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A Heralded Future


A Heralded Future

Psychic experience is labeled as phenomena because it is not sufficiently understood. It is called paranormal because it is outside the average person’s experience. What it is, is memory. Having lifetimes behind them and coming into this world with open or partially opened heads and talents that moth and rust do not destroy, it is a wonder that we don’t have more people with more than the usual five senses. Believers and Christians alike who take as an authority the New Testament Jesus, have him telling us to put our time and effort into those things that moth and rust do not destroy. And why? Because these talents then are ours. Forever.

One talent more than the usual five may just mean 2 percent more than the average person, but a 2 percent increase in brain cognizance makes the one seated next to you very different. And when we were told that my father’s house has many rooms, we know on this calendar date that there are worlds outside of us as well as penetrating and interpenetrating where different senses are used.

Three quarters of the world believe we have lived before. Books by the dozens in libraries around the world have proven data of prior existence. Have evidence to prove that there was no false information given. We call these people psychic when in actuality their heads are more open than the average person. Of course we would have other senses refined in other worlds carried by those who have lived many lives and have much in memory that the science doctors call imagination. Where is this imagination located? In the DNA of course and places like the heart and mind. Yes, we would have talents and extra senses. And for whatever reason, by birth, by shock or trauma as is often the case, or simply by intent and motive to make a difference, these senses are called phenomena.

In the course of human life, in wars and religions and institutions of various orders, we have done disastrous things to the soul and hearts of people. Religions have penalized their congregants who demonstrate unusual talents when compared to others who have the recognized five. Remember the witch hunts. Instead of being the safety net and loving arms beneath those who already are bullied by families or on the playground or in the marketplace, they are further dismissed by the medical people who do not know how to help those distressed in a world unaccepting of psychic differences.

One world at a time is enough to handle for the average person. But there is much we can learn from the child or adult who has access to worlds beyond ours. That one you just dismissed may actually be the angel unaware of a much needed and heralded future. Our loss is vast. We have no tools to measure this loss.

Photo by Veronica


Our Sacred Source

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In rereading some of my blog beginning material,  I found posts that I felt should be repeated.   Many of my newest readers may not be familiar with my work with situations that have become more important as time elapses.  This is one of them concerning my beloved Earth schoolroom.   I present it again and hope it may bring discussion to the dinner table.

Our Sacred Source

I heard a grandchild say at a very young age, ‘when mamma is happy the whole family is happy.’   I have seen when a family is in turmoil,  in sickness, and  the hot water tank springs a leak,  the washing machine stops  that mama says,  this we can handle, even   when we  are  out of bread, out of milk with  no cereal in the cupboards.   I have also seen things go right when a family is working in harmony under adverse conditions  because the parent gods work to make it so.

A young friend says to me that she hates what cloudy weather  does to her and is it ever going to stop raining?  We give credence to all these feelings.   One day I said to another friend, ‘ how are  you treating the world?’   ‘Don’t you mean how is the world treating me?’  he asks.   I assure him I meant what I asked.

It is not a far stretch to see that our Mother Earth reacts the same way.   Our Earth  reacts to human trauma.   It reacts to human turmoil and human agonies.  There are those who say that earthquakes and tornadoes  and other tragedies are part of Nature and because we have such high tech systems,  we learn of them more quickly.   But we are now a planet of greater numbers and we live in each others’ pockets.   We no longer have large expanses of lands and waters that can absorb Nature’s hiccups.   A tsunami is not a hiccup anymore when thousands of people are running for their lives while water is pushing new beaches where beaches never were before.

When the Earth splits in two and hundreds are swallowed  in another earthquake while the other side of the world moans in pain as markets react and jobs and economies are torn asunder, this tells us  we are of one brotherhood.  We are as natural to our planet as all other species and events.  Thoughts carry power as strong as Nature itself.  Thoughts and emotions weigh heavily and will have their aftermath somewhere.

We cannot separate Nature’s events from the emotions that view them.  We rise from the same bed.  Let us respect and pay homage to our Sacred Source.

photo by John Holmes


Angels We Have Heard

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Angels We Have Heard

He came up quietly and stood shifting his weight from one foot to the other. I put my book down and waited for him to speak. Can we go, he asked, to see the lady with the blue cloths? Is there a reason you want to go, I asked. And he said I need answer to question.

