Alysse Aallyn

Category: #Transformation

  • Haiku by Alysse Aallyn

    Haiku: Relief

    Generous souls

    Confront fear’s energy

    Calmly.

    World‘s pain

    Blocked,

    Transformed.

  • Haiku by Alysse Aallyn

    #Haiku: Reincarnation

    Are souls

    Transferable? Is

    Flesh loaned –

    Hungry spirits

    Questing for home?

  • The Missing Bride – a mystery by Alysse Aallyn

    Chapter 20 – The End

    We flew to a hotel at LaGuardia,

    Called Derek, whose father suggested

    Vince Tromwell.  He got 

    Mirabel immunity as long as she told

    “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth”

    and after they tested the shirt and the knife

    Verne even confessed –

    If you call taking an Alford plea –

    (Which legally means “You got me”) –

    Confession. Verne got forty years

    On each count with deportation

    Instead of parole. 

    Mom and Dad didn’t mind

    Having a yoga teacher in the family –

    They both started yoga –

    I admit I did too –

    That’s what big sisters are for;

    They go through everything first

    So you don’t have to.

    We get to be writers, we

    The little sisters

    Poets and thinkers of all the peaceful

    Afternoons; assessing, not

    Regressing, savoring even

    The upside down moments

    Right side up and 

    Passing them to history.

    It worked on everyone but Mr.

    Mowgley, English teacher,

    Who said;

    “Shouldn’t you write this

    In the third person voice

    To gain some distance?”

    I said, “Never.

    I’m Richenda Marshott, only me and

    I’ll never pretend to be

    Anyone else.”

  • The Missing Bride – a mystery by Alysse Aallyn

     “Mirabel, you must let me 

    Tell Mom and Dad. They don’t

    Deserve this silence.”

    She turned mulish. Resistant.

    More stubborn than I’d ever be.

    “Mirabel is dead. It’s better for everyone.”

    “Mom & Dad won’t miss me. I was

    Nothing but trouble.”

    I spoke truth when I said;

    “I guarantee you that’s not true.

    They will never get over you.

    And in the meantime, Lord Verne gets away

    With murder. He’ll just kill

    Someone else, Mirabel;

    Don’t you get it? Violence is

    His foolproof way

    To get what he wants.”

    Mirabel moved her shoulders restlessly.

    She’d almost escaped that life and saw me

    Pulling her back.

    “I can’t go to jail. I’d rather die.”

    “People who make immunity

    Deals don’t go to jail. Derek’s family

    Must know a lawyer who’d negotiate

    For you. You stay anonymous

    Because deals never go to court.”

    She eyed me suspiciously.

    “What do YOU know about 

    Bargaining with prosecutors?”

    “I have a Netflix subscription!

    I watch the ID channel! If you tell them

    What you know it might be enough

    To convict him.

    Get him out of all our lives

    Forever.” Fingers crossed.

    She struggled to believe me.

    She had so little trust.

    Yet I was the one

    She’d invited inside.

    “I have the murder weapon,” she admitted.

    “I told him I got rid of it. And

    The shirt he wore – it’s bloody.

    In a safety deposit box.”

    A thrill ran through me.

    I hadn’t expected

    Such cagey planning, but

    I should have; from

    The Girl Who Got Away.

    “That’s probably enough,” I promised.

    But still my sister hesitated,

    Torn between embracing her 

    Imaginary life with its

    Brand new identity and

    Facing her destroyer.

    I played my final card.

     “You owe me,” I whispered.

    “You owe the dead girls.

    And so Mirabel – not Franny but

    The grown up girl who’d always been

    My sister; made up her mind.

    She accepted herself; the way

    I had always accepted her.

  • The Missing Bride – a mystery by Alysse Aallyn

    I had to ask

    The ultimate question.

    “Did he kill the real Franny?”

    Were we a survivor chain of

    The lot, the disconnected, the

    Threatened?

    Her eyes slid back and forth

    As she repeated her question;

    “Did anyone follow you?”

