned when we became adults to drive.

And when we break the law we are hailed to stop and the local gendarme is a once classmate of your sons and is as embarrassed to arrest as you are to be arrested.

We hire lawyers to litigate,  congress to legislate and have the courage to make decisions not based on their reelection but based on their legal knowledge of the constitution which we had instituted as a protection of the people living in this democracy.  We hope that the people we put in offices and pay our taxes for their livelihood will consider the importance and responsibility connected with the work and position.

We do not want them to bully or be bullied, nor take advantage or think they are above the law.  In other words,  we want them to be as good as we try to be and better on the whole than what we think we are.  That said,  we don’t want to point the finger at their flaws and say they buffalo us.

We don’t want their dark sides evident in daily dealings with our futures.  We don’t want to point out that they are lacking courage,  lacking truth and decency, lacking the backbone to say this is wrong and hurtful when we  are telling them that we cannot believe them.

We don’t want speaking with forked tongues nor speaking out of both sides of their mouths.  We don’t want opinions changing because of a tweet or some slight by some talking head on the master screen that screeches day and night someone’s wind that smells to high heaven.

What we want are grown ups that have given careful thought, careful and studious thought to matters at hand by a bevy of cultures that are diverse in this world and have a validity of presence due all people.  We expect a courtesy of behavior giving also studious comportment to all people because  they are deserving of it simply because they are human.

This is too much to ask?  I ask you is it too much we would ask of a parent of a young child they had given birth to?  We would be dealing out in measure that which is courteous and loving because we are a caring people.  We would be teaching our children these manners because they in turn will mete out what they have been taught as they go out the front door.

This is progress and what we as people are concerned about.  We expect it of our leaders so that all humankind will progress and we as an example to all worlds will not be ashamed.  That seems to be a lost emotion in these times and embarrassment as a word for behavior seems also to be lost.

The only excuse offered by those committing these behaviors is the old cliché of being only human.  Well the divine also resides in us and we give a bad name to our divinity.

Of course the problem with pointing the finger at flaws of those we elect to govern is that the thumb points at us revealing our flaws in duplicate.  We can identify them because we can relate.  So the question is when are we going to grow up?

All of us have work cut out for us.  To educate ourselves and make ourselves well versed in what we expect others to do, to behave, to treat with courtesy, honor and trust that we would like.  We are all wounded with the arrows from our own bows.

We would like to hide our own faults and think only we know of them.  I heard with unbelief an elder say that people only know what we let them know.  If I know something and have seen it, then someone around the corner has taken a picture of it and the bird in the tree has carried the words and has sung them down the street and it is now common knowledge.

My god has spoken to your god and the gods’ network is as volatile and furious as the old boys’ network.  So consider that we are participants in both visible and invisible worlds.  Take a quantum leap because

we are common knowledge from the beginning.                                                                         


Gleanings. . .

Reason will convince in its own time.  Violence never does.


Reason will convince doubly with example.


Life is purposeful, though not entirely reasonable.  There is no more reason above man than there is where he is.



All of Earth is a demonstration in belief systems. This is the place where diverse belief systems can coexist with freedom and life can go on within the system one chooses.  This is assuming man realizes where his freedom ends and an other’s begins.


Man must come to terms with the fact that there are many systems with validity.


Principles do not work by magic.  They must be understood and applied where you are and then you take them with you wherever you go.


We can say that the outer reflection is what is evident to the internal house.


The philosophy one chooses must be applicable where one is.  It must be understood.  Only by swimming in it does one understand the shape of the tide and the temperature of the water.


The moment we say ‘who am I to know?’ we are not worth the knowledge.


The Mortgaged Soul. . .

Taking Time. . .

You say that it takes all your time to do what it is you do.  And you are the only person who can speak from that point of knowledge knowing what is required.  But we were all born doing reference work in the Talmud which teaches that the purpose of life is to learn.  And we must.  And we do, though not all at the same rate. 

In this life much is expected of us we think.  And with so many distractions, it takes longer and longer to maintain a just quality of life.  We know we cannot unbid what we have committed ourselves to.  Therefore it behooves all to choose with some knowledge what becomes our priorities. 

The privacy of minutes becomes non negotiable, except where life is in danger.  In this world where cultures are changing, it is imperative that talks ensure the fair exchange of work and accountability.  Otherwise we run the risk of bankrupt lives and mortgaged souls.  And we are an aging populace whose futures already are written on the walls.

Mortgaged. . .

Our hands brush the sleeves
of our long coats harnessing
our bodies’ warmth. . .

And meet and twine fingers
giving strength long lost
to the business of living.

The busyness of lives
succumbing to the details
of days usurping minutes
not claimed , hungry
for times floating loose.

