Mariah and Uishneach were stirring in the morning. She knew Uishneach was finishing up breakfast, as he was absentmindedly scraping the pot for the past five minutes. Surely he hated the pot, she thought. She would have to check it for holes and have it mended soon by the tinker man if he did not stop scraping the pot. She decided to leave the house early and not get into any tangles with him over the pot. Getting out from underneath the underground would be a breath of fresh spring air.
She was unsure which direction to take, to go up the hill or down toward the bog. Both beckoned but she decided to take the path less travelled by her and go up the hill. Surely there was some shrubby hawthorn, stunted by the wind, wanting to burst into bloom that she could fall in love with today.
The robins and the finches were very busy this morning near her house. She noticed a pair of finches busily investigating her roof for a place to nest. They went to an old site, a little ledge, looking dirty form previous uses, now with cobwebs and some other dustiness there. One finch slipped down into a corner, as her feet slipped on some tin and she stayed there for a minute before getting out and foraging for house and food some more.
The cats were busy chasing the birds with the tabby one especially busy, chasing the newly returned robin, and crossing back and forth as the robin continues her search for food. The black cat got up into the nearby tree, settling on an old rounded branch to better watch everything and to be in the right place if a bird should land near him. He seemed older until he carried on like this. He was feeling the spring sap in his old bones too. She worried about the birds but knew she could not control this hunting by the cats, so she raised up her eyes to the hill she was about to ascend and left the area. She carried a little bundle, as she knew she might stay out for the day, maybe even stay in the underground places to be found near the top of the hill, if she made it that far.
She went by the well that was known for the healing of the eyes. A little of the mud there mixed with water was always helpful on the eyelids and she sat there in the sunshine for a time, with her eyes closed. It was said that a golden woman from the other world had sent down radiance into the water and into the earth there and that it stuck there and never went away. The well was near the base of the hill and her first morning stop.
She drank her herb tea and soon passed out into a lovely dream. A woman passed by with a halo of star light on her crown trailing light behind her. Her light enveloped Mariah and she was lifted up some feet into the air. She thought she was levitating and started some screaming. She was awake with a startle. She washed her eyes off and went her way. She would have to stop nodding off into dreams every chance she got. She felt energized and decided to return home by the streams instead of going up and up.
She met with Druid Bernie near the well, where he was sitting on a great big round stone among a load of other stones. He told her that this was the place that was settled by the druids in much earlier times and that the stones held certain holiness for him and he liked to meditate there. They used to have some rituals with the blackthorn stick, circling them above their head in healing rituals.
She sat with him for a while meditating too. She felt she sprouted a hundred roots that reached down into the ground and drank in the silence and the holy water. She always felt the energy of the druid increased her ability to concentrate and to get to the place where what was solid in her turned to liquid and what was liquid in her turned to air.
When they finished, after sending out blessings, and feeling blessed, she shared her food with him under a pine tree growing out of some stones. As they sat, an evening shower scattered the sky light into two rainbows and sprinkled them with rain, and purples and blues.
When she came back home tired, the cat plopped out of the tree at her feet, scratched his ear a little and went off to get some food. She was glad there were no errant feathers around her area. She could hear the music coming through from her house and she was looking forward to hearing some favorite tunes that evening. The end.
Rose, this morning is sitting on her porch. She found a pen in her bed and took it as a sign to write something early this day. The bird’s early morning frantic search for food seemed to be over and the cat had come down from the tree and the birds and cats had all left her area.
She had some afterthoughts about the dream from yesterday, about a crash, where she was full of emotions as she looked into the eyes of a person taking their last breath. She was also thinking how the orange ball, connected to the dying person, represented the second chakra in the pelvic basin, Sardis, and how it connects with the sixth chakra in the head, which is a deep rainbow indigo. Some old shells in her body had died to let those two colors mingle in her and lift her into something else.
(The above was written just before the crash, see last posting prior to this: “The actual Crash.” It is interesting that the dream of the crash predated the actual crash by about 24 hours. I call that synchronistic.)
And if you want to talk about your walkabouts, your drawn mandala, your dreams and visions, your own mystery questions, then give me a call and let me know when sitting together will suit you. I like to work on Thursdays at my home office. I can be looked up further on this site and on Psychology Today, if that is something you want to do. I look forward to hearing from you. Love from Rose.