Alysse Aallyn

Category: #Family

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    The Snake = ADDICTION “The Columbine”

    “Just when things are going so well -”

    Because we’re afraid of snakes, we attract the deadly columbine. We can’t recognize danger and we don’t know how to summon real assistance.

    In the language of flowers the Columbine means “Anxious Folly. Resolved to win.” Our folly prevents our winning.

    As for snakes, there are many of snakes we depend on in the garden. But every now and then a poisonous one wanders by. How do we tell the difference?


    How can we win when we poison ourselves? It’s to lessen that anxiety, to get back to what we assume is “baseline.” But it isn’t. We just haven’t found our baseline yet, and by mimicking the baseline of others we get farther and father from ourselves.

    This is why recovery from addiction involves finding ourselves. We can’t find a soulmate when we don’t know who we are.

    Our toy-box of pleasures is quite pathetic, but that’s not our fault. We are wired for addictions, with a biological view to turning such basic pursuits for food, mating and recreation subconscious so we can use the front of our mind to think about other things.

    You can tell addictions are destructive (and not all of them are!) if they crowd out human flourishing and ruin sharing and our ability to share. “I want to feel pleasure with you” becomes, “Let’s cycle through my tragic past of suffering before I found you.”

    Not good. To get out of this mess we cultivate the gift of change, of evolution. We will share and learn to tolerate discomfort. Hold tight. Often the addictions gained their grip over us because we were seeking to escape change or discomfort! The good news it, it’s never too late.

    The better news is, this re-discovery and re-creation of the self is one of the life-transforming experiences to share with a soulmate and if you have no soulmate yet, here’s a crucial step to getting yourself ready to present to the world as the Real, the Essential, the True You.

    Always look for help. Set up a program and a feedback system for accountability and efficiency and spiritual support for the inevitable withdrawal that’s coming. It’s only giving birth to your stronger, better, best self. You know it’s time.

    HAIKU: The Columbine

    Gambler’s inferno
    Dissolves will
    Slavery
    Wrecks pleasure-
    Luck? Loss?
    Choose.

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    The Pond = JUDGEMENT “Devourer of Hearts”

    “Does truth ever come out?”

    The Pond may reflect what it sees, but we know it has depths. There are things in there, moving around, looking back at us, possibly making calculations about us. The pond is deep enough so that we could swim – and never touch bottom.
    When we look into a mirror, is the mirror looking into us? We know the answer is always Yes as long as we have a Soulmate. We function as each other’s mirrors. World within world; bubble within a bubble; our vision alters. We learn from each other what Truth really is.

    Truth lies just beyond our vision, but luckily our Soulmate provides eyes in the back of our head. The Truth will out. The Pond waits quietly, knowing someday it will repossess. Hidden creatures study us as we study them. We remember what it is like to dip beneath it surface and gaze back at the blurry universe – blurry now – where some breathe air. Goldfish will nibble at our skin while spiders tangle in our hair. Someday we must acclimate to a different ethos. Appearing in your spread, The Pond means Judgment is coming. It can be good or it can be bad: it is up to us.

    Because that’s what we’re scared of, isn’t it? We know how we make judgments: Interestingly, in our everyday life it seems like “judgment” is constantly changing. There’s appeals, and reconsiderations and every now and then some “delivered and done” decision is disinterred and we all publicly agree: “That was wrong.”

    So, like a lot of “finite” things, “judgment” is a “concept”, just like the theory that if you keep dividing a distance in half you’ll never reach zero. We’re afraid of “bad” judgments, that’s the truth; because we judge ourselves harshly: “Why can’t you do anything right?”

    And we are cognizant of a Group of Others – lets call them by their true name – bullies – who are actively seeking tender vulnerabilities they can exploit. Once they realize what a mess we are won’t that be the Final Judgment we can never recover from?

    We are a fearful species. And a lot of our fears, it turns out, are hardwired. Behavioral experts pointed out a hundred years ago that children are automatically afraid of things like snakes and cliffs but not speed or electric light sockets. Fear isn’t rational.

