Alysse Aallyn

Category: #BestRevenge

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    Fruit = FRUITION “Sweet Family”

    “Enjoy!”

    The Fruit is the sweet result of day after day of concentrated sunshine. The Fruit is a summit of achievement; centuries of unique conditions ending in delight for the senses poetry for the tongue.

    Raspberry, Strawberry, paw-paw, pomegranate, banana, apple, pear, cherry; so much nectar; so many wines. Together they symbolize for us the moment of celebration: Harvest, when there is nothing left to do but relax and enjoy. But Fruit has even more to offer than that.

    We revel in the concept of a storehouse full to bursting; a pleasure-palace of magical alchemy where the very humblest fertilizers such as dirt and sweat are transformed into visible, taste-able joy. The blood of the planet becomes our blood and the most potent chemicals of its deepest mines flood our aching emptiness with repletion.

    The Tantric Garden Harvest concept says you are about to enjoy the fruits of all your yearning, planning, efforts. You are looking into the eyes of, touching the hands of a potential Soulmate. You are close, close. The Harvest invites us to just revel in the bliss – actual and potential – of this moment. It is critical that you not “numb out.” The temptations will be there. There are plenty of chemical fast-tracks to ‘letting your guard down.” But you don’t want to do that. You want to explore that very “guard” and not make a dash for a mythical “finish-line” because the essence of Tantra is there is no finish line.

    There is only the Now, a universe of infinite possibility which has just been doubled as you gaze into the Soulmate’s eyes and hold the Soulmate’s hand.

    Sweet Family

    I want you
    To deliver our children
    With your tongue
    That deft baker’s paddle would
    Lever them out
    Warm & fresh
    In their marzipan coats
    Trailing the pineapple
    Blood-rind
    Traced with poppy-seed adornments
    Marking them as ours.
    A little boy with a pastry-tube
    Rosette between his legs
    A girl as hard & round as
    A hot cross bun
    Petals furled on her
    Crystallized convolvulus
    In whose depths lie stored
    All the honeys of the future.

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    Breakthrough = EPIPHANY “Valentine”

    “I get it!”

    Suddenly we see the way!
    Breakthroughs look forward, never back; we are different people afterwards. Often, we feel they have been “building up” for a long time; we are amazed at what we didn’t see. But what we see now cannot be unseen. We should congratulate ourselves on our new pair of eyes, our new pair of legs. Our new life.

    You connected! A potential soulmate is now present and real. We explore our soulmate, past and future, psychically and physically. Each moment feels truthful and intense. You are on Cloud Nine.

    However, new understanding raises us to a lofty plateau. We now see that how a relationship develops over time is as important as who the relationship is with. We understand that some Soulmates are not able to back up their promises with behavior. They “want” to but are weak and feel helpless.

    Don’t get drawn into “fixing’ them – this keeps you away from finding your REAL Soulmate, the one who can deep dive all the way with you as well as ascend the highest heights. There’s no reason to be angry or embittered, the failed Soulmate already realizes that their fear and poor self-knowledge are keeping them back. This is a journey that asks the most of every one of us.

    VALENTINE

    I sent myself
    In a letter
    Heart-creased
    Like a glove, like an
    Anecdote
    Too much told
    Dear stranger don’t
    Lose me I forgot
    The rule;
    Hold back a copy.

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    Mystery: “The Bridesmaid

    “Words Fail Us”

    Mysteries lure us in; we are born puzzle mavens. It takes experience to learn that not every Mystery has a solution; or that some solutions only redefine the mystery into even larger questions.

    Sometimes by the time the answer comes back we find that we ourselves have changed. The answer to “Who’s out there?” as could well be “Who’s asking?” as well as “Why ask?” Problems tend to be solvable only as far as we can define them. Framing the question frames the answer.

    We turn a corner philosophically when we learn to enjoy Mystery for its own sake and welcome its presence in our lives, salute its effort to instruct our limitations and listen to whatever message it can deliver. There is the majestic silence of the universe, the explosive power of a single cell, the eye that looks upon us from the forest. We are part of the Mystery. It can’t be processed, absorbed or put behind us; it can only be lived. The Mystery is Us.

