Archive | Excerpts

It Will Be Said. . . .

 

 

It will be said. . . .

(It will be said that I talk to myself.  If this is the case, I challenge all to find words for what I do and ask that you find words to describe and do  likewise.  Perhaps you will find not words in our language but a symbol that could be understood.

Some will find my work unpalatable.  I walked the streets with a rumble in my gut and a head ready to implode and wondering again if my world was going to crash.  I had to keep it steady for three good reasons which were my sons.  So I walked until I steadied myself.  There was no one to lean on.

I thought of the roomful of psychiatrists I talked to who asked me to tell them what happened.  They could not find a diagnosis in their references to label me.  They thought me articulate and rational and coherent and obviously alive to question a something not familiar.  Some never heard of the road to Damascus.

If this is my Greater Self, (I call them Teachers)  then find yours.  If yours does not answer your thoughts, are your thoughts not worthwhile?     

In the past year I have written about the worlds I am familiar with in concentric circles and gentle fishes called Nords and Kerns and drawn pictures of mountains with trees I later learned to be solar catches for homes without the need for chimneys.  Look through the Archives in my blog and see what I try to say without upset. 

Time has us by the throat.  We must educate or lose our blessed classroom.  We start again with the children who understand quantum theory.  They have lived it.  Carefully listen.  The following is an excerpt from a lecture by the Teacher dated February 1, 2018.)

On Simultaneous Time. . . We deal with linear measurement where you are.  It has stabilized the environment making teaching easier and learning a respite for the tired mind.  We say that the child’s play has to stop.  Because children now being born are versed to the enth degree with how it is in worlds with which they are familiar.  And are thrown into the hodge podge of linear measurement which is kindergarten for them.  They are already versed with the thunder rolling God of whom you write.  Your version is what they understand but is not the easier grandfather god being taught who takes the child in his arms and forgives all.   Since we are dealing with becoming and already your readers have taken upon themselves to think as becoming other than what they are, we make progress.

So now we insert that all this has connection.  It is of importance that the simultaneous world of time and events are still happening is essential to growth.  We have here your ability to live almost to a hundred with the idea sustaining you through the years.  You take events and artifacts in your night travels from one culture and take them with you and display them with artifacts of the world you are in.

Where do ideas come from? In your world you use technology other worlds are already using.  Brought through dreams, meditation, through conference with other entities which often are silent but portraying ideas through icons.  Emphasis is always on progress with integrity.  You get that and see that.

The past is still happening, the future has already happened and here in the present we race to  catch up with it.  The babies are born knowing this and if their vocal apparatus was mature, they would be shouting at us.  This is the first concept that must be integrated.  It is necessary for man to relate to his history.  See where man has been and where he is today and what he has not learned.  If not learned,  it is repeated and circumstances next  will not be as conducive.  The past is still happening, the icons are being smashed, symbolizing centuries of man’s desire to translate the divine into the material.

Not only does man smash the icons but also the humans who built them.

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The Great Ahhhhman. . . . .

Your Answers Will Be Sufficient. . . .

The path to understanding the other is begun by understanding ourselves.  When we begin the inward path to self knowledge, we can then view ourselves with compassion and then view others with compassion.  All knowledge is applicable to the self.

It is not worthy of the name if we use it to manipulate and maneuver the other.  Then it is a game and all the world knows this game.  It is played all the time and with huge stakes.  Insight implies that the sight will be applied inward.  If it is not, it becomes manipulative of the other.

It is said that some individuals take everything personally.  That is why we have Earth Life.  If it cannot be applied inwardly and used for growth, of what purpose is it.  Granted, some things are just for fun.  But laughter, genuine laughter cleanses the toxic wastes from swollen glands.  It is good and refreshing  to be able to laugh at oneself.

It is only the secure one who can afford to sing in the shower and to yodel with the grandest opera shows a security not too many demonstrate.  To be able to take life lightly displays a growth not to be measured in the local currency.  It is the individual who has gone the route  and has placed things in their proper perspective.

It is only with inward growth can we see that life is not a death matter, that our selfhood does not depend on the trends of the moment, that our lives do not depend on what importance the world credits but what our own premises are.

Who we are, what we are, where we come from and to where we go is not adolescent fare.  It is the meat of our lives and the wine of our maturity.  To understand the why of ourselves, why am I, is the beginning.   It is not downhill all the way but to those who reveal themselves, to them it will be revealed.

To be able to say I know and am known is a beginning of the long trek homeward.  You will not be destroyed but you will construct on solid ground with secure footings.  Shifting sands will not trouble you and your own eternal why is on the way to being answered.