    And since we are a social species it only makes sense that at least some of our fears would be “social” in nature. But here’s the rub: defensiveness ramps up anxiety and most – if not all – of obsessive behavior is engineered to distract us from anxiety! We’re pigeons pecking at ourselves! So we’re not doing ourselves any favors by getting hysterical about “what other people think.” Better work on maintaining our calm and maintaining our wellness program. Remember, soulmates can save each other.

    Haiku: Devourer of Hearts

    Scaling hearts
    For final judgment:
    Soured hearts
    Desiccate;
    Tantric hearts
    Burgeon

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    The Poppy = SUCCESS “The Lovers”
    “Successful in your eyes”

    The Poppy signifies oblivion and eternal sleep in the Language of Flowers. This source of heroin and morphine will definitely obliterate your personality, despite protecting you from pain. Does that sound like success to you?

    The greatest pleasure of Soulmates is creating a world all our own, with its own rules and reality. If our Soul Unit is a success, we are a Success. The harsh judgments of the outside world, operating as it does casino-like with few winners and a vast “majority” of losers, fade in impact.

    All that is required for joy is that we must be a success to each other, and we must be a success together. This mandates constant soul-searching as we step through life’s landmines, both singly and alone. There is no more restful peace than ultimate confidence that someone’s got your back.

    Haiku: The Lovers

    Falling upwards
    Into you
    My other wing, my second
    Clapping hand

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    The Tree = ENLIGHTENMENT “My Beautiful Twin Sister”

    “You can if you think you can”

    Trees knit a garden together. Thy hover over us the way we remember helpful adults from childhood. They are the elders of our loving garden family.

    To be “awakened” is to experience life as it really is. Lots of people are repelled by this notion. Why bother to wake up when the news is so bad? Remain in the happy dream state brought to you by the Sackler family or some other pharmaceutical conglomerate, or by your favorite source of baseless propaganda.

    That lasts as long as you can afford their product. As every rube discovers, Happy Dreamland’s price keeps getting steeper until one day, you can’t pay it at all. Then you are awake and desperately uncomfortable, whether you like it or not, and the life around you has gone to shit. And not the helpful, fertilizing kind.

    A common approach to Soulmate-seeking is to try to find someone to join you in Dreamland, or to aggressively shop for a Dreamland you want to join. What these people don’t know is that Soulmates create their own world together; and this is a process that can’t be rushed. Seeing yourself and life as it really is begins by being very uncomfortable, but enlightenment comes eventually, and it promises real peace.

    The first improvement is to stop complaining about other people and all the things you can’t fix. Look at and into each other. And then it hits you – that simple thing we always “knew” because we’ve been told over and over: Love is the answer. (“Why Live?” is the question.) Take a walk… together. Look at the stars…together.

    Stroll through an art gallery…together. Every joy is multiplied and magnified and now the question is, Aren’t we lucky? Well, aren’t you? And the gratitude for the chance to live for even a moment in this spectacular universe comes pouring out.

    MY BEAUTIFUL TWIN SISTER

    Twenty months
    Made you the boss
    But my twin just the same
    I gazed adoringly
    Into your dark power.
    You braved everything
    Always being first;
    Parting airspace with your muscle
    To improve my flight – you
    Schooled boyfriends
    Husbands, children
    Teachers
    Bent whole administrations to your will.
    For my benefit you
    Deconstructed history,
    Logic, told me
    Who to read and what to think;
    Volunteering for a better world.
    Protester, Marcher, you
    Learned Amslan
    Just to empathize;
    Conquered mountains
    Just for fun;
    Shifting derailleurs, snowshoeing
    Surefooted through so many
    Frosty seasons. Inside
    You were just like me;
    Scared, hesitant, fragile
    Pushing yourself out there;
    A revelation of
    Impossible courage
    Giving me a lifelong template
    To admire.

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    The tulip = ILLUSION “Gothic Novel”

    “Seeing what isn’t there”

    Illusions are VERY attractive. We WANT them to be true. In my childhood Superman leapt tall buildings in a single bound – all us kids could recognize the fun, the power, the joy in that.

