Mariah, the Leprechaun, was adjusting to the freezing weather and was considering how to block off the four breezes that met in her kitchen. One breeze came from the attic, another from the basement and the other two from her two doors. Sometimes a feather might lift off her table and resettle a few inches over. Rugs and turf fires were some help to prevent the cold creeping up her legs as often as it could. She and Uishneach would argue over whose turn it was to heat up the bed first each night. Uishneach the furnace mumbled about blocks of ice for feet and was soon asleep.

It was then she had to think about other thoughts that were in her head. She began to think there was a stamp on her head. The stamp of whom she belonged to, the stamp of her original maker. Her house is not her house and her body is not her body because it all belongs to her Maker. However she seems to be in charge of the state of her house and of herself.

She could do as she pleased. Cook what she pleased, create atmosphere as she pleased and go where she pleased. It seemed a very loose arrangement as she pulled the many colored quilts over her head.

She looked at the blade of grass and saw it grow until there was a seed head on top and she counted the different kinds of seed heads on her way and she found twenty different kinds on a thirty foot stretch. That was some maker of just the grass. She certainly did not create that.

Druid Bernie seemed to think that we are spit out by the Maker of all and that we are on our way back, and can tarry however long we want to here, getting to know how it all works, having free will, so we can get a grip on our evolution, helped by love, and the fruits of the spirit and by and meditation, in particular.

He seemed to think we might be evolving from the hard core real of the cold physical and rational world and into the ascendance that a good story brings, or a good prayer or chat with the Maker. Being together with others, in love, laughing evolving onto higher energy, yet still here, heaven on earth, seemed to be his thing. He liked to meditate and have others do the same, as this brought down an energy on you that changed your heart when combined with ordinary efforts to be in helpfulness with others and in love with all of it.

Indeed Maria often did meditate. Druid Bernie had put forward that we are marvelously made by our maker and that as we meditated we could open up these temples within us that are already there, this maker standing at the door waiting on us it seemed. That which made the blade of grass to rise, that Life, could also ascend through us and make us fruitful in a spiritual way. The blade of grass does not have to think. We insist on thinking. And that the thinking of our thinking is what creates us in our here and now, held in the way we find ourselves. We can use that thinking as a servant of the higher in us if we wanted.

Angel of the morning – don’t let me walk away.

She decided to sit down that early, early morning as New Year’ first morning was upon her and to see what’s it all about. She tried to keep her attention centered in the center of her head, as that was where there were two cathedrals beside each other inside. Druid Bernie had names for them. She felt herself flying backwards. It lasted a few seconds.

Something did rise in her if only for a few seconds leaving her landing and quickly coming to a stop. She felt held in a speed, a vibration that was beyond words. She ended her meditation her usual way by releasing all that got in the way of her path to the light. Then whatever light she had raised, she sent to others, who requested help and surrounded others with the light, especially all her relatives near and far. When she was finished it was two hours before dawn, time for this bird to get back to sleep she thought, and with a smile on her face she raced away into slumber. She might put her nose out into the cold the next morning but only for a few minutes, as she put many woolens on her, and looked like a little onion rolling up the lane.

The Lane

When Rose awoke on New Year’s day she was surprised to find it was near eight o’clock and the temperature way down to one degree outside. She had a dream she was going on a trip to Morocco. However she did not have her passport with her, as she got ready to leave. She connected the dream to her inability to acknowledge she is not prepared properly and she should make some solid plans to increase this readiness to be in the bliss of it all, to ascend and fly as well as land and be in the landing in the here and now.

Rose joined some friends, as she does every year at this time, expressing in art her hopes for the new year and making it solid, inviting in the right side of the brain, to be up-close and personal with the creator maker side of herself, on this first day of the year. An attempt at sealing her life to the Life of her Maker today, stealing a little fire, making symbols to inform her unprepared self where this Rose is going this year.

And if you would like to get the year off to a good start then know I am available for consultation through your own dreams. I will lead you through this special trip of your unconscious dream into taking it into the conscious through art work and mandala and association. It is always a good thing to get a hold on your personal energies that can bring you that new year boost so needed in the cold and winter of the year, in the cold and winter of ourselves. May you be in Love, in Peace and in Warmth this coming New Year. From Rose.

Teacup Mandala