    I wasn’t aware of anyone

    But in our day and age

    Of advanced surveillance

    Was it possible to reassure?

    “No. No hiding stalkers

    On your tiny island.”

    It worked.

    For the first time she relaxed

    And smiled. But still she

    Whispered as if we could be

    Overheard.

    “I’m sorry for putting you 

    In that position but I knew

    You wouldn’t let him hurt you.

    You were always different

    Born yourself –

    I’m not myself yet but

    I’m trying to be.”

    She began to swing us

    Her thin legs in white gauze reached out

    Pumping us higher.

    “You didn’t answer my question”

    I insisted, “The real Franny

    Is dead. Who killed her?”

     “Verne killed them,” she confided.

    As our swing vaulted heavenwards.

    “My friends were

    “Hiding me from Verne but

    “I still had to work. He stalked me – he

    Broke in – stabbed Franny and Jane.”

    “But missed you?” I prompted. ”Because

    You were in the broom closet?”

    “No,” she said, “He found me

    Covered me with their blood – said

    I was the cause of

    Everything, I was the one who

     Made  it happen.

    He threatened to kill me too

    But slowly. I knew he planned

    To torture me to death.

     I could never get away.”

    “Why not tell the police?”

    Her eyes were so big, pale blue shading

    Into gray – same color as the ocean.

    “They’d lock me up –

    He knows too much about me.

    I tried everything I could think

    To get away but nothing worked

    Till this.” She held my hand

    Me – feeling like the 

    Older sister.

    “Remember the fable I used to

    Read to you – the dog that dropped the bone

    Because he saw a second one?

    That’s my gambit –

    I felt sure that you would recognize.”

    She held my wrists enlaced in

     Skinny fingers.

    “Verne was always telling me

    I was ruined, that I’d spoiled myself

    And destroyed our future.

      I convinced him you were me

    Unscarred – the way I was

    Before he met me –

    Better than I ever was – me without

    The things he hated.”

     I recoiled, disgusted, trying not

    To show it. That bastard! Hating

    Her feeble resistance.

    She smiled the old one-sided smile.

    “I was right too. You were too smart

    To fall for him. 

    “You were born so confident! 

    So good in school! Your brain

    Seemed always working right –

    Reading my schoolbooks

    Helping ME to do my homework!”

    It was funny, listening

    To this different recollection

    Of our years together, so distinct

    From my modest memories. 

    At the very moment I was

    Iconizing her, she was

    Idealizing me.

    The swing slowed. My sister

    Looked away – that far off glance

    That was the skill she’d mastered –

    Disassociation –

    Floating above the rest of us –

    In her inner world of safety.

    I heard my voice –

    “But I’m so plain.”

    “You’re wrong about that, –

    More beautiful than I ever was –

    I think I’ve learned what real beauty is –

    It’s wildness – untamed – and

    Those who want to capture it

    Are killing their desire.”

    My sister, the guru 

    Clutched at me again – fearful

    She could lose me as I’d lost

    Her. She knew the world

    Was full of melting women

    Simulacra who seem

    To be but aren’t –

    Shadow people enlisted

    Replacing those who

    Never came to be.

    I recoiled in horror at 

    The degradation

    So closely missed.

    “And then you found me,”

    She breathed, scaring me

    With confidence in my miracles. 

    “This island’s pictures

    Were the only ones I ever sent 

    To you; I thought 

    That you’d remember.”

    “I almost didn’t! 

    Answer one for me. Did you steal

    Diamonds from Kruptupian?”

    “His broker was cheating him.

    When I gave him the evidence, 

    He sold my ring

    Giving me the cash to get away

    Without informing.

    I’ve been taking yoga teacher training.

    I’m going to give Franny Vallea the 

    Flourishing life she

    Din’t have, without

     Family, without chances.

    All she ever wanted was enough money

    To be safe, to have peace, quiet

    And a lock on the door.”

     “Mirabel, you must let me 

    Tell Mom and Dad. They don’t

    Deserve this silence.”

    She turned mulish. Resistant.