    Our Soulmate can’t be “solved” any more than the tiger can cease his “burning bright” or the hound of heaven his pursuit. There will be things about our Soulmates that we never know, just as there are things about ourselves that we will never see.

    This realization is an important one for Love, Acceptance and Ecstatic Communion to take place. Realize that “solutions” and “explanations” are language and time-bound, but you and your Soulmate meet in a place beyond language and time.

    When you touch, you speak a deeper language, you meet in a timeless place that is eternal. Arguments and misunderstandings fade away – they are captured in Language and you, your Spirit and the ecstasy your union engenders are not trapped by words. You are free of promises, mistakes, even aspirations.

    You are two rivers blending, two clouds merging, exchanging psychic atoms of thought and feeling that alter the definition of Being. You are One, you are Two In One, you are Whole.

    The Bridesmaid


    Yes, I know everything.
    You’re my poor relation.
    I know of your daddy’s desk where you
    Fucked with formaldehyde fingers
    Heard you tell your sad
    Rosary of abortions,
    I know everything.
    We made love on your letters undisturbed
    As two icons. She’s imperfect
    He told me.
    Unseated by hierarchy
    We two take our place
    With the king’s crazy mistresses;
    Brewing menstrual blood coffee
    And mandrake root tea.
    Swim away, little bridesmaid,
    You’re too young
    I’m in love – we’ve got
    Too much in common ever to meet.

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking by Alysse Aallyn

    Persistence=COMMITMENT ‘Virginia Woolf”

    “refuse to surrender”

    Persistence is about not giving up. How could we accomplish anything without it? 99% of life is “just showing up” Woody Allen advises. “I didn’t fail,” said Edison, “I found ten thousand methods that didn’t work.” In other words, “trial and error” was a life style for him, a “modus vivendi.” He considered existence itself just one experiment after another. You can see that for somebody like that, “success” is, by definition, right around the corner. What a happy way to live!

    When passion flags, when courage fails, when even grit founders, there is only determination. We will keep going. Our Other Half, our Lost Self is calling us and there is no going back. If we gave up now we would be at a place of cosmic distrust. It can’t happen. We may groan. We may collapse. We must sleep, the better to summon dreams to our assistance.

    Sometimes we have to ask the uncomfortable questions: what am I missing? WHO am I missing? We summon up a distinctive song we want our Soulmate to hear, perhaps a song that ONLY our soulmate can hear. And we buckle up and keep on going.

    VIRGINIA WOOLF: The Membraned Sieve

    O bliss to be red admiral afeast
    Upon a rotten apple in the grass; she dreamed that guiltily
    Woke to Leonard bringing milk
    Nessa dancing bear-like on the lawn, woke
    To pain; cylindrical as seasons
    Burning white and burning blue like friends.
    The words fell fast, the blood fell faster;
    Split the membraned sieve.
    She raced the whitecaps out to sea
    Parting the waves with her mother’s hand.

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    Passion = COURAGE “Diaries”

    “What’s the bravest you’ve ever been?”

    Passion is the fuel by which we live. It can warm us, it can inflame us, it can destroy us. Without it life is dry and pointless. We are born with majestic passions that seem ungovernable.

    Our specific passions may seem strange to other people, but no one’s yet been born with none at all. The trick is managing them and making them work for us. A complication is that our passions change and evolve. Fantasies that kept us warm in childhood seem empty to us now. Sometimes in the busyness of life we find ourselves working so hard for other people’s goals our own seem to vanish and life becomes dry and tasteless.

    What do we really want? What makes us happy? What ignites our best self and completes our growth process?

    It isn’t too soon to imagine how our eulogy should read! Explorer? Poet? Dreamer? Lover? Person?

    Passion gives us courage. Courage is hard-won. Whenever it seems to come “naturally”, that’s because we didn’t assess the possible consequences of our actions. That’s not courage, that’s foolhardiness. When we understand the dangers and move forward anyway, that’s true courage.

    When we contemplate sharing our deepest self with another, what do we risk? We risk exposure, humiliation, misinterpretation, minimization, stigmatization. Those are serious risks, but the only way forward is through. Don’t pretend you don’t care or it doesn’t matter; hardening ourselves only devalues the very prize we seek as well as our ability to enjoy it and be transformed by it.