Your answers will be sufficient for you.

 

(excerpt from The Rib Cage. . . )

For in that place in you
which rocks with pain
and fills the night with cries,
we hear. . .

There is no thing that fails
to place itself forever in the Universe.
All is seen, all is heard and from
the rib cage housing the great heart,
the ethers carry

the great Ahhhhh Man. . . .

 

art by Claudia Hallissey

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Gods Searching For an Enduring Peace. . . .

Life:  a many faceted phenomenon. . .

It is possible that what is called hardening of the arteries is given the dreaded name of Alzheimers or dementia is the brain’s evolution brought about by aging or psychological trauma.  Either of those would be reason enough for portions of the brain closing.  But what happens should portions open?

If there has been no thought or education in the possibility of other worlds and times, what happens when inserted in the processes are unfamiliar sounds and glimpses?  And behavior not commensurate with these incidences that now are perceived as abnormal?  Can confinement now be not only a possibility but a surety?

There is science saying that we use only five percent of our brains.  One or two percent more puts us in the category of the question ‘why are you different?’  Just 2 percent.

It has people whispering about you as an adult and your peers shunning you as a child.  Yet being born with more of one’s brain opened means you will be seeing life differently than anyone else.

We focus on a narrow band of self created reality.  How much other is there to see?  I am really not certain.  I have lived with my view of the world, so it is what I know.  My details are not what others see the doctor said.  What do you see?  Only you know.

Oftentimes psychological shock will spring open doors that bring sounds into one’s consciousness never before experienced.  Yet the science doctors have stormed us with the information that only what is measurable in the laboratories is what is normal.

When one is presented with these sounds they have us off and running to the medics to reassure us that we are not going mad and are not crazy.  Yet when I asked a beloved why she went to church she told me that she hoped that what Jesus said is true.  That life is everlasting and seeing we will see and hearing we will hear.

And yet, yet, when presented by experience (she was a nurse) almost daily with evidence of it, she questioned what she was observing.

Her experience with spontaneous remission and unexpected deaths were not enough to convince her innate knowledge that all was not tied up in the pills and protocol.

When the tsunami broke through the sea wall of my skull and the sounds of moral outrage reigned in my head I shouted to the heavens to close up my head whatever that was supposed to mean.  Those were my shouted words.  Close up my head because  I was wide open to universal consciousness.  Psychological trauma was reason enough for my diminished self esteem to crumble.

Worlds penetrate and overlap boundaries with levels below and above what we focus on.  Earth is the classroom for learning.  Linear measures make learning easier.  Evolution is a many faceted phenomenon and we must broaden our premise to be able to deal with it effectively.

Otherwise all will eventually be running down the street  in our altogether being chased by white coats.

(excerpt from Universal Watch)

Worlds looming as non entities,
not proven by the laboratories
of the Science Gods, is life in other forms;
as intelligent, viable, thoughtful,
as intent on living within the realm
of their possibilities as we on Earth. . .

Searching as we do as gods for an enduring Peace..

artwork by Claudia Hallissey

 

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Adam, where art thou? . .

(In transferring data into subject titles from my journals for easy reference into the computer, I come across discussions which answer some questions I am now asked.  Some of the discussions have been with our sons whom I have mentioned in my posts.  They have been my best teachers.  In philosophy questions I have bowed to our philosopher lawyer son David who had the patience with me to clarify issues needing light.  In quantum theory all time is simultaneous and because I was born knowing that, (not easy way to live)  it is with no discomfort I speak as if it was yesterday. It will be everyone’s one day.   When I wrote the following in 1981 I was fifty.  Bear with me.)

Adam, where art thou?. . .

When the New Testament talked of the sins of the fathers being visited on the children, we now talk of psychological inequities.  The burden is far more than one generation bearing the problems.  We talk here of generations propounding the original guilt of even having been born.

What did we do to make ourselves walking clinics of all the psychological infirmities ever known to man?  I am not just one bearing witness to my own difficulties.  There are those who sit next to me and across and who have walked before me and still to come.  There is always  one who bluntly says I never needed to see a professional therapist and yet cannot see himself because of the log in his eye.

We are quick to see  the inadequacies in the other and are protected from seeing our own?  We know they would undo us if we probe too deeply our hearts and beneath our skin.  How long dare we blame our mothers and fathers and be blind to seeing how we continue the worn paths walked before?  Yet we do the only thing we know to do with the construction of our minds and bodies.

