Mariah was rushing around. Her cactus plant had fallen over a few times due to being top heavy and was waiting to be repotted if only she could find a bigger pot for it. In her haste she ran her left index finger into it. With the help of the sunlight she found the thorn and pulled it out. However some of it or another remained in there in her skin, mostly under the top of her nail to remind her of something thorny that she was not getting. She did not feel it unless she put pressure on the exact spot where it had gone in. She thought of chucking her cactus out by its thorns but the complete ring of flowers in the early summer, with their other worldly pink, prevented her from being hasty.
She liked the way the cactus took on the morning glories, which raced around its circumference three times. When the cactus spines bit into the leaves encircling it they left little tan holes and the vine let go and loosened out from it, falling down around the pot in dejected circles. Morning glories seemed to have the ability to push out two feet of vines daily with flowers coming and going daily. The life that ran through them brought Mariah delight as she looked into their magnificent purple faces. She has some good memories of this duel between her plants.
Mariah went back to an earlier dream a few times wondering how to get a handle on what was being said. In the dream she knew the place she was headed but could not speak the language and could not get good directions from the men, who were there.
She decided to sit with the intense feeling of being stuck. She noticed it a time or two during the day and at night she applied her imagination to it coming back to it more that once before sleeping. She slept until one-ish and did her usual rituals of meditating but nothing came back on her not knowing how to find the place she was going.
However in the morning first thing, she got the image of her mother sitting at a table with two others. Her mother’s face was in shadow and she had a hat on.
The ancestors scratching their heads about where they came from.
Some of the words from her mother came to her as she went about with her mystery dream. Her mother said there is only one language and it is of love.
There may be four directions but do not forget to consider the one above and below also.
Trees are above and below at the same time.
Mariah though about her mother, her grandmother and her great-grandmother, as there were three people together in that final image that came to her as a result of her quest for more information about the dream. She painted her picture of them all.
They were all religious women, consulting with druids when needed, bringing healing to animals and children especially their own and generally living the good life. But were they certain where they came from and where they were going? The end.
Rose has a few ideas of how to bring her dream work to more people. She will lead a work shop in Morocco in September, when she is going with Seri Amrita Kaur for a Kundalini Yoga Tour in the mystical city of Marrakesh with the emphasis on getting in touch with bliss. She is looking forward to that.
Pictures above are from the tour with Seri Amrita Kaur in Guetamala. Rose had a very fine time then and left there in a blissful state. The group were healing the wounds of love on that tour.
She had a new dream about not being able to find her place again. She would have to put this dream in her pipe today and smoke it, figuratively of course. She was glad there is this follow up dream with the theme of not being able to find where she is going again. There is consistency here.
She is looking forward to working more intimately with placing this dream in her body, her soma, so she can see how the psyche is intruding into her physical body because she is not paying attention to something from the psyche. It is like a dimensional layer that comes in to the physical because not all is well in the next layer of herself. Too much emphasis on her animus/male input and too much ignoring of the Goddess energy.
For breath work this morning she did some massage on her offending hip and as she breathed down into the red center of the earth on the ex-hale and up into the blue center of the solar system with the in-hale and put hands on her spine to center the energy there, she noticed she came out in a sweat and relaxed a lot connecting it to the fire of life, releasing herself from some tightness. She was ready to get her tea now.
And if you do feel like singing a song, do sing a dream song. The notes will be most unusual and the melody will suit you immediately. I am working with dreams in my little conservatory here all the time, looking for the notes that crash around in the shadows, wrestling them to the ground and having a good look in their faces. I know that if our paths are meant to cross in due course and the fullness of time, they will, otherwise you would not be reading this. I look forward to hearing from you on the contact page. Love from Rose.
Rose Longworth Counseling 