Archive | Observations

We Had But One Name. . . .(in Genesis)

Perhaps Doris Lessing and I would not be close friends because of commitment.  But I can and do admire her brilliance with the written word and some of her ideas.  Two  things of value stand out.  The first is of  long standing and I spent hours locating this source only to find it at midnight in a steno book I happened to pick up before closing shop.

From her book Sirius. . . Laws are not made.  They are inherent in the nature of the galaxy. .of the universe.. . . After a lifetime of independent study, another of my conclusions is  that laws are inherent in the nature  of all life.  It is folded into a conclusion I had reached early on that man is basically good because man is basically god, (divine).  If this were not so we long ago would have gone down the tube and stayed dead never to rise. 

There is the thought that good can be derailed for a time, but to dismiss and be murdered forever cannot happen; because of the inherent good, basic good in life itself.  As the saying goes, god don’t make no junk.  Because of our narrow focus, our conclusions are not fully realized .  When the larger picture is ours, different conclusions will also be ours. 

Standing where we are, whether the terms are God or Life, Yahweh, or Father or Science it all yields truth as far as we can acknowledge, especially if our actions show that our lives bear witness to what we espouse.  And  our actions enhance humanity, there is little argument.

The next quote I found in researching Lessing.  “Very few people really care about freedom, about liberty, about the truth, very few. Very few people have guts, the kind of guts on which a real democracy has to depend. Without people with that sort of guts a free society dies or cannot be born.”

This is a loaded statement because most  people live lives nested in fear.  And the fear takes many  forms in job loss, prestige, threats, money, and whatever turns us immobile when our buttons are pushed.

It takes a courage unbelievable to have the knowledge of how to correct a problem and yet to work around the known frailties of humans involved to prevent an eternity of more anguish to shovel.  One’s own integrated knowledge can be managed and democracy chooses her heroines and heroes.  Welcome Frances Haugen!

We see a congress of able bodies leveled and paying homage to a whiny loud voice.  For shame., for shame. . . 

artwork by Claudia Hallissey


I Crashed The Gates. . . .

I have spent time in why I have reached some conclusions and also wish to write a post to explain a bit about my ability to scribe.  I have been into scribing since the ‘60’s and even have the first poem, almost committed to memory.  And that is not an easy mode for me, to memorize.

The scribing, which is the ancient art that produced sacred words no one reads in the Bible which is housed in almost every home,, with tools an old lady should not know how to use or should have forgotten by this time.

And why was I nudged into journal keeping?  I never had kept notes before as a  younger but when the children came and being married to a community worker who was never home, I was the parent on premise and did not want sons needing to explain their mother’s inadequacies. 

In my terminus, I need to look back and see a life involved on many levels.  There was the parent and person and property manager, home maintenance and laundry, pressing expert and good cooker,  yard keeper as well as appearing publicly of course; dressed, not in sweats.  And sometimes all in the same week.  Without journals I would say it  did not happen.  Could not.

When I was in my study time when the family slept, whole versions of what I heard or was in duelogue with I wrote as fast as I could.  Much later I learned it called scribing.  And what seemed a  fault because I felt isolated, turned into a godsend for me.

On July 21,’90—I scribed. . . It has strengthened you beyond measure and given rise to talents long thought to be dead.  Yet here we are participating in an event of ancient times with legendary systems operating.  Yet in today’s language and the use of the computer, how to explain it?  No need, not in your time.

Listen  God, you said this morning.  I am here and this is what is going on.  It is a wise soul to bring oneself into position to be listened to.  Remember, that to reach the point of confrontation, it had to be real.  Your memories, however obtuse had to rise and be accounted for.  The memories are valid, complete with the ones of adjusted time frames where you are.  Complete with the agonies produced and dismissed.  For in their time, they were sufficient.

Listen god, you will say and we will listen.  The Great Spirit harkens to the sound when the position is thought through and the footwork completed.  We love as avidly as you .  Go and bless the good day.


The Bigger Picture is Always More. . . .


  (I happened upon these scanned items in a file and was near tears.  I have read them many times but in this form, cannot remember doing them.  In reviewing my life,  what brought tears was the fact that everything I write about is backed up.  And learning for me is integrating what is taught and becomes part of my reference.  I came upon something I  just recently posted about psychic phenomena being not magic but simply what is learned through lifetimes that moth and rust do not destroy.  The Nazarene taught that and called them talents.  He assumed people would grow up and not be childish forever.  And these talents would go from world to world with us.  What is common knowledge to some of us, is magic still  to some and worse, spooked people  and put innocents to death as in Salem, Massachusetts, in our shameful history.)