    Limitations are unpleasant. We can work to expand them, or…we can dream. Every culture warns the dreamer against getting lost in fantasy. The Tulip is a historic emblem of delusion – impoverishing generations of otherwise intelligent Dutch merchants in a fruitless gamble. Now the Tulip warns that you may be counting on something – or someone – that is false.

    Our society has been fueled by misinformation ever since Edward Bernays, founder of modern advertising, wrote his book Propaganda in the 1920’s. Since then legal beagles have defended the right to “puffery” and “spin”, even to saying something manifestly untrue; “miracle pills!”

    Advertisers are very honest about manipulating us through wish and fear. We are eager to buy the illusions that seem to promise a warm social life, a happy home or radiating beauty. Lately misinformation has taken a distinctly evil turn as billionaires base their fortunes on convincing us that pollution isn’t dangerous, the climate is fine, science is untrustworthy, the election was stolen and oligarchic rule is what we really want.

    The question to consider is, what is our benefit in believing and propagating obviously harmful facts? The rifle-toting man who broke into a Washington DC pizza parlor thought he was a heroic savior of children. He’s now serving a prison term.

    Why is violence such an attractive answer? Forget stockpiling bear mace and bullets to abuse your fellow citizens. We need some other way to soothe our raggedy self-esteem apart from clinging to grifters and liars.

    On the other side of illusion lies reality. We need to take a look at it, savor it. Often it’s a kid tugging at our clothes begging us to stay, focus, share; not lose ourselves in a fantasy world.

    The need for illusion prevents us from finding, seeing and keeping a Soulmate. We must work to make reality less terrible, so that we don’t become dependent on illusion as a pleasure source. Illusion rushes in when life seems meaningless. Joining groups of honest seekers directing their paths with love can save us. When we are surrounded by love we will attract love. Check the philosophy of the group you hang out with. Is it “Let’s you and him fight?” or “Let’s seek joy for all.”

    GOTHIC NOVEL

    A woman alone is open – gaping,
    Button hole without a button hook.
    She carries her muff held stiffly
    Out before her like an offering
    Flic, flic! The eyes of strangers
    Slit the pause like razors.
    This railway carriage stinks of creosote, wet fur.
    “I prefer the window up, thank you”
    “I prefer it down”.
    She lights a Sobranie to remind her
    Of Devon in the haying; the gentlemen
    Lean forward, reading the initials
    On her morocco case.

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    Foxglove = MEDICINE “Alyssum”

    “Intervention”

    We find ourselves now in an endless pandemic, a New Normal caused by our aggressive human interference with our planet’s wildlife. By a miracle the same pharmaceutical companies that have been competitively bleeding all of us dry have come up with a vaccine that seems effective at keeping most of us out of the hospital. Wouldn’t want to kill the golden geese!

    But it doesn’t work if you don’t take it and, wonder of wonders, a substantial number of Americans have become suspicious of the medical establishment! Since insurance companies have been advertising for years that healthcare is “our choice” based on “what plan we can afford” I for one am not surprised.

    This is the only possible end result of a gated health care system that actively despises “Public” health as “radical socialism”!

    So where is our Soul & our Soulmate in all this, our little, fragile, mortal, human body that drew the “medical intervention” card only this morning? “Medical intervention” is represented in the Tantric Garden by the humble foxglove.

    Foxgloves contain digitalis, the building block of cardiology care. Where do we stand on intervention? We may create a “perfect world” with our Soulmate but does that mean we can let no one in? A moment’s thought convinces that we must keep the freshening breezes of this world blowing as long as we are in this world! “Help” will always be needed and hopefully, offered.

    Can we learn to trust the Helpful Intervener? We don’t want to create a love nest so fragile it is threatened by any outsider. Instead, we want to make certain we avail ourselves of every good advancement and improvement opportunity in our oh so imperfect world.

    ALYSSUM

    What wound is this?
    Flowering? Flowering?
    I wake at two am
    Immobilized –
    A curvilinear clamp
    Half hoop clenching
    My right side.
    .