To change ourselves we must first have an idea of what we want to be.  And then it must be part of every waking moment, hammering at it with no rest.  Who has the time, energy or desire for that?  Our culture and society eagerly sanctions one’s desire to something material or concrete.  Who is going to sanction one’s aspiring, as David says, to sainthood?  But why  saintly to aspire to what is noble and human?

I want to be the most noble human being I can.  If it means putting myself through agonizing times trying to discern my inner motives and feeling about conditional and unconditional love, then so be it.  I need not aspire to sainthood because my godhood is intact.  It always was.  Somewhere along the line we lost our way.  Why, how, I don’t know.  I only surmise.

At the end I want them to say she gave it her best shot.  She learned who her god was and who mine is, loved herself and everyone else.  He (my mentor) did not say how hard it would be to love oneself.  Especially when the world was ready to condemn man en masse.  But he knew man could not love  his neighbor as himself until he saw  his god within himself.  What I granted to me I must grant to the Other.  Holds true for all of us.  If we dismiss others as we dismiss ourselves, it doesn’t say much for our feelings or behavior.

Ye are gods! The scripture says.  Did I not tell you  you are gods he said.  Where stands man who in his heart of hearts would deny his own divinity.  As god stands, man is.  As man stands, god is, I wrote in one of my poems.  Adam, where art thou?

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The Keys Of The Kingdom. . . .

The Keys of the Kingdom. . .

My good friend appeared at the door and said you have to learn to play and we start now.  Alas, another argument begun about our differences , proving again opposites can be friends.

It is my good fortune and sometimes a curse to have the ability to view and discern behavior.  Because I see clearly what is one man’s meat is another’s poison.

People approach work and play differently.  I watched our sons grow and in process changed attitudes.  Mowing lawns, chore but cleaning the garage, therapeutic with a ‘look what I found!’  Planting flowers with their Latin names an art and school homework eagerly approached as to subject.

With the youngest I looked forward to making a hockey rink every week after Christmas.  I happily stood in below freezing weather and spraying but 2 a.m. was my last spraying! I shouted!  I somehow related to my elderly neighbor who sprayed with hose and nozzle in the summer for hours.  There is something spiritual about watering whether ice rink or garden.

One inlaw daughter with her artistic talent makes brussel  sprouts look awesome.  Another can make tired furniture look new even with ongoing construction.  Coupling these details with their professional talents make these an extension of their work.

Where is learned the virtue of labor and beauty in the doing?  The magic of it all is in the heart.  It is approaching the place in mind that says all is play because the body is actualizing the mind’s intent and therein lies the beauty.

Fortunate you are if someone loved you that you with love are remembering and teaching.  The memory comes alive at sometime and we pay it forward.  Some have not known it but we can be the memory for their future.

A brother and I discussed this and he said sis,  you have found the keys of the kingdom, haven’t you?  There is no more than this in its deepest.  It is all art in the making.  My Mentor said that the fields are ready and the call is out for the vineyards.  There is virtue in the labor and beauty in the doing.

A Belief System. . . (an excerpt). . .

The answers will be forever hidden
in a place no one chooses to look;
the hearts and minds of those
who love this earth with passion.
Surprised they will be
to see in the palm of their hand

the keys of the kingdom . . .

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Prayer In Concert. . .

In Conference. . .

I was a young girl when the priest came to our home and my mother saying. ‘I don’t know who teaches her because I don’t.  I don’t know where she gets her ideas.’  Years of criticism for my different ideas but my work habits were praised.  I was diligent, thorough and needing praise for a starving heart.

On my road to Damascus experiences when my world crashed in my mid thirties, I could not believe good intentions and love were so easily crushed.  With the help of a good doctor and my belief that I was still choice goods, rebuilding began.  Not easy to do when one’s only bastion of strength was in thought and thinking.  And one’s reason for being were three young sons who needed their mother at home.

Some call it prayer, others call it meditation.  I called it duelogues because oh my I argued.  I seldom carried it out loud because of setting off unrest in others I learned, hence the duelogues.  I crashed the gates of heaven because how could what was taught in church school and on Sundays be so wrong when I worked so hard to do everything right by the church, by the book, by heart and even invented.

If it could not work where I was, then it was a lie and I wanted no part of it.  Heaven  convinced me that it could work and did and then we began our work.  And work it has been.  24/7.

Then over the years dialogues and then In Conference.  The poetry was continuing along with the journals when I found myself scribing.  I typed hard copy because of my need to see in print what I heard was psychologically sound and philosophically palatable.  It had to make sense.  And my life had to show it.  It has and I continue to work it.

