From an Upper Floor

I am so pleased to be writing this post to let you know that the paper back edition of Psalms of Love is now available in the Amazon.com store.  I want to thank you for being so patient with the ambiguities of publishing and getting it altogether to match whatever the specifics were.  In this day of state of the art devices,  getting all factors working simultaneously and without conflict takes some doing.

I want to thank my family, all of them,  for allowing this sometime not very state of the art mother and grandmother the idiosyncrasies commensurate with my lack of knowledge about how things work.  It seems that a workable language should be understood but life today requires more than that.  Aahh well,  I try.  I try.  And they are good people to put with my foibles.

I am proud of this work and if I think about it for more than a minute I will make another ocean.  There is something about a creative endeavor that brings on the tears,  however much of it is a Given.  I said that I reached very high for this work,  so high and the cost was dear.  But the result has been a peace that surpasses understanding with a knowledge that has no meaning except to me.

For this time and this place,  it is done.  In another place,  another something will be demanded,  and because this was accomplished,  I may approach with trepidation,  but I will approach the task.  I have been gifted magnificently with our sons and the loves they have chosen.  There is nothing this world could give that matches all of them.

I will continue to write until I know it is time to lay down the pen.  To have a voice has been another gift that I do not take lightly.  It is a responsibility as well as deeply satisfying to be able  to state my views from a lifetime of thought and study.

I have no credentials, just accumulations of classes and books that fueled the beating of my heart.   Even two cardiac arrests and two strokes convinced no one my work was finished, least of all the cosmic element.  So  we begin again.  And again.

The daughter of one of my best friends asked to hear me read and said in a whisper,  why do I think God is talking to me in your words?  I don’t aspire to her beliefs but I reached for the highest and best in my belief system.  I hope I help you to relate what is highest and best in yours.

Time Now To Grow Up. . .

There are times that call men to action and this is one of them.  It is time to give way to new ideas  that have been incubating for a long time within the hearts and minds of those given to thought.  We are long delayed in giving space to different kinds of consciousness.  Long delayed in giving space to those whose minds and physical brains have doors open to places the average person does not.

The quiet mind is a comfort zone for most.  The comfort being in the place where the meals are hot and the days fall into a pattern that give little leeway for the eventful to happen unless taken into hands of those of ill intent.

Long past the time now we have gone expecting man to become zealous in his attitude to bring peace and  growth to those of us on our Earth.  The human is not only physical but is divine.  The  human had his beginning with the stars and is intent on claiming this innate knowledge.

With every event that comes to life in the human sphere seems to bring calamity in large doses.  Wars are taken as common within the boundaries of the race that prolongs the anguish of ancients.  And little reason lies behind the events except giving action to desires that look to give meaning to the life that has little in it.

Long has man looked for reason to add adventure to his day.  And leaving the children and spouses behind to do so in the names of work or patriotism or to hunt seemed reason enough.  We take to task these reasons.  We take to task the lazy minds that look for physical adventure and not the considerate thoughtful work to give life meaning.  Why the need to be entertained than for minds to look for answers that would give meaning to the purpose of life?

Long has man preferred to fight wars over boundaries instead of looking to what unites the human race.  Instead of looking to what unites the spirit in manner to bind one to another.  Is it so boring for  man to look to what will prolong and give impetus to the progression of humankind?  Is there so little love between man that there is no common ground?

From a cosmic view, other worlds must look to see what they can invest in the dailyness to spur man on to promote this planet to growth and progress.  We look to see where we can inject some adrenalin to make the intensity work with fervor.

It is time long gone that the one god, the one world, the one man, the one consciousness be held onto with such religious fervor.  It is time to expand the thinking to include the divine within each human giving access to the spiritual energy and psychic fulfillment which permeates and upholds the universe and universes.  It makes for accountability of the each in his life with the knowledge that names are attached to actions that will demand restitution.