    It could be the strain of
    Fishing for a future
    Hooking sky through a
    Porthole window or
    I could be over-organized. The
    Doctors dismissed me in
    My mother’s name.
    “You dare to be angry?
    You dare to grow old?
    You are a false alarm.”

    I say a prayer to the great night heron, that
    Pregnant thief of dreams –
    Solitary hunter calling to collect me.
    Dream he rises
    To unleash the silken sinews
    Of submission from my torn and
    Tethered wing –
    Feathered like a revelation
    Stippled like the phases of the moon
    Birthing spirit, coming
    Coming, coming
    In his cloud of fire.

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    Clinging vine = DEPENDENCY “Old Masters”

    “Shock”

    A Clinging Vine can’t support itself. We ruthlessly exclude weeds from our garden, but if a vine flowers prettily enough there is a danger that we may tend to let it run until it has squeezed itself around our hearts.

    There is certainly a place in a Garden for a Clinging Vine, but we must think in terms of the supports first, the antique arbor, the sweetly unpainted shed, even, as V. Sackville-West liked to do, sending climbing roses up the trunks of apple trees to provide a profusion of springtime blossoms. Is our Vine beautifying our Garden, or subtly dragging everything ground-wards?

    Everyone, everywhere, is in “unequal” relationships. But the powerful try very hard to pretend they aren’t. Why is it so humiliating to admit that we depend on other people? Rich people and aristocrats of every stripe have voluminous social codes designed exclusively to deny the fact that they require support; in most practical ways they are as helpless as an infant. History often appears to suggest that it’s more admirable to act like a monster than to admit inadequacy.

    Interdependence is the acknowledged goal, but some gifts are rarer than others, certainly they’re more highly prized, which may give some partners an inflated view of their own ”value.”

    But market negotiations, like shallowness and lack of commitment, spell death to the romantic Tantric bond. To maintain vibrancy, to power the circuits of passion, a vigorous self must flourish. The give-and-take of our differing power sources versus our dependency needs will fuel a super-relationship. What blocks this ideal state?

    Youth is the time we experiment with being all things to all people while we fantasize about getting our “requirements” met as effortlessly – read “unconsciously” – as possible. That way we will never have to confront them, test them or question them.

    Maturity usually forces us to face the facts we have been dodging. We may begin our Soulmate dance with the hope of total sharing and equity, but we will wake up one morning and confront life’s truth; this relationship is not equal and never can be. As we gradually accept that we each have separate gifts and interests (I am never going to want to clean the garage) this growing understanding could evolve into fear, even paranoia – as we tell the world – and most importantly, convince ourselves – we can no longer ‘survive” without this person.

    In true Soulmate connection, the mirror image of this fear evolves on the other side. This scary dynamic can lead to a Dark Night of the Soul where partners will be tempted to proclaim “freedom” with public displays (bickering) or covert offensives (cheating financially, sexually, emotionally.)

    This never works – only destruction lies that way, but some of us whose bones tremble with memories of youthful abandonment conclude that “scorched earth” is preferable to publicly admitting another has invaded our very soul. This Dark Night must be lived through; in the fire, you will become the flame.

    The “save” always lies in honestly reaching out to each other and fully confessing to The Terror. Believe me, if you’re feeling it, they’re feeling it too. On the other side of this dread you will truly become One.


    Old Masters

    With age lubricity
    Darkens into sweat;
    We face each other
    Across the cooling dinner,
    Night by night
    Stiff as andirons
    Masterpieces best seen by candlelight
    To hide the cracks,
    Well-meant improvements by
    Another’s hand.
    A well-matched pair.
    Gardens edged perennially with stone
    Are called unkillable;
    One fountain singing
    This tune only. What oracle?
    It didn’t look this way
    Going forward
    Backward is a different view.

    I think I caught this from my mother,
    She played the crone in Wuthering Heights;
    Who preaches doom
    In guise of cheer. All
    I request is light enough
    To read my tarot; instead I’m fated
    Recycling tea brewed
    From murky bathwater.
    These leaves are dark and do not speak.
    I shiver with cold and you
    With anger; a well-matched pair, a
    Brace of disappointments.
    There’s still too much
    We can’t admit.

