Never is our inner fulfillment dependent upon anything or anybody in the world of effect.  "Go with a tender step" to the inner sanctuary and there plant the seeds of  your outer life.  Each truth recalled will soon become alive and bear rich fruitage as though you had planted actual seeds in the nourishing soil of God's earth.
Sara Robbins wrote; "Let each within his heart a temple build--where no man is a stranger."  While waiting quietly at the Center, your realization of Oneness assures your oneness with every spiritual idea and every spiritual being whom you can bless and serve and who can in turn be a blessing and service to you. 
Between times do not allow the human mind to become active with attempting to meet the problem at its own level.  Do not "peek" even to see how things are unfolding in the outer scene.  Keep the golden chain unbroken for upon the chain is the golden key which is better, far better than Aladdin's wonderful lamp. 
Stop thinking and stop talking about the problem and think about God instead.  Make of your soul a sanctuary, make of your heart an altar, make of your mind a temple, and when you leave that secret place of the most High you shall find as did Emerson, that a Watcher, a Holy one,  walks behind with long affectionate glances of inexahustible Love.

                                                Dorothy Moore/IW practitioner

                                              THIS IS THE WAY

And this is the way to care for the planet

                           One Life--         
                                                 yours and
                                                 mine and
                                                 birds and
                                                 animals and
                                                 bugs and
                                                 plants and
                                                 water and
                                                  earth and
                                                  trees and...
                           All life

We love our planet when we know...


                  We flee the hunter's bullet and
                  We are polluted and prostituted  and
                  We are hacked to death by chainsaws

           We know and  feel the pain and
           We begin to hear the cries of

                                                 Our Mother
                                                 Our planet
                                                 Our Selves


                     GIVE HONOR TO YOUR DARK SIDE

           Give Honor to your Dark Side.
                           Honor the reflection of self in the eyes of anoher.

                                              Use this experinece to walk a path of wisdom,

                                           to grow,
                               to release your self-imposed

                                               traditions of the past,

                                               outmoded ways of the past,
                                               of perceiving and believiing.

                             All that you wish to be free of is inside the self.

                                                 Look at these things.

                                                                Honor them for their gift to you.

                             Then, let them fly from the wings of

                                                your consciousness.

                  Let go....

                                                          And thus,

                                         Travel to the stars.

                        Songs of the Arcturians  by Patricia Periera
                                                                                               The Initial Song 1987    


                                         Invisible obstreperous intrusion

                                    Like subtle bits of stale and
                                        acrid air that assult then
                                                                   fragment the whole.

                                    Asleep in dull distraction, the false
                                                    forever craves its lover-
                                                                    its creation-
                                                    who comes quickly bearing gifts-
                                                    empty boxes gayly wrapped
                                                    mind baubles
                                                    cacophany of ego balm

                                    While Soul in Silence, 

                                                                                       Marilyn ChampagneRaffaele/1992