To make my work understandable, the small voice within, god within, comforter, or the smooth pipe that Emerson called it that the angels or the muses speak through, works at one with me.  I hope this post makes my work easier to understand.  I am unable to explain the thought processes.  But it has been a lifetime of mutual trust.  (I enclose an excerpt from July 1, 2015 journal and also a poem for that day.  Sometimes they coincide and this day is one. It will make the poem easier to understand.  Some editing was done as I pick up the words)

From the Teachers . . .much will jar the houseboats of peoples and they will look again at the justice and injustices of partnerships whether in the same house or not.  We know the intricacy of such matters.  We know your penchant to keep words to a minimum.  The aim is to get as many as possible to the table and to think.  Eat and think.  One and the same.  What is being fed will make its way to the minds of men and there will be growth and there will be a road that has been scythed for travel.  We will have a striving for peace.  People will realize that the difference they make within themselves will be the greatest difference they can possibly make.

Prayer In Concert. . . from the other side. . .

It was prayer you held in concert
with the Great One who marked
your presence on his counter of beads.

Talks, mostly dialogues, it seems,
and held court with sages long asleep
on couches too soft for too long. . .

Rise!  You shouted and they, appalled
at the sight of woman,
rose and were rightly chastised.

They had forgotten the bread lines
and the penniless people and
children’s bellies bloated from hunger.

You brought them to shame and now
they remember how the ivory towers
separated their lives from the
grime in the streets below.

Now you tell them in languages understood
how deep the hunger for knowledge
can be as if for bread; to keep alive
a mind from sleep;  (like scourge
it contaminates all minds of men).

We wake them up and put to work
the fathers of the children forever seeded

with memory from a place the angels tread.                                    

 

 

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Conversations: World Creation. . .

 

Conversations:  World Creation . . .

If it were not for the fact that our David came home for chemo treatment on a regular basis and he and I had dinner together at home, I would never have had the mind bending conversations we did.

It was then I learned of world creation for the first time when he said in an unrecognizable voice, ‘ by damn, if anyone could create a world, you can.’  It was a possibility discussed in his major which was Philosophy.

I did not come across the creation theory until years later when studying Robert Nozick’s book, The Examined Life.  He said before his untimely death that he thought possibly that humans were in the creation business, in training for world building.  And here David and I were discussing this years earlier at the dinner table.  (I have had some very good teachers?)

The following was from a journal entry of November 8, 1983 and I scribed the teacher’s words.

When your actions are such that no ill will is intended then acceptance of a decision need not destroy you.  It is part of growth which allows a future to be decided.  You have spent a large time thinking that a decision has been made before your heart knows that decision.

We do not take lightly a deference to opinions.  Your philosophy shows already what happens to choices in a world of  worlds.  Yet you think a forced decision is no decision.  You have already taken into consideration possibilities.

If possibilities are probable, then we have already built worlds.  No need now to hesitate.  No need now to reconsider what is already imprinted in a world somewhere.

We need to take all probabilities and let them fall where they may.  Now we know that all things are considered at some level.  Now we know there is a somewhere and a somewhen for all things.

Let the answers be what they may and you build your world with the intentions which come from your heart.

(if there is energy left I may do a small volume on world building with the Given poetry on worlds through this lifetime.  Right now though after much time trying to choose a short poem on decisions,  my thoughts lead me to choosing a heart theme,  with the words of the last line from the entry.  ‘You build your world with the intentions which come from your heart.’  So close to Valentine’s Day and within a short time that my elder will be ready to give the word on The Psalms of Love,  I chose the following.  In journeying what one wishes is not what one thinks is priority but what one gets, IS.  Not up front at first,  but in the final analysis,  it Is.)

Not Wished but Needed. . .

It is a heart
full blown
inclined to burst.

But for now
it beats its song
too sweet not to hear. . .

Why, can it not be
forever inclined
in a direction of choice?

Instead fully charged
toward what is not wished. . .

but needed. . .

 

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A Need To Know. . .

 

In the sixties I wrote a poem called Resolution which ended with the following lines.

(excerpt from Resolution)

I have come into the Light
but what to do?
On the day I was one, I became two.
Now I am two.

What to do but seek and seek again
until I find I walk this earth

not godless.

And following ten years later I wrote having chosen the Nazarene as my mentor. . .

(excerpt from Cactus Jesus)

You said that when I knew you,
I would know me.
We are gods on common ground,
knowing we choose our own Golgotha.
Seeking your divinity,

I found my own.