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    Hummingbird = THE SOUL “The Hummingbird”

    “Is Love Eternal?”

    “Hope is the thing with feathers.”
    -Emily Dickinson

    Hummingbirds are impossible. They can fly backwards, forwards and upside down. They can move their wings in a figure 8. The blinding whir of fast-moving iridescent feathers creates the “hum” that gave them their name. Hummingbirds have fast metabolisms and must lick nourishment all day long.

    Hummingbirds are carnivores, and they migrate long distances. Their feet are used for perching only, not for hopping or walking. They are strongly territorial and have been known to chase hawks away. They don’t expect a medal for it either. I’m guessing a hawk would be seriously unsettled by this dive-bombing ruby and have the sense to leave. If hummingbirds can do all this, what’s our excuse? As I say, hummingbirds are impossible.

    Love is an energy and as such is subject to many of the laws of energy. It can be wasted, it can be vitiated, it can run down. But when Love meets its Soulmate the two loves join together to become a Force that invigorates the Soul, that
    essence of our personhood that is immortal. Each of us is a single wing, and working together to lift each other up we are likelier to soar.

    Some theories of reincarnation suggest that we don’t so much remember past lives as “recognize” aspects of ourselves in history. Psychologists call that recognition more a process of identification and learning. I propose another idea; which is that souls recognize each other. This is what lies behind those magic moments we “suddenly” share with others, where we “understand” without knowing how we got there. It feels instinctual that a connection has been formed.

    We need to live as if the present moment is eternal because that is the true path to immortality. That means dialing up the love and pushing away the fear, along with the mad scramble towards the future.

    What if we were enough and we have always been enough? Your soul has been waiting to speak to you. What might it say? What does your partner’s soul say? What do your souls say together?

    HAIKU: The Hummingbird

    don’t you dare
    underestimate me
    am I small or are you
    oversized?

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    Firefly = FALSE LOVE “Bed & Breakfast”

    “Liars”

    The Firefly lights our dark with his luciferous magic. In some species it’s only the male, but in others both genders use this cool heat to signal to each other and we are all beneficiaries of their romantic opera.

    And it’s a complete drama with every plot twist you can think of; some fireflies impersonate desire only to attract and then kill the hopeful lover. Other fireflies deliberately use a poor impersonation to warn away competing lovers and decimate the field.

    If attacked, fireflies use “reflex bleeding” to literally poison predators with their blood. This last fact generates warnings never to feed fireflies to your hungry pet reptile! What are we to make of this mix of beauty, falsity and carnivorous intent? Fireflies may be beautiful impostors, but they are never to be envied. They exist only to mate, lay eggs and die. Some fireflies live lives without nourishment. They never even get the chance to dine.

    We are all attracted by fantasy. We each have or think we have – a list of “musts” and “deal-breakers.” Danger waits when we meet someone who actually matches all our specifications! Probably they are lying. Maybe you are, too. Possibly you didn’t even realize it until this moment.

    Maybe you want one thing on the page and another In Real Life. Maybe you want one thing in the dark and another in the light. Maybe you don’t know yourself very well! Lust hardens, love softens; how solve that essential inner/outer conflict? We need to melt – together – into a glorious plasticity that allows us to undertake the “experiment” of entering the life, desires, viewpoint of another.

    But this is only “safe” when goodwill and honorable attentions are present. If someone’s looking for a hostage, a slave, a mimic or even worse – prey – they will falsely claim anything to entice us. How can we tell the difference?

    Sometimes their presentation is TOO “good”. A “pediatric oncologist” who “volunteers at an animal shelter?” Really? Is the attraction a “problem-free” relationship without any of that scary sandpaper of conflict that molds our rough edges to fit together more harmoniously? Or is this attraction just “high-status” and “bragging rights”?

    As your grandmother warned, any salesman trying to hustle you into an instant decision is up to no good. Predators try to convince the young that by taking time to choose and trust we are ruining the experience! Don’t buy it! You’re getting smarter, and stronger by the minute! You’re within your rights –you owe it to yourself – to demand that deeds match words, and that intentions line up with performance.