    More stubborn than I’d ever be.

    “Mirabel is dead. It’s better for everyone.”

  • The Missing Bride – a mystery by Alysse Aallyn

    Quite a trudge – hundreds of steps –

    And I was alone. Maybe these

    Holiday-makers were all just too old.

    But with every step

    I felt increasing peace –

    Then came a sign:

    “SSSSHHH! MEDITATION IN SESSION!”

    Tamed my labored breathing –

    Climbed the last few steps

    Silently. One teacher – a very old man –

    In perfect lotus position –

    Eyes closed –

    Orchestrated six students – 

    Their backs to me –

    All wearing white.

    Like a cult?

    I studied them thoughtfully.

    No hair like Mirabel’s –

    A couple of blondes and one boy  –

    Very close-cropped, maybe chemo?

    My gaze increasingly

    Fixed on him;  felt

    I must be hallucinating.

    Weren’t those Mirabel’s ears?

    The hair just coming in

    Was silvery – the tiny ear studs –

    Silver, not diamonds.

    I inched my way around – one student

    Opened her eyes – gave me

    The harsh look my inquisitiveness

    Warranted. But I persisted – the skinny

    Silent student lost in meditation

    Was my sister!  No other jewelry, no makeup, 

    Just cheap gauze clothing, dirty bony bare feet

    And that scarred lip.

    Looks like the joke was on Mirabel –

    Bald, at her thinnest – that

    Magnified her true self so

    Hugely no one –

    No one who loved her –

    Could ever mistake her.

    Tears sprang to my eyes. I closed them and

    Backed against the stone white-washed wall

    Trying to mentally connect with her.

    What was she thinking

    Right at this minute?

    Maybe nothing.

    I’d meditated – a couple of times and

    Found it annoying. I like my own brain

    And don’t want to escape it.

    I launched an experiment – she forced me

    To come all this way to find her –

    Now I will make her

    Feel my presence. That project quenched 

    My tears as anger always does;

    Focused everything I had

     On her. She was strong;

    I’ll say that for her

    It took a long time to reach her:

    Deep in her dream place –

    Mouth slightly open – 

    One tiny tear sliding down from her eye.

    That’s when I touched her!  I could feel it. 

    She stirred.

    Eyes opened. My sister Mirabel took a

    Long, long look into me.

    Chapter 19 – Killer Signature

    “Mirabel?”

    I mouthed her name. She ducked her head,

    Bowed deeply forward, then rose

    To her feet. A ripple ran through

    The group and the leader opened one eye

    In displeasure.

    My sister grabbed my arm

    And began dragging me downstairs.

    “My name here is Franny.” 

    She whispered.

    Franny? That name set up echoes.

    Had she stolen a murder victim’s

    Identity?

    I refused to unleash her;

    Knew she was meditating for a

    Superpower of

    Invisibility;

    Miraging at will.

    At the base of the lighthouse steps 

    We burst out; 

    Into the strong sunlight.

     “I thought you were dead,”

    I gasped. “You left me with HIM!”

    She pulled me into a swing

    Beneath a shady awning

    Two sisters swinging

    Side by side –

    Both of them crying.

     “I’m so glad you found me,”

    She said, “Did they follow you?”

     “How could you leave me

    With HIM,” I raged at her.

     “I knew you could handle him,”

    She insisted with equal ferocity,

    “You’d never fall

    For any of his tricks.

    And wasn’t I right?

    Look, here you are.”

  • The Missing Bride – a mystery by Alysse Aallyn

    Chapter 18 – Dream Island

    Isla Ensueno is a resort –

    Luckily Derek’s air miles included the

    Pink stucco hotel.

    “No one by that name,” the desk clerk told me so 

    Patiently. What kind of avatar name would 

    Mirabel choose?  He wouldn’t stand for

    Guessing so I tried describing her –

    But the clerk shook his head.

    Well, I couldn’t leave until tomorrow

    Might as well check in and prowl.

    It’s a very small island.

