I was half asleep on the massage table, and my session was over; body work of reflexology and of “unwinding my arm”.
My arm had been tightening for the last couple of months. As I became awake, I dreamed/half saw the navy blue marbles, grape like and alive, that flew out of my shoulders and on to the floor in all directions. I was puzzled but kept referencing the scene, as I know that there was numinosity in this happening and it would deliver something to me if I paid attention to it.
A writer’s exercise had me write about an object from its point of view, and I choose some beads. I pretended that they were the rosary beads that were held in the hands of Marian, my partner’s deceased wife, when she prayed the rosary. I have those beads and my partner told me Marian specifically prayed a rosary with them for me at 2.00 a.m. every night, after she met me, a few years into her marriage.
A complete rosary takes about 15 minutes, with 54 individual prayers involved, depending on the person saying the prayers. In fact she left her marriage bed to do this for me for some years, until her illness interfered.
It took three days after I saw the vision of those marbles to realize the message of the above. Meditation in particular this morning gave me the words “Sour Grapes” to go with them and I instantly knew what they were about. The “Ah ha” moment was upon me.
The writing exercise triggered in me a poem about all my sour focus over incidences that happened in the sixteen years I was apart from my partner.
I was holding resentment toward a woman I met only once and continued with a type of chewing that was soured in my shoulders, even after her death. Those navy blue grapes, Concord, are sweet when you suck them into your mouth but have a bitter skin when chewed upon.
The bodywork brought to the surface what was in storage in me. It is bitter in my bones and flesh and tightens and distorts me physically. Seeing that color in particular has the ability to help me change my focus. Actively engaging with the image was my work to complete the healing started by the bodywork, illuminated by the sour grapes poem and finally chased our with the light of meditation.
The bitter poem is now named as sour grapes. It is unlikely that I will start chewing on them again. That great navy blue color, dulled and almost black, was powerful right side of the brain medicine for me.
I will incorporate here the better sentiments from the poem:
I am the beads that survive Marian’s death, that sees him returned to where Marian thought he belonged. I am the beads that will be buried with Rose after her last breaths.
I am the beads that say they loved again, even better, in the short time that is left, a sweet sensor, not broken but held together by both their prayers before God.
May Marian rest in peace. I now appreciate her prayers for me. Very few people have consistently prayed for me, in the night, with cold feet over a period of years and I am now grateful.
A Recent Dream
The image above comes form dream work and art therapy around the male energy from an individual’s dream. The young man with the bag of fast food made a barter that went sour with the older male energy, where the older wants to eat the big cheeseburger belonging to the younger male. And of course the archetype of “The Fonz” is in the middle of it all, being hailed by the dancing woman. It was a lively and fun dream to work with, where there was a whole-hearted attempt to engage with the male energies. It can take some time to get to this sweet spot.
If you want to do a little drawing of your own sweet dream images, to see what it is that will lift you free of your own old greedy male energies, do come see me, so you can dance yourself over the blocks and all the while singing your own song, and dancing your very own dance, with your own Fonz or Marlyn/Mona depending on your preference. I look forward to hearing from you. Love from Rose.