(from journal entry October 16, 2015. . the teacher speaks.)  and the god within had a voice needed to be heard and accounted for.  You wrote those words a half century ago.  Yet you never tried to unwrap them because the need was not there for them yet and neither was there the courage to respond with a yeah, now  I am not godless.  You have the Within God and this has been the secret with the many. You have known of it for sometime and long before you were already talking about marching orders and that was when the children were small and needed the teacher mother on hand to give them their enchanted childhood.  You know even now that you were given the necessary guidance at the time.

We know the involuntary knowledge puts you on some edge of something.  Should you stand and speak for the god within what would you say that would be convincing?   Does the average person want the tyrant task master of your life who has been your goad for over 85 years?  Coupled with your mother’s jenny genes?  What of those who find that they can talk down the desires of that inner god and outplay him/her and quiet their conscience? 

I asked my friend Kath why she went to church on Sunday.  She said she hoped that what Jesus said was true.  Knock and the door shall be opened.  I don’t think a knock would be heard in these days of devices and loud noises.  I had to crash the gates to be heard.  There is a Comforter or a god within that is to be heard bringing to mind all we had forgotten to remember.  A friend laughingly said it was an argument as to what we remember and what we need to learn.  A need to know was my ohm and armor.  And what kept the bridge at a safe distance.

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Wandering The Galaxies. . .

Wandering The Galaxies. . .

Again,  I am here with pictures,  primitive to be sure,  that I drew of what I encountered in  the dream world written on September 9, 1991.  Previously I had shown the pictures I had drawn of the gentle fishes in the post on this blog called Worlds I know. . .to speak of. . . which was on September 3, 2017.   I wrote then that as I continued working on cross referencing my journals with other work which corroborates them, I would share the pictures and the journals.

I came across the notes I had taken when rereading the journals of the pictures you see here.  I knew I had the sketches and showed them to my son John.  He said I was ahead of my time.  This week we activated solar panels on our home  after much protocol.  There obviously are worlds where other forms of energy are utilized to a greater extent.  I share a part of the journal of that date. While I was not fully awake and the dream was fresh,  I drew the sketches you see.  My input to the dialogue taking place was . .

(The energy on the mountain.  What I thought were trees in the vision, shaped like trees, were not were they?  They somehow brought in energy to run houses without chimneys.  And from those strange shaped trees I thought on the mountain.  From a distance I thought them trees, but they were energy sources, weren’t they?  I wish there were credentials to back me up, but then I wouldn’t have taken this seriously but just a powerful play . )

I could not have envisioned this on my own nor have thought one day to be living here in California where solar panels would be discussed to offset the high cost of electricity.  But almost 30 years ago I had  sketched other worlds where gentle fishes and houses without chimneys were evidenced.  I had heard of Rachel Carson and her worries for this planet.  My concerns were immediate and I was the person on the premises needing to deal with why my world was wobbly when I tried so hard.

I told my sons I needed a Hazmat suit when I entered my workroom.  The emotional vibes are hard on this aged frame from a life of memories relived.  Memory is both joyous and painful and always entwined.

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Worlds I Know. . . to speak of. . .

A few weeks ago there was an evolutionary find with a faceless fish.  I knew that graphic because I have what you see beside this in an October 8. 1987 journal entry.  I knew it was somewhere in my journals but there was no way I could remember where.  Last night as I was note taking I came across this.  In my night treks I have entries that depict worlds I encounter.  I will share them when I come across the entries.

From this journal entry October 8, 1987. . . .I wrote. . . There were so many exquisite dreams  or consciousness of worlds so gentle.  A Nord, a Kern,  so many little gentle  fishes and  animals shaped so strangely,  but so gentle.  These creatures were moving with their babies, scurrying every which way.  Blunt heads and tails moving.

So much is given, so much to write about but who cares.  I care and that is a beginning.  Why not create a need for something that will expand the limitations structures have given us.  Something that will move the lines out that will give my grands memories of life in other dimensions.  I cannot be certain,  but knowing who I am,  only within my structures, I can suppose what they are, carrying what I am in them.

 (the following quotes are the Teacher’s response from August 12, 1987 concerning the worlds I know. . .)  we are using what you do to the fullest extent and you will be remembering more and more of where you have been.. . The worlds you inhabit are worlds most avoid because they are unfamiliar and cause discontent and frighten.  You appear where you are needed and the one looking for you appears where you are.

They are not just one world.  There are places of beauty that still the heart.  Places of poverty that touch the living heart and strum with songs of despair that cannot but help but be heard.  There are barren places, lush places and places that speak of the mind.)

 

 (when I did the journal entry on the date, I drew the fish as I remembered them in the margins.  I copied them on the board this morning best as I could.  When I saw the graphic on Television,  I knew it right away!.  I am humbled.)

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