    My thoughts were uncomfortable –

    That oh-so familiar feeling –

    Dinned into me by every adult I’ve ever met

    That I’m probably doing

     Everything wrong.

    My “great idea” seemed feeble now

    Typical teen impulsiveness.

    This wasn’t far enough away – Florida!

    How could Mirabel feel safe here?

    Smart money said she’d flee

    Ocean-wards – the Maldives or Malta or 

    Some such place – with a whole new

    Passport and some new man in tow

    Whose identity she could hide behind.

    That’s if she wanted to create

    A new persona. But what if –

    This is what I gambled on –

    She wanted instead to uncover 

    The old persona – the person

    Who had always been there?

    It was the only explanation

    For involving me –

    Other than simply feeding me

    To her monster.

    I had one single chance –

    And possibly I’d blown it.

    Dream Island was authentically gorgeous –

     Mirabel hadn’t lied 

     But in the eight years since

    Her photo shoot hadn’t its splendor 

    Diminished, wasn’t it becoming

    Just the tiniest bit shabby? 

    Some people – myself for example

    Like things whose edge has been

    Taken off.  As I circumnavigated 

    The island’s walking trail 

    A certain peace overtook me

    That could have been

    Maturity.

    Was this what it felt like

    Having nothing left to prove?

    If you can enjoy the moment –

    Filling yourself with it and

    It with yourself –

    Then you’ve arrived.

    Questions bubbled. 

    What do you do

    When your game has gone horribly wrong?

    You start over.

    Even if my guess was off

    There was still that intriguing 

    Probability: what if Mirabel evolved

    Until her only desire was having a self

    Worthy of presentation to the magnificent

    Universe this island represented?

    Even at fourteen I understood nostalgia –

    Viewing the confident know-it-all 

    My eleven-year-old incarnation 

    With the purest envy.

    What if Mirabel re-set the game – 

    Made different choices

    Stopped pleasing others by

    Contorting her body into

    Simulacra and challenged the world

    To accept her real being?

    The younger self I knew – hopeful – 

    Gorgeous – naïve, impatient –

    Wasn’t in the Maldives!

    As I walked I systematically

    Searched every nook;

    Old trees shading the privacy of

    Lovers: I broke into – peering under

    Awnings, stared right through

    Sunglasses: but Mirabel 

    Wasn’t there.

    The trail wound around a sand beach cove 

    And right up to the lighthouse; 

    I was unprepared; requiring

     Binoculars, sunscreen and a

    Really big hat;

    Sea breezes made me shiver

    In just cami and jeans – 

    Something put me 

    In the mood to climb the lighthouse.

  • Purrsiflage – Daily Cat Zen with Alysse Aallyn

    Feb 26

    The Multiverse is Blossoming – You are awakened to the magical possibilities that surround you. Can you dream of eternal bliss? Are you floating in connectedness? In Love the boundaries of the other disappear; all is forgiveness. Merge fearlessly, knowing you will be able to get yourself back any time, soothed, improved, and healed.

    We Are Purrsons for Love – Love is the spirit that animates the empty spaces between creatures.  Once charged, these spaces become a powerful force for growth and change –  uncharged they are so much dead air. This is the space that Purrsons protect. Love is the longing to be truly alive and to share life with the Blissed, Blessed Others.

    Our Yearning Defines and Connects Us – As children we thought we knew about miracles but it seems we have forgotten. As Purrsons we fight for our ancestral memories of trust and closeness. How we long to be reminded of the ecstasy of selflessness, to re-experience the borderlessness between creatures that makes a dead multiverse come alive.

    Love Is Our Being – Life is a spiral, our labyrinth, remember? We can’t go back, we can only go forward. We practice techniques and invent others as we design and redesign purposeful maps in a threatening and uncertain world. We have the collective confidence of all the brilliance of the Purrsons who came before us. Someone loved us once, eternalizing the golden moment, now we can re-create and perpetuate that magic by creating our own miracles.