    To seek depth we must give depth. The secret is self-compassion, to accept our own humanity. Once we can do that we are given the key of seeing deeply into others. We are not interested in those pretending they are less than human – they can neither help us nor themselves. We resolve to keep going – courageously – in our search for The One.

    Diaries

    I don’t remember anything –
    Amnesiacs
    Write everything down
    Stuffed in my closet
    Among discarded gowns
    (Smelling just the same)
    Useless but
    Too beautiful to throw away. How
    I recollect & treasure
    The act of writing
    An up and over downtime scrawl
    Recall the surgeon
    Cutting at my flesh
    Tugging splitting sweating
    Recall liftoff – finally
    Airborne ; my
    Hawk’s-eye vision sees
    Backwards & forwards –
    Past into future.
    Too much dig is spoilage;
    Freedom mined is
    Priceless.

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    The Bridge = DISCIPLINE “Lovewings”

    “How to keep moving forward?”

    Sometimes we are stuck. Can we even envision the place where we would rather be? There is a yawning chasm between there and here. What we need is a Bridge but nothing is visible. Looks like we might have to build one, but what tools and materials do we have?

    Are there any similarities between where we are now and where we want to be? We want to approach from the closest possible point. Maybe the distance is illusory, maybe the place we plan to get to doesn’t exist at all. The Bridge, on the other hand is ours. We built it and we can own it. The Bridge itself may become the place where we want to be.

    Discipline is our resource. Discipline means doing something we’re committed to do even when we don’t want to do it. We’re forming new skin to become the person we want, need to be. It’s sore and tender at first. We’re charting a new path to finding our soulmate, but we lose confidence fast.

    The psychic rebellion starts early; right when we open one wakeful eye. Do I really have to get up? No one cares but me. I could make a new rule, a new plan…But we know the truth – this is just our devil messing with us. Trying to see how much it can get away with.

    The saving grace here is to fall in love with discipline. With path making as an art. Discipline is order. It’s building, like music. It’s the Beautiful Thing That Comes Next. If everything’s chaos then life is purposeless and nothing matters. Naturally we can change our plan – any time. Our real self always has the chance to make and change informed decisions. But is our Real Self, this niggling, seductive saboteur? No.

    We are on a journey to our real self, the self embodied by the Other (which is tantra) and the self we create together (Tantric Attachment.) We’re committed. And we’re excited! We’ll never get there if we sit by the side of the road in a bundle of sobbing bones and blubber. Here’s the kicker – it feels better the more you do it. You will come to the understanding that it’s all inside you. And you love it!

    LOVEWINGS

    My aunt’s a dancer
    She said “Feel my thighs
    Ain’t they hard
    They’re my love-wings
    Hard as heartwood
    I’m flying on ‘em half the time.
    Practice making perfect I’m
    Tightening up my style in case a valve
    On this here pressure cooker blows
    And splatters darkness like a
    Damsel in a murder case we might
    Solve someday.”
    She laughed and did an arabesque.
    My aunt is thirty-five. I said
    What beautiful thighs you’ve got

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    Youth = RESILIENCE: “A Bruise, A Cut, A Fever”

    Snap back!

    Youth is hungry long before dinner is ready. We recall youth as a rollercoaster of highs and lows, a mix of aspiration, beauty and joy keen as a knife’s edge. Let us never forget that sense of Spring when all things were possible and we were the linchpins holding up the universe.

    Youth’s sense of power is so disproportionate to reality it almost seems as if wisdom prohibits action rather than informing it. Like the smarter you are, the less you can accomplish! Youth rushes in places Wisdom fears to even think about. Yet the sense of possibility and the delight in discovery are so heady nothing balks Youth for long. It’s all over far too fast.

    We have discussed the fact that if you want a soulmate, you will have to kill dragons – both yours and theirs. There is trauma potential, to say the least. Every one of us have experienced trauma, many of us have forgotten it, most of us deny it. How we represent the scars of life to ourselves has everything to do with how we represent ourselves to others.

    Today’s meditation is about “snapping back,” not just “recovery” but Plan B. We may need a Plan C, D, and E. The fact that the dragon got the best of us on one or two occasions is no surprise. Remember learning to drive?

    We are really about learning to learn, learning what to fear and not to fear, learning how to react to constantly new sets of circumstances. We are resilient, we are flexible. We are cagey, we are wily.