Mar 11, 1989———–Authority

I cannot deny what my eyes are telling me about my physical self.  And I could not be so cruel  to ask a child or tell a child that what he sees is not so.  If that were the case, I would deny to him his own authority which are his senses and by which he must live.  If he had extra senses of which I was or was not aware,  I could not deny those even though they may be outside my frame of reference.  It would be cruel to the child for then his own authority, his own self would be forever doubted and his common sense would not serve him in even the simplest situations.  I would have no one else to blame for that but me.

Mar 16, 1989—-History—Genetic

It takes one to know one.  The maxim is as old and still stands.  If feeling runs deep about a subject and a person finds no parallel in this life,  we must go deeper.

It may not be feeling connected to this person but feelings connected to this history, genetically written.  Shall we toss out the genetic history, but then in favor of what?  Man would then have to face his source, his beginning to gain footing, else we would be like Adam and Eve.  Again.  One must of needs supply a history to give meaning to the day for when there is no history, there is also no now and certainly no future.  It is only with a history does the uniqueness begin to show and the ability to clarify that uniqueness and to be a positive influence must be because the peace has already been made with the history.

 Mar 28, 1989—-Earth, ,Prayer, Eternity

The Earth will cherish the soul who cherishes the Earth.
Nature will revere the one who reveres Nature.
And the God will rest securely within the heart of one who reveres the All in All they do.  Life is God and God is Life.  There is no distinction.  We sit within the lap of God.

 Apr 06. 1989—-Bent of the Tree

What we have are the results of looking inward to find a basis for the way people are.  And the way they are has been the best of the tree.  Man has been in error assuming the newborn a blank, clean slate.  And what we have is the tree already bent previously or apriori.  And because the coping mechanism has always been in direct proportion to the disillusionment is the way the bigger body will lead the life.

And when you view the sulking small child,  you already know in the making is the bigger child whose silent sulk will be used to arouse guilt.  To assure vengeance,  you can be sure. (Pray that in the child’s life will be someone who is admired, loved and respected to be the role model that child emulates.  Only with personal intent and desire and yearning to be like the role model,  will the direction be changed.)


Observations. . . .

I live in a neat house.  On the day I set out the trash, garbage pickers drive by to look for good things.  They drive away when they realize my garbage is like everyone else’s.  They soon realize I don’t throw away good stuff.

For too many people life is a closed circuit TV.  But the channels to other  realities are open.  In what was once a quiet head, one wonders who left the gym door open at the end of the hall.

Do we care about the other’s survival?  Only to a point because we think we cannot survive without the other.  To insure our own survival, we try to mold the Other to the likeness of what we value.

We tire eventually of depending on sheer endurance.

Man should give his reasoning mind a chance because his heart has already instructed it.

Homilies may get to be boring but they are the tie that binds.  They are the moorings that keep us from floating without direction.

Too much is left undone by man’s cliché used as his out. . if God be willing.  The truth is, man is not willing.

Physical boundaries allow us to function in a physical world.  But our glimpses into other realities let it be known we are of sound mind and not boundaried in all worlds.

It is our God Within with glimpsed promises of life everlasting.  To dismiss these is to dismiss a gift of spirit that physical life cannot express.


artwork by
Claudia Hallissey


We are what we know . . .and cannot pretend. . .

(sometimes I need to repeat a post simply because I cannot improve upon what I learned.  And I want to say to the parents of youngers,  listen to them and see from where your kinders come.  I want to plant what this younger said at 7 into those who sit in power and ask what happened to the knowledge you were born with?  And I weep with the same words I cried out loud at the same age. . .you don’t know what you are doing to one another!) 


Owning the experience. . .

He was just seven years old and hurt and  upset because his brothers and his dad questioned his knowledge. How do you know, they asked him, how do you know?  He stormed past the dining room table and shouted at them.  I know that I know! 

And I heard an ancient head saying the same words and was amazed at this younger of mine.  Of course you do, I said, of course.  And I hugged him because when you know something and do not question yourself, you hold the oldest and first keys.  You had the best mentor and metaphysician and were loved greatly.