Wise is the one hugging
closely as breath to breathe
what surrounds
the body as private.

Mine! the toddler shouts,
as he grasps what is his
loudly with force
to claim ownership.

Mine, man whispers as he
clings to the privacy of minutes
not already claimed by
the interminable needs
of the innocent.

The mortgaged soul has
to replenish his own needs
before offering more

from the well running dry.


primitive art by Veronica


A Toast From The Heart. . .

A Toast For a New Beginning. . . .



Let us drink in

the sight of each other

and let loose

those preconceived dreams

keeping us from

breathing in the essence

of the new year.

With these we will face

a blessedness comparable to none.


Come,  drink and be merry.

We will welcome one another

forevermore and be glad.




The Road To Damascus. . . .

Just One Time. . . .

All it takes is one cosmic experience and your life is changed forever.  Just one and either you will run down the street in your altogether and the men in white coats will take you away or it will alter your life  so that even you won’t recognize the words as coming from you.  Let alone the rest of your circle.  Because you will walk with one foot unalterably planted in another world and your perception of this life will take on proportions never thought possible.  And you will speak  hesitantly but you will work with an attitude that tells everyone that you know how important it is to do what is right. Never will there be half way measures again taken and never will it be done catch as catch can because ‘it don’t make no matter.’  Because you know it does and if this beloved classroom is to continue as it must,  you know now that what you do matters a lot.  We will from this day be held accountable.

The cosmic experience will differ with  each person.  And it will happen,  it will.  Sometimes it is just a glimpse that has you gasping and turning white, or a voice from a somewhere you recognize and have loved,  or a thought inserted that stops your heart momentarily.  Any number of  things not pertinent to the moment but meaningful.  And meant for you.  For you.  It will be a beginning and you will be on an inner journey that will take a lifetime.  You will be on your own road to Damascus. . . my heart goes with you. . . .

The Road To Damascus. . .

And Paul,
on the road to Damascus,
unaware of forces pulling
at his thought
was none the less surprised.

In the privacy of mind,
how could an invasion
of thought not his own
be in conference?

So it is,
in the wars of the visible
and invisible worlds,
the supremacy for power
does not stop.

Our worlds! Claim the gods. . .
My world!  Claims the pilgrim.
One in partnership
till man tasted the lust for power.

Lest we lose this,
the best of all classrooms,
brotherhood is still the dream
and our hearts still too unripe
to embrace its benevolence.

But its power
of magnetism still attracts
what prompted this dream
that catapulted us

to give search to the meaning to the why of us.



art by
Claudia Hallissey


A Time In The Heart. . .









It never occurred to me before.  As often as I said that this is a classroom of a first order, and we must keep it not only for ourselves but for those to come,  it just never occurred to me that it was the purpose of the classroom to stay the classroom.  That things were not going to change because this is its purpose and any change must come from the individual.  We can be the example but change anyone, not.

The bottom of my world fell out when I realized that no matter how hard I worked, the only change wrought was what I did to myself.  I mattered.  The good I did was a spill off from my cup runneth over.  Good that came from abundance was lasting good, but when it came from duty resentment clouded the issue.  I think that is the kicker.

We feed our belief system to build ourselves into what we need to be.  The good coming from actions benefit us first or it is not lasting good.

Because people are born into different cultures, my small hope I harbor is that all countries are emerging as united states in that there is mingling and borning of different peoples everywhere.  Where children are born into a variety of mixtures and children are color blind.  And grandparents have to acknowledge eventually that whatever color our grandchildren they have our habits!  Saints praise us!

I may make peace with myself but it does no good for my neighbors.  They must make peace within themselves.  And thus within the cradle of the heart will be the birth of peace.  And Christmas is a time in the heart.  I wish each of you the best of these holy days or holidays.  Thank you for being in my life.


The Light In Our Hearts. . .

We carry the Light in our hearts
and it reflects in your eyes.

You carry the heat of its flame
and we both are warmed.

Silvery, silvery night,
piercing as the child’s cry
cuts sharply into complacency,
peace-ing the soul;
unerringly slipped
into a world of nights
to make a difference.

The Light and Flame linger.

Do you see what we see?


(The candle was another effort in the late ‘70s when I started the Christmas cards when our David was diagnosed with cancer.  They were still done with materials at hand and what I was limited with time and funds.  What was in abundance was emotion.  It was a time of upset but life does in its minute ways to compensate.  As I made these in the late hours of the night much was igniting my inner life.  In ways I can hardly believe, I was a mystic still in those days of hectic secular life with its complex issues to deal with.  In retrospect,  I lived it all and did everything I saw to do but in innocence did not know what I was truly doing.   Uppermost was the intent to create memories that would sustain in spite of circumstances.  This was a need as I saw it.)





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