    Purrson Danger – Danger lies in narrowing, exclusionary definitions of what ‘can’t” happen, what “won’t” work. Purrsons explode restrictions all the time. Love must ever open outwards. As soon as we turn Love into a zero-sum game with a shut-off valve focused on our own narrow gratification, Love dies.

    Purrson Opportunity – Love Is always a Miracle – It can restore the dead to life.  It can open minds, it can awaken hearts. The possibilities of a Purrson are endless because we have chosen, with our flexibility and our sympathetic understanding, to be all-encompassing. Close your eyes and assume yoga’s starfish pose. We are open to what the multiverse longs to teach and once we commit to pass it on, we form an unbreakable chain, free at last from the bonds and the limits of selfishness. Clasp the hand (or paw) that generously, trustingly takes hold of yours. Let’s venture forth together.

    Models & Mentors – ‘to love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides”

    – David Viscott

    “Miracles don’t happen to you, they happen through you.” – Mary Davis

    “Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get, only what you are expecting to give, which is everything” – Katherine Hepburn

    “Love gives you a piece of your soul you never knew was missing” – Torquato Tasso

    “You’ve got to see the miracle to be the miracle.” – Jandy Nelson

    “Love is the gift of oneself” – Jean Anouilh

    “I love you for who I am when I’m with you”

    – Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  • Purrsiflage – Today’s Zen for Your Inner Cat with Alysse Aallyn

    Feb 19

    When You Wake Up This Morning – The Multiverse says its time to think about what you will leave behind when you’re gone. 

    Have you been dreaming of pregnancy? Parenthood? Do you fantasize nostalgically about your own childhood? Do you think about establishing a foundation, benefiting the community? Do you obsess about death, funerals, will-making? Your subconscious is considering the legacy you will leave behind – how to live on forever when you’re no longer physically here.

    You Are the Future – Contributing to forming and shaping young lives is a key way we “replicate”. Hearing your own ideas advanced and improved upon is a unique thrill. Generativity is the necessary completion of the formation of Self.  Super-Therapist Erik Erickson posits “Generativity versus Stagnation” as the stark choice facing us as we grow older.

    Purrson Challenge – We’re usually full of criticisms of our own upbringing – behaviors we do NOT want to replicate. What would you change? What difference do you want to leave in the world? In our capitalist world we always think a legacy is “money” but money is a thorny gift. Think how easily it is lost, misused, wasted, stolen. A better legacy is wisdom: a codebook, “cheat sheet”, a treasure map, the ability to recognize and ENJOY treasure once it is located.

    Purrson Danger – We all know about the monomaniacs who want to rebuild the multiverse in their image. Their view of possibility is restricted to what THEY want, what THEY can do. Time to consider whether our Legacy is just an ego trip. Did we consult anybody else? Will this contribute to a multiverse others want, need and can enjoy?

    Purrson Opportunity – Once again we are offered a magical chance to increase our range, magnify our grasp and celebrate and share our unique joys and gifts. Leaving Granny’s plates or a recipe book to a relative in a will is so unrewarding compared to giving a party around those features. Is there any way we can turn the struggles of ordinary existence into a joy for anyone else? Find out what others need. Think about your own luck and good fortune. Usually we can see a way the path can be smoothed for others. Then we can spend our golden years getting feedback (and usually thanks!) and fine-tuning. What a pleasure!

    Purrsons Preserve Value – Purrsons exist to increase safety where all living things can grow and flourish.

    Purrsons Create Worth – In an atmosphere of respect, value is created. When humans are free to explore, imagination is unleashed. In a time of peace, playfulness and joy are prime.

    Purrsons Understand Tradition – Purrsons are hard-tested. They love to pass on what is valuable. Sharing skills and preventing common errors is the pride of their acquired wisdom. Our heirs are everyone on the planet.

    Purrsons Enhance Sharing – understanding maps, history, techniques and strategies gives Purrsons a special interest in the experiences of others. You are never too old to learn.

    Purrsons Deepen Relationships – It is beneficial for the young to see their elders’ humility as well as knowledge, kindness as well as determination and playfulness as well as persistence.