    Allow yourself time to discover, evolve and revel. Live!

    BED & BREAKFAST

    “That wing of course is closed”
    said Magda whose venomous green eyeshadow
    matched her voice;
    “I’d have that lanced if I were you”
    thinks Reni
    Who never says exactly what she thinks.
    “Wrong word:  wing”
    Thinks Andreas
    “to use about a house tethered toad-like to the lawn”.
    But Andreas never says what he thinks either.
    It’s too late now.
    At dinner, they quarrel about Ezra Pound;
    Pretending to agree.
    Squeaky bedsprings bastardize this sad romance;
    Hopeless beds mandate sex is standing up.
    ( This butler may be deaf and dumb,
    But knew the best way out:
    He was in for the tip of a lifetime.)
    At breakfast the debate about Plath
    Turns violent; the biggest danger
    Of murdering yourself with a kitchen appliance is:
    They’re everywhere.
    Refreshing holiday, says Reni.
    We should do it more often says Andreas.
    Truth never spoken once.
    Mission accomplished.

  • Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

    FATE “Evolution”

    “Control”

    Outside the carefully groomed garden lies the true Wilderness; the ungroomed terrain. At first the eye is confused by the plethora of wildflowers, the riot of wild grasses, the proliferation of low shrubs. The fallen and the dying have not even been tidied away.

    Slowly our senses adjust to pick out hovering butterflies, nesting birds and evidence of even wilder visitors such as rabbits, skunks, weasels and raccoons. This is their world; they prefer it to ours.

    We must admit they have a point: how can something so haphazard radiate such magnetic beauty? Sometimes we’re forced to judge their world the winner; it is definitely more intricate, majestic and evocative than our carefully raked paths. We study it to comprehend, learn, possibly mimic its effects. And as we absorb their ethos we become one of them, lowly commoners of earth, enjoying a bounty of goodness, even wealth, poured out without regard to our intent or purchasing power.

    Destiny warns; “It’s not about you.” “Fundamental attribution error” in the social sciences means confusing individual causation as determinative when mass social movements are actually predeterminative. We would like to believe that we have control over keeping our parents together, preventing war, stopping climate change, averting pandemics, getting promotions, guaranteeing the constant love of worthy Soulmates. How much control do we really have over those things?

    We are tiny creatures – out of many – finding ourselves momentarily in a tiny corner of an ever-changing wilderness. This is not our “fault”, but still, we must live our lives as best we can. Can we guarantee our future good health? No, but we can improve it. Can we guarantee our Soulmate’s future health? No, but once again, we can lead a joint healthy life, together.

    Can we avoid sorrow? Most likely not; sorrow is endemic to those who think and feel. It’s how we manage sorrow that counts. The Dalai Lama says pain is unavoidable, but suffering is voluntary.

    We are creatures of wish & fear. The wish is that we will stay alert for dangerous and destructive incidents and behaviors. Our fear is that Fate is out to get us. And in a way, it is. Age stalks us. History stalks us. But if anxiety about the future only ruins the enjoyment of today, it is not doing its job, it is sabotaging you.

    With a Soulmate, you possess two souls, two futures plus a joint Soul and joint future. This gives us not just a reason but a mandate to celebrate the ecstasy, the bliss of every moment. You are Mine and I am Yours.

    EVOLUTION
    The world that seems to us so still
    And echoes no reflection of our will
    Somehow produced the seed that in us all
    Resurrected us from worm to fish, to crawl
    Upon the earth, to stand and then
    Return a child to creep and crawl again
    In some unending pattern, sane or not
    Judging by the brain that this same seed begot
    And yet within our every cell lies curled
    A revolutionary flag to be unfurled
    To lead us on to who knows what potential end
    Beyond the reach of enemy or friend?
    Can it be that simple balls of spinning glass
    Possessed the strength to lift from this morass
    All that we are; though we don’t understand
    This torch we pass so tenderly from hand to hand?