    By the time we meet our soulmate we will have our own dragons under control, and we will have many stories to share about The Ways of Dragons.

    A BRUISE A CUT A FEVER

    Dragons exist.
    From my tree perch I watched them
    Uncaring of rules and bored by
    Their games, I wrote down
    Statistics
    In gold crested diaries.
    Fairy-tale beginnings
    Augur sour endings.
    Pole-axed by Europe.
    “This stuff matters frightfully”
    And I was affrighted.

    Culture-mad-Mother
    Forced us to look
    Then forced us to blink;
    Her timing was off.
    Dad sought his oceans
    In history, in pictures, in
    The madness of Nature;
    Encapsulates daughters in
    Unsinkable Fiberglas;
    That captain lied when he said
    We were all going home.

    Loathed masculine privilege
    I disliked you on sight
    Teased your editorials
    Insulted your proctoring
    Reviled, you prevailed.
    Kindling a clove-scented ecstasy;
    Inflaming my fevers at the same time as
    Quenching them.

    Sweeping West you
    Pulled the Atlantic behind you, smothering
    Both of us; I fought back with
    Monogrammed luggage.

    Swimming nude in your rapture we
    Posed for Swedish love manuals
    Under the falls.
    I thought I knew everything till
    I met your parents;
    Your father’s impressionist:
    Your mother convinced me
    That monsters can flourish.

    I dust you with my glitter as
    you peel my shock-pants;
    Our children wait impatiently
    To get their lives started.
    “Ask him to marry you Mommy!
    Ask him! Ask him!”

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    Mourning = DETACHMENT “Hide & Seek in the Museum of Modern Art”

    “Perfect is Enemy of Good”

    After a loss, Mourning is required. Don’t recoil. Mourning is a growth process which, because it hurts so much, feels like retrenchment. But in the Garden, pruning IS growth.

    Artists try to convince us that spaces – which may seem blank or even empty to us, are part of the design. But what is the design? It makes us hurt – it makes hearts and brains hurt – even to attempt understanding of all this emptiness. All this change.

    Physicists remind us matter transforms; it doesn’t “vanish.” As we contemplate the empty spaces with a sore heart and a buzzing brain, we will need peace and compassion to appreciate the majesty of the whole design.

    We expect sore muscles after exercise, but, oddly, we don’t expect a “sore heart” or “sore mind” as we struggle along our Soulmate path. Sometimes it’s a “sore spirit.” We’re not doing anything “wrong”; life is a rhythm. The “perfection” in our imagination is actually STASIS – the opposite of “life”. The nature of the Other is to break our immature expectations of Perfection with the Wildness of their Mystery.

    If we are to create a New World together, the old world has to go! For a long time – possibly our whole life – we will be honoring our Loss. We may search for ways to reframe it (sometimes it is a blessed release) sometimes it was the shedding of a constricted skin.

    Mourning means this is not an effortless adjustment. Even joining lives triggers a loss. It is scary and new, the loss of our proud loneliness. It can feel like sadness and there is sadness that our privacy will be invaded. There is terror: we will be exposed.

    Mourning is Detachment – you can see the Lost Past drifting away from you like a child’s balloon. It is not just “OK” to mourn, it is necessary and there is no substitute. The fact that you had a worthy self, a worthy past, a dignified life and were “fine on your own” is part of what makes you Beloved.

    Your Soulmate is feeling this too. This is another thing you can share, and there are all sorts of ways to honor it. Some Soulmates need at the beginning of a relationship to keep to their own schedule. You will always need your own room, or private and alone times for retreat. It is necessary to establish boundaries such as private journals, private phones, private work. We are developing trust, as well as changing at the same time.

    Honor those sore muscles of honest effort. Just as sore muscles will slowly improve, so will this sore heart/mind/spirit. We must rub it with the liniment of love, trust, sharing, hope and self-regard. We are brave, and no mistake! Remember the promise “those who mourn will be comforted.”

    HIDE & SEEK IN THE MUSEUM OF MODERN ART

    Life class;
    It’s my game but you started it.
    Here we are, lost
    This place resembles me, a
    Swollen storehouse where
    Nothing can be explained,
    Everything’s left
    Open to interpretation.