    Models & Mentors – “Every child is born a genius” – Buckminster Fuller

    “History will judge us by the difference we make in the everyday lives of children” – Nelson Mandela

    “Children make your life important” – Erma Bombeck

    “All kids need is a little help, a little hope and someone who believes in them” – Magic Johnson

  • Purrsiflage – Today’s Zen for Your Inner Kitty with Alysse Aallyn

    Feb 7

    The Stars Agree – You are suffering from an entanglement. An ensnarement in which you are sadly complicit. You don’t think you can escape, so you don’t try. You are afraid that the benefits of your slavery outweigh the joy of freedom. But the imprisonment you do so much to conceal is slowly strangling you – to death.

    Do you fear abandonment?  Have you always been afraid of being alone? In ou Purrson Universal Horoscope, the Clinging Vine archetype reminds us of all of the unpleasant aspects of needing others’ constant support to function.  A clinging vine can’t stand up by itself, it needs an immoveable shoulder to fasten upon. Whose power are you increasing while yours wilts away?

    Americans cultivate the fantasy of independence and self-determination. It’s just too threatening to imagine what might happen if the wall we’ve been covertly clinging to, suddenly comes down.

    Purrsons Require Freedom of Action – We must be dependent on society for basic functions. At what point does mutual dependency become constrictive? What is your supposedly stalwart support dependent upon?  Why have you become locked into a position of support for someone else?

    Who Benefits? Is the cry of the detective when solving a crime – and trust the Universe – your imprisonment is a crime. Look around you. Who’s fat and happy and smiling all the time? Who’s lecturing others about how to knuckle under, a thing they themselves would never do?

    Purrsons Must Define Freedom in Their Relationships – Your freedom requires that you learn to recognize and resist parasitic and exploitive relationships where the benefits are unbalanced. 

    Get Smart. No need to over-react now with rage, humiliation and personal offense. Start drawing boundaries. Look behind your wall to see what supports it and to view the wide, wide world outside. Teaching any clinging vine to stand up for itself is doing it a favor.

    No One Stands Alone – The truth is, we’re all in this together. Billionaires, leaders, CEO’s, all actually need much more support than we ordinary beings fending for ourselves. But they always insist on maintaining their freedom of action – for good reason. 

    Don’t make destructive deals involving your future. Purrsons need to Become Immortal so their futures are always a poignant mystery.  We are responsive to the fluttering of butterfly wings as well as the shifting of tectonic plates. Divest yourself of pointless, (usually “inherited”) shame (from the collective unconscious) and simply acknowledge the obvious truth that humans are, for good and ill, social creatures.

    Life Is a Negotiation – Make an experiment of listing your dependencies – bank, mail system, social security? Vehicle, gas availability, fuel affordability? Grocery stores, restaurants, our own two ambulatory feet? Weather, peace, law enforcement?

    Recognize the Fragility of These Systems. Confronting fear creates some ruthlessness but Purrsons will never check their brains at the door. We are strategic, planning, evolving. Our maps will always need an update and a redesign.

    Purrson Challenge – Are we hanging ourselves in loops of dependency? How can we free ourselves? What could we do to claim more psychic and physical independence? While Mormons may require a “year’s worth” of canned goods in the basement, the rest of us recognize the need for an emergency savings account. We are beginning to understand how a threatened supply chain can snap. Begin imagining some future failure scenarios and hash out the possibilities; if the elevator fails, is it possible to take the stairs? Your dream life will reward you with a lessening of existential anxiety.

    Models & Mentors –  “Don’t set yourself on fire to keep other people warm” – Alysse Aallyn

    “Fear is the memory of pain. Addiction is the memory of pleasure. Freedom is beyond both.” – Anonymous

    “Don’t work harder on someone else’s problems than they do” – Ross Rosenberg

    “Enjoy togetherness but allow space. Respect differing beliefs. Accept, don’t try to change each other. Appreciate the other, but always be prepared to survive alone” – Darlene Lancer