A reader wrote to me and said there is a great distinction between knowing and information. She was right and few people would be able to differentiate between the two words. 

Many gather information and can quote others profusely.  They can say what others have said and use the same words.  But they cannot use their own words because the experience is not theirs.  It makes all the difference.

As long as the experience misses them they have not the words to describe it.  Only their God Within knows the footwork not done. Their language  consists of information and not their knowledge. 

My seven year old spoke from an ancient knowledge.  To know you know means you own the knowledge.    

And only you and your God Within knows of your footwork to own the experience. 

And the cost of how many lifetimes. . .sweet Jesus, how many? . . . 




we do what we can. . . . .

Researching  a topic  in spite of all the good intentions, its  purpose is they say constructively, to criticize.  Make no mistake, criticism  in fancy dress still means  you are wrong.   They want to set you right.

In this case, I realized that all my life I talked to animals and they to me.  Trouble only started when I said out loud that I knew something because I understood them.  Others feel the same as I do but most say nothing out loud. 

The blue jay when I mimicked him tried to take me down and missed.  Maudie the dove, allowed me to watch her and when I had to move her and her eggs,   let me and even pick up her hesitating chicks to give a boost to their first flight.

Like the bird who rested for a second on my back while I sat on the patio.  When in grief we were ready to put Prince down, I hesitated somehow hoping something would save me and my heart would not break.

 As if printed in bas relief were the words above his head staring straight at me, . .you would not make me do this alone?  I said out loud of course not and followed him out.

What brought me to this was Leroy, our Newfie, who yodeled and told me how happy he was and feeling good.  I kissed his bushy head and when in the kitchen realized that I knew he felt good because he had transferred a picture of me massaging him with lotion the day before and it helped his itchiness. 

Coming to mind was Temple Grandin, who even with a handicap was able to communicate with animals, making  a life helping them.

Not as grand a scale of course,  but in my way, in my frame of reference,  this is what I do and I would suppose, lots of people.  We have animals we love who love us.  In our way we take care of each other.

If we approach our commitments in such manner,  life will be magnificent in all aspects and evolution will be enjoined across the board for human enrichment.  The timing for this will be prime because how could goodness however small in scope, not be used?  If it was not, we would not be.

And we will find what we think is a small effort, is in effect, magnificent.  There is nothing this world can give to reward your heart’s offering.  Only the Greater Heart understands its value.                                                                   


the immigrant. . . .


Immigrant. . . 

I watched as you worked
a mind through endless turmoil,
sifting and sorting truth and fantasy
and arriving. . . 

You opened eyes and unblinkingly stated,
‘you have always known, haven’t you?
How did you do it?’

I knew I could not take
even a moment of self revelation away, 
answered, ‘in my way.  I loved and
raised babies and painted
roses on their cheeks and
planted evergreens in their hearts.’

And in a way I had not known,
closed a part of memory so I could do it
all for real, so I would use the same rules
you did and everyone else.

But you did not play by the rules.
They were changed so quickly for you
that you could not switch tracks.

So now I write why.
I compose odes and melodies
and tie my feelings in knots
and look for entry into a world
I know by heart.

It is one I never left, even to come here.
I carried it around like a money belt
all the days of my life.
And I know now that when I go

it will be to the old country.


July18, 1987

We are all immigrants and have worn our coats of many colors.  We  participate in this magnificent experiment of these United States.  . . sharing similar features and wondrous histories with life everlasting wearing our coats of many colors.  Go to the quiet place and look at who you are with heart. 




The Scales Are Just. . . .


We are not  the product of one lifetime, but many lifetimes and many frameworks.  And we are a reference point to other frameworks.
The Ego which needs continual stroking becomes unwieldly and obscures divine passage.
‘I am only human’ is an excuse that has been overworked.
To dismantle another’s world demands that we stay around long enough to help build another one.
Within is the rest and without is the charm.
We need to see things as they more nearly are.
To create a reality is everyone’s business and cooperation is necessary.  It is a communal endeavor.
To build a philosophy to fit a perspective and includes our commitments has a high cost.
The highest framework we can choose is the one by which the heart is healed.
Heaven rushes to the side of our cradle to give proof that we are not abandoned.
To ask presumes the divine presence in the Other.  It is a love affair of the greatest kind.
We aim to educate the heart.   And the condition of the heart will determine the cost of tuition.
If by our presence  we signify criticism, we lecture without opening our mouths.