For too long man has reclined in his comforts with the god he created who will forgive and forget all his transgressions.  That with forgiveness because his beginning was less than ideal and the burden was a heavy one to carry that he would be forgiven whatever transgressions he committed.  The news now is that names are attached to these errors in judgments and these errors must be accounted for.

Misdemeanors are different than sins.  Sins are different than psychological impairments.  And impairments of judgments are still not dismissed but lessons must be learned so that progression in human lives will not be held in abeyance but will have  time for full potential.

Babies born are wondering why they are in kindergarten when they have knowledge of worlds in attendance to the great god of wonder that is the rolling thunder of the universe.  Why they are not part of the action that rules other worlds with motion and movement toward great progress.  But are lost in the illusion of slow motion that seems to immerse the adults in such pleasures.  They come to us as twigs already bent with a history ready to teach and we step on their heads.

We are in the midst of worlds looking at this planet and wondering the outcome of its wondrous elements.  It should have been held as graduation for souls becoming stars again.  Instead it is held as the playground of souls who have learned the sophistication of its accoutrements and given them a place to play forever.

Time is now that changes will be evident.  Time is now that much will be demanded.  And the young whose memories now of the violence that has taken their friends and innocence will demand restitution and behavior that comes with adulthood.

The children shall lead us.  And force the children in adult bodies to grow up and let loose  the behaviors that have kept this beautiful planet hostage.  It is time and the children shall lead because they have memory.  Of the worlds they have come from and where they exhibited behavior that showed accountability.

It is time for all of us to grow up.

Journal entry March 12, 1990. . . . .

I can remember thinking and finally saying out loud though I happened to be in the basement, I could tell who came in from outdoors by what swept over me.  It could have been their vibes or their energy blanket or it could have been something else that I filed into my brain since time began.

But I would know before they took a step in just who it was; even as a child I knew when my brothers or sister or parents came in.  It was only when our children were born that I realized that not all people were this way.  When I met someone, sometimes for the first time, sweeping over me would be the feeling of them.  I learned I was reacting to their emotional climate.

It is traumatic for the young child, the sensitive one, who complains of a stomach ache at the thought of school, to be away from the safe environs of home,  afraid of being laughed at or throwing up, or the washroom being too far.  How to explain this to parents?  They cannot and unless there is a divergent path taken, they will simply say  they have stomach problems and spend time in the bathroom.   Never realizing they have become the emotional pit stop for the world’s ills.

Sometimes the sensitive one must simply vacate the room to protect himself from the slings of emotional flagrancy. They have to leave when emotions rampage or they will throw up. There is seldom a someone who understands to protect the child or the child in the adult body. There is no protection for others’ emotions crashing onto them.  Even contained violent emotions can be deadly to the vulnerable.

The triggers for these occasions can be anything.  When I was a child in grade school the sound of a siren going by would find me running home from school certain that calamity had befallen my family.  Certain I was my mother would be dead or the house burned to the ground.

We were not spawned in a ditch.  We are a holy beginning.  We were before we are and we have a history.  We are a history.

To the one who said I draw conclusions all over the place  (it was not meant as a compliment)  and make connections no one else does,  I say to see all life connected is what Ancients did.  And I do this here and now because of those who cavort on Olympus.  But they worked their days on Earth as I now work mine.

(I was almost Sixty when the above was written.  I am now almost Ninety.  After years of therapy to accept the fact that my head was different but not mentally ill,  the doctors and I formed relationships that supported me.  I learned that there are those like me who are out of place in a world that has difficulty with ideals that work elsewhere.  And the Elsewhere has many worlds.  We embrace to different degrees values that can work here but at a very high cost.  If we are fortunate our families gather to protect what soon becomes the isolated child.  What is not realized is that  mavericks contribute in ways necessary for human progress but not noted until they are absent.  Embrace the obstinate child.  They chose you as parents for special reasons.)

Photo by John Stanley Hallissey