    Outside a single tree flowers in
    Smug delusion; all this whiteness
    Weights the soul. Mastery bites
    Like teeth on lip; my
    Throbbing inner elbow
    Where the blood lies gathered.
    Lies gathered.
    Let’s admit it. Take
    Responsibility

    For once, leave no work
    Unfinished. Anonymous
    Entries win no prize.
    Pan-flash –

    Recoil.
    Powder burn –
    Person
    Less

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – searching for a Soulmate with Alysse Aallyn

    Loss = SUFFERING “Two Lovers Contemplate the Seawrack”

    “Hostage to fortune”

    Something vital you have relied upon is simply gone. This Loss creates in us an almost hallucinatory state of core wrongness. The world must be rotten if such vibrancy can be destroyed. Einstein says matter cannot be erased, only transformed, so where has our Precious gone?

    Possibly it never had a physical manifestation; perhaps it was an illusion. Or do we identify the Beloved with it its physical presence so totally that even change or sickness or age will turn it into something different? We must think about the unseen world as well as our more familiar evolving world to understand Loss.

    Loss changes us; clearly, we will never be the same again. Loss is an opportunity to confront Reality; the Reality within our heads as well as in our hearts.

    The one thing that scares people so much about Soulmating is the prospect of loss. This is so frightening some of us would rather opt out of emotion altogether rather than even imagine experiencing the pain when Precious is lost.

    What is really happening here is that we are re-viewing memories of terrible past traumas and our Soul is thinking, “I can’t go through that again.” These are unresolved terrors; we need to resolve them. Our Soulmate – just the knowledge that Soulmating is possible – is one of the ways we can do this. You need the belief that the two of you can create an eternity where you will always be together.

    Yes, the prospect of loss deepens when you love, as does Love itself. It will give us a new heart, fresh eyes, stronger hands. Love teaches us that the Universe is our Soulmate – we were born for it as it is born for us. Love can never be erased – it can only enlarge us.

    TWO LOVERS CONTEMPLATE THE SEAWRACK

    He lost her
    Spoke too soon
    As men are wont
    Affinity flew overhead
    Danced with gulls
    A jazz-mad snowflake.
    His words
    Freighted by their inner logic
    Fell to earth and lay
    Prey to busy bristle-footed worms
    Who tidily dismantle
    Subject, verb & predicate;
    Sucked out the sense and left
    The elegiac bones to rot
    Amid kelp-wigged rock & glass-rope sponge
    Cheek by jowl with
    Long dead fishermen’s wives
    Punished now for ill-set dough and
    Worse-set hair
    Mouths agape in imitation of
    The badly sutured wounds of childbirth.
    Secrets told; corpses left to nourish
    Nature’s counting-house
    One season only; sharing space
    With shattered petrels
    Feathers spewed like pillow-stuffing
    Frenzied passade of love-struck boys –
    Strewn among the shavings of these once great ships
    Built by hearts & backs of men
    Who loved their daughters far too well
    Losing them to sailors
    Crueler than the great sea-god himself;
    He who stirs our sleep these nights
    With grief-crazed cries of loons
    Casting on the waters for their
    Far-flung children
    Lost forever now
    As we are lost as
    He lost her.

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Seeking a Soulmate with Alysse Aallyn

    Chrysalis = Potential

    “Hot Prowl”

    The Chrysalis looks dead; that is its disguise. A simple, broken leaf, soon to be swept away by wind or rain. But in fact, it’s a puzzle box that holds the whole universe inside itself; an unbroken chain of DNA, an augury of “becoming” dating from the dawn of Life itself. So is each of us a Chrysalis…of what? For what?

    We are powerhouses seeking ignition. We can feel the slow-gathering strength within, but we are still mysteries to ourselves. We need the Other to become a Full Being. Plato posited that man/woman are separated angels endlessly seeking their other half. Your duty is to protect the chrysalis so that it can unfold in its own good time. Be patient, your day of flight and connection comes ever closer.

    HOT PROWL

    Don’t wake up.
    Surveilled by night
    Your chiseled torso
    Slackened with exhaustion.
    Touching things that once
    You touched,
    Listening to your apnea;
    I turn away before you turn.
    Making peace with all my choices.
    It’s been worth everything –
    Winning in divorce a
    Hard-won superpower:
    Invisibility