The Hard Work of Thought. . . .

It seems going through my head are many things connecting to all things.   Nothing stands alone.  I am not sure  where to begin, if there is a beginning.  Perhaps that is what we have to learn, that there is no beginning and no end.  It can start anywhere for me and therefore anywhere for you.  And that is a big, a huge morsel to swallow.

For me a big deal.  Because with every thought,  I am hesitating with even telling or sharing anything without a prelude.  And if I don’t explain,  then what I say has to stand alone and make some sense.  Otherwise we are reduced to groans and hums.  The question then should be, does it matter?

If you care enough to question why? then it matters.  If not,  take it from where you stand and run with what you have in hand and head.  It will be enough for now.  Later may require something more.

I read last night a scribing of June  27, 1991 (yesterday quantum time) that the purpose of life is not meant to be happy.  It was meant to be lived and learned from.  I came to Earth with that knowledge, dragging a foot from my last world. It was not meant to be a comfort ride through life.

Already there was confirmation that the twig was already bent and would continue to grow.  That’s what I mean about connections.  The Nazarene said ‘as the twig is bent, so shall it grow.’  

Too many think we are a clean slate to be written on.  Some are and they are newbies to this classroom.  Too many problems are created by thinking we all are newbies.  For those of us with histories, each lesson with  synergism, integrates.  We are the hair pulling parent claiming ‘I treat them all the same!’  And followed by ‘I don’t know where she/he learns that’!

I look at the national scenes of the insurrection against our democracy and the souls who trampled our Constitution, breaking the windows of our governmental house,  searing the eyes of the child holding the book telling us how humanity is special.  I hear the child question his mother asking why daddy is mad and what means elite? . . .

Pictures easily show what we are not part of and demand little from us.  Words demand work from us. Undeniably we have seen our devices of entertainment evolve to become weapons of war.   Devices evolve but not the human hands holding them unless the hard work of thinking be done.  

When thought has us asking heart questions, the Divine Within  already nudges us with  answers.  Our children are reading the books giving them the right words to ask the right questions. 

Please be the right parents for them.  They chose you by heart.

Family Photo



With Credence To Time Warps. . .

With Credence To Time Warps. . .

(I had a dream where there was an old woman muttering over a  young woman in a  body cast with only eyes and mouth showing.  I told the old woman to release her. I  don’t know why she was punished, perhaps for prostitution.  And a person throwing a baby gleefully in the air  I told stop!  Possible joint dislocation with that kind of rough play!)

I edited this journal entry of July 19, 1992  for posting, saying  . . . .I am not confused.    No, because I already  know.     I see where the past is still  happening someplace.   I see ways to rewrite history; to bring from here a portion of history that  could help a segment of another.  How do I know that or even think it?  Imaging taking place where? 

There can be no change unless there is a shifting in the mental capacities of the nitty gritty.  Like soap and water in the health care system.  Or change in forgiving one another in the revenge: punishment concept.  You see, unless there are minute changes in even the genetic structure  . . . here my hands stutter. . .

There are lots of ways to make changes, aren’t  there?   You step in and change a past in a world whose present reality would profit wisdom from our present reality. We change a past whose present welcomes our intrusion into their present with new facts. 

In my dream with the old woman muttering over a young woman,  releasing the young one put a pause in  the genetic structure that would have taken centuries to overcome.  Or the one tossing carelessly the child in the air  and ordered to stop gave him pause in action.  Joint dislocation was reason enough.

What is puzzling is that I grasp this.  That somehow by altering the consciousness of the past, we are in turn altering the genetic line through which we pass.   And speeding up the process of evolution which needs speed since we are running out of time, Earthwise and human wise.  It is enough to put us all to sleep, permanently.

Genetic engineering can wipe out diseases but changes in thinking must be done on a level where time lines of knowledge and lack thereof would welcome intervention.   And what better level than education in another dimension.  DNA can be restructured and codes rewritten in cell structure are being learned.

Not lost on me is this 1931 farm girl  giving credence to time warps, but education in time warps to boot.   In primitive form was a germ of an idea in a dream with a lesson.  Somehow lost is the validity of our connection to life.  And also lost is our pride in learning.  Everything teaches but we must be alert by feeding our minds humanity’s potential for good .

Life is everlasting and with encouragement we would also ensure humanity’s progress.


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