Okay, I said, we can do that. I can be ready in a few minutes. And he ran to get himself together and we were good to go. We chattered about many things on the way to the place with the lady with the blue cloths. There was no mention of the things that needed answers. I asked if I could be with him while he talked to her. Always, he said, he wanted me to be part of the answers. I not like secrets, he said, just regular stuffs that he had been thinking about.

So we entered the place and were welcomed with hugs. He said he needed to ask some things and she was the one who would be able to answer him. We went to a small table where she did her work and she made us comfortable. Ask me what you need to know, she said. And the young one looked at her and said in a firm voice, I don’t want to forget where I come from, he said, and I afraid I won’t ‘member and how can I ‘member when my friends say it is baby stuff I talk about. Yet my friends who not seen, are part of that other place. I not want to forget them ‘cause they say things that are ‘portant. How can I ‘member when here friends don’t talk?

The hardest part, she said, is for you to want to remember. You must do the remembering and see how everything connects. It will be hard for you and they will make fun of you. But the here friends are afraid to be different. And only when you remember from where you have come can you make life better and make a difference. You may not see the difference you make, but from another place, it is a big difference. It hurts when they laugh and you wonder especially if it is important. But it is, it is. And good friends will want to be with you. Because they know you are special. She had put her hand over his on the table and he curled his fingers around hers.

He stood up and said, I ‘member. You help me to ‘member. Yes, she said, you will. You will. He took my hand and we thanked her. She nodded and whispered it begins and I bless.


Once Upon A Time


This from the teacher’s notebook. . . . . . .

This should really start out with once upon a time. And we do. . . .for once upon a time when humans took form there was an openness about them which we can say was almost biblical. Until the fig leaf, for various reasons, was needed.

When man first walked, he knew from where he emerged. It was a very large picture that he held. In the classic Homer’s Iliad, the gods involved with the physical characters were in various stages of growth. Both gods and angels created.

Now we try to explain what is considered myth by classes in literature but was really an openness that was first employed by all. It was a natural state. But then came the nemesis of dis-ease; of fear, of flight and of desire and the brain’s doors were closed. What should have been a rapid growth in man’s progression has turned into a snail’s pace. And the grinding of the mills is studious, well intentioned and designed not to upset those who could not handle the subject at all.

Survival became the prime reason for being. Just to breathe and keep living whether one be animal or human. And this has been the standard operating procedure since the Adam and Eve story. One does not change horses in the middle of the stream it seems, unless the horse becomes too powerful to ride and rides the rider. That is when something must be done.

There will be genetic maneuverings and manipulations and the strongest will survive. The how and why of it all must be answered in the head of the person needing to know. And the picture of this planet must always be kept in mind when negotiating for changes. This is the school for learning the rudiments of behavior for a Universal existence.

And already we broaden the premise from physical Earth life to life in other worlds. If a closed physical system is preferred and for those uncomfortable with a universe of no retire and since all transit at the end of this physical existence, more thought must be given to the next phase of life. We must consider harp lessons since the heavens are all full up with guitar players.

photo by Kathy Qualiana


The Obligation Of Knowledge


The Obligation Of Knowledge

The Teacher speaks. . . .When you realize that understanding is a bigger or heavier burden than not understanding, your behavior or course of action is already decided.

The reason is this. When you have the knowledge, you have the obligation. Not knowing the reason for a person’s behavior gives one the right to rage. Knowledge takes away this right. Yet who is to blame for this behavior, if blame is in the picture? There is no one. There never was. Each person is a result of a compilation of errors destined for the head of man. And yet within is the spirit destined also for refinement, for an attunement that would bring the human species to the finest place of all. It is a testing ground for angels; each being the angel that decided to try his wings in a place that doesn’t allow flight but instead demands a rooting.

Some behaviors one can ascribe to fact. Yet most things properly belong to a generation of characteristics. Or many generations of characteristics. Not all things are a learned behavior to gain certain results. Some things are passed through the genes. And do not need to have anything done about them except to talk of them and aired. There is generally a self righteousness about ourselves because we have nothing else in our frame of reference.      We do what we do because anything else would be foreign to our natures.

When you understand the why of behavior you realize that understanding does not necessarily make the behavior easier to live with. But when you understand, when knowledge is yours, the obligation to do the correct thing is yours also. It is an incomparable growth experience.

No one said it was going to be easy.

Genetic Memories

Lurking behind every door are ghosts
from a shadowy past,
eager to be translated
to a dubious present.

Impregnated in genes
are the memories of these ghosts,
split second DNA, with desire housing
the delicate substance quoting life.

