Growing in the lawn

Rose is getting ready today to give a class to eleven students who have been recording their dreams for a month. She is told they are ready. Rose have been furiously drawing some mandalas. The mandalas are an assortment of shadow and of light, both of which have to be considered by Rose. Her light is her meditation practice, her prayers in the night. Her shadow is those thoughts in the head that are opinions, dragging in the past, have nothing to do with life and insist on focusing on the futile.

Dancing Divine Mother

Just growing in the grass after it was mowed

It took her a few hours, some sleeplessness, a little tension and stress to get to the other side of her thoughts. Asking for help was answered, through walking in the wet grass and talking to the Walnut tree. That tree surely knew something about flow and growing as it is spring and enormous transformation is taking place. Divine mother earth is near by. She consciously addressed her, asking for help.

The Walnut Tree in the snow, not long ago

Some use the I-Ching as a psychoanalytic tool. The I-Ching book asked her a  question and this is her interpretation “where did you get the idea that the puny thoughts in your head were a good idea to entertain on a rolling way, around and around in the merry go around of the ego.” Rose found it almost impossible to stop it. A little mantra helped her get to sleep. Later meditation helped her get some more sleep, always helpful. She awoke still obsessed with her thoughts, possessed with them really, thoughts from her left brain.

The face within the face causing a little headache over the left eye.

Rose took a look at one of those mandalas she drew. She had lined up all her recent mandalas on the windowsill and had been throwing her eyes on them at intervals. There was a face within the face and as soon as she identified it with the talking head of her ego, it crashed down at her feet and she was freed. That is the glory of a mandala. It gives you something straight from the unconscious that frees you. She had to look at it. Identifying the red eyes and the ugly red mouth, telling her of her flashing eyes and her talking in anger. All the blue in the world could not make it better until she sees her participation with the shadow in herself. “Not today Satan” as the car sticker said.

The lilacs are coming on in spite of the frost and smell great

So she is ready to teach her class tomorrow. She think she will have a good time with this class who have been focusing on all things unconcrete in their class for the last few weeks. Picking out the real truth offered up in a dream and letting go of the rest, so that there is an aha moment is the goal. Rose feels she got her aha moment with the mandala.

Rose has been writing