Stupid am I to allow
others’ memories,
lurking in my fresh Being,
to suck life out of my present.
But power filled, even to think
that I could release their tenacious hold
from a life unfulfilled
and requiring recompense.

Helplessness rages simultaneously,
pleading a judicious balance
to satisfy life’s imbalances,
yet knowing,

I cannot do it.




Art by Claudia Hallissey











I Would Teach



I Would Teach


There is one thing I would teach if I could it would be that who we are is always safe.   A reader who caught the essence of what I was saying, had commented on a post that it made her feel safe.   More than safe I would add,  we are in the lap of eternity.   I was thinking,  the reasons for our lessons, if they can be called lessons or simply the consequences of earth life, is these are logical outcomes for what we inadvertently or knowledgeably do.  Since we were before we are, we somehow sent this earth rolling in this marvelous sea of great tranquility, called the Universes and had as its basis, safety of its inhabitants and also logical consequences.  The underlying basis has intelligence and that intelligence evolves as our intelligence does but in greater leaps.   Much greater leaps; unimaginable.  And if we call this intelligence God or Father or simply Life, this intelligence is the primary factor of all the Universes.

I don’t know if the Big Bang theory with its mating molecules was its beginning or if some other factor sent rolling in this vast sea even had a beginning.   I cannot with this brain fathom that.   What I am certain of is the underlying factor of these Universes is intelligence, which makes my heart beat steadily and because we are its children, or its product of love or idea, also are buds of intelligence set on a path of growth, however long it takes.   The very primary,  the very smallest of life’s instinct that has life and intelligence as its point of existence, I would call the God Participant.

There is nothing, not a thing, no thing in this world should be taken as a granted, as a nothing or non life because we have as its center, life, the smallest particle, the God Participant, growing into its full capacity of intelligence.   And from that point, to whatever ends the participant succeeds will then be  another meeting of parts in its composition,  again growing toward other forms of intelligence or other forms of life.

This may not sound like much but to me is more of what was the beginning and intention of life than the unpalatable that had me wondering why when I was trying so hard to make sense out of my life, there was only nonsense.   I was throwing up all the years of my existence and I was dying.  I was not let go and have come to these conclusions giving me life and more life.   I now know from where it is I come.

And I feel I have scaled the wall.

photo by Christina Socha


Industry And Creativity


Industry and Creativity

 Our world needs our arms and legs and talents.  Heaven needs our industry to keep our planet afloat.  We are industrious and we are also creative.   And to be both is what life is all about.  We construct our lives by what is imaged and we create in physical space what we envision.   This planet is the best classroom ever because what we envision we can make manifest as quickly as we gather materials to do so.  There are those who  never take  time to process information into something they can do within the framework of where they are.   They hasten to buy it all and wonder why there is so little satisfaction in the acquisition.

 Taking an idea, we soon find it gives birth to many more.   For some of us it is like looking up a word in the dictionary.   One word gives rise to another and soon we  spend hours looking up words that pique our interest and add depth to our vocabulary.  What is needed is time for solitude to sift and sort and explore.  Everyone needs solitude, from the toddler to the elder.  Time is needed for an idea to come to fruition.    It cannot be done in front of a screen designed to constantly stimulate without time for employment of an idea.   A  ‘go to your room’  was never argued in our home for it meant there would be uninterrupted personal time.  Personal time meant personal space was not violated.  It was time where thoughts could roam the ethers and come back full of substance.

 I was grateful for hours spent observing  work done by my brothers and our sons.   Learning to do was my genetic heritage.  With the birth of grandchildren also came the birth of woodworking for me.  Starting with plaques I soon ventured into toys.   It was also grief therapy needing to heal a breach in the family when our David died.  The shaping and the sanding were helping put love into  toys our grandchildren would be playing with.  Working with our hands is part of who we are as human beings from the first wedge and mallet we shaped from rock.    This may sound like old fashioned work but one might find it a delightful addiction.  And though we might think otherwise,

 most of us were not to the manor born.

(Some of the Pink Feather Fleet were space vehicles.   Of course,  of course.  That is why I called them Illusion I, II,  etc.)


To Research Oneself


The Teacher Speaks. . . . .For the one who searches the Heavens  for his answers and then hopes to find the answers in his actions, his activities and in the midst of his affiliations,  he might find them there if he chooses so.  But chances are the answers he seeks will be in his living room in the wise hours of the morning.  Or in the closet of himself when he unearths the meaning of who and what he is.  

 The largest undertaking of one’s life is when one researches oneself.   It is no small matter.   It is all that matters.   It can be done in the kitchen of the house,  in the classroom or the market place.   It is done anywhere and the truth of the matter it is seldom done,  period.   Not many wish to give up the day’s entertainment in search of one’s identity.  Too much trouble and too much hurt.   One finds that nothing has meaning without the central meaning of life.  One must have a healthy core for the fruit surrounding to have texture.



I shall teach you
about your root.
The fog will dissipate
and you will walk in truth.

Truth is fashioned
to resemble you.
Perfect in beauty,
laying dormant,

only to be awakened
from the impenetrable error
you hostage.

will no longer companion you.
The veil will be stripped away
and you will be set free.

No longer will you agonize
about beginnings and endings
and have terror ripping you
to the grave.

Space will be encircled
and no longer will you be paralyzed
at the thought of oblivion
and you will know

that you can go home.

                                                                                                  photo by John Holmes


And We Live Again

IMG_20140730_134706_646 (2)the music tangles
in the wind
of muted sound
and we live again

When our son became seriously ill and I could not find holiday cards that spoke to what my heart carried,   I started to make Christmas cards.   The first card was made with construction paper  and carried a poem of mine that I had a local printing company print.   That Christmas I learned of many who were carrying heavy burdens who appreciated the card.  One man said that he told his wife Eleanor, we will frame this and I will live!   He had just recovered from a heart attack.   He said I will be reminded every day and the card in a frame on his dresser was his reminder.  We do not know when we make the effort to do a something how far the ripples will reach.

 This wall quilt is a fabric version of a Christmas card I made when we as a family faced an unthinkable future.   But we learned many things and were gifted with joys never thought possible.  To begin to do with one’s hands and mind is a gift of unmeasurable dimensions.

 One of the most important lessons we can teach our young is to begin the task, whatever it is that one desires.   Even when we don’t know how to do something, beginning will be the largest hurdle to overcome.   When we begin,  we will be shown how.   In just measure  commensurate with our abilities,  we will be taught.   And this is how we learn.  This is how we accomplish what it is that is our heart’s desire.   The materials may not be the best,  but whatever we have on hand is what we use.   Eventually, ways will be shown and events conspire to place within our hands what will not only be useful, but necessary.   But we must begin.

 Not everyone will be an artist, but we can do what is within our capacity.   Our technologies have placed lessons on television, but we find ourselves judging what we do with professionals who have spent lifetimes doing.   We can express ourselves within our means and do something we have not done before.   Our efforts at what we are able to do are commendable.   And these efforts are noted.   They allow the god within to cheer us on and say now we can do this and this.   It will be with effort and care and we will do better and better.   And one day we will call ourselves primitive artists but more importantly we will be able to take another step in conquering the fear that we cannot do anything.


A Silent Thank You


Hey there, mister. . . .are you ready?   Almost,  he says and in a few minutes he appeared.

Where are we going,  he asked and I said to do some errands .   We can walk and because it is early,  it is still cool.   We did not hurry along,  just sauntered.   As we came to the corner we heard a marvelous bird song.  We stopped, looked at each other and then he pointed up.   We saw the solitary bird singing his mighty song.

 The little one squinted and said I see you and I hear you.  And the bird stopped his singing.   Ohhh the young one said.  We waited and then walked on.   It is okay,   I said.   We continued to the next corner and there was another clear song.   We looked up and he said whispering,  I not say anything.  So then I said,   I can hear you but I cannot see you.  And the singing stopped.

 They not like our saying to them that we like their singing?   I cupped his face with my hands and said,  I think they are surprised that we take the time to listen.   By listening we say thank you quietly  and they hear our thoughts.   He took this thought and nodded yes.

 A few blocks later there were songs being sung though we could not see any birds.   I felt a tug and looked down at the questioning face and in his grateful voice said we do not see you but not stop your song.  And they continued to sing.

 I also thank them he said.   Do other peoples give thank yous?   I guess not too often I said.  We forget as we get older I think to give thanks for what we do not see even when it is beautiful and we know even when we do something good and could not do what we do alone without some help.  Like the singing and the morning and the night when we sleep.   I ‘member always now, he said.   I don’ want the singing stop ever.   Not ever he said.  My heart be sad then, he said.  Very sad.

 Mine too,   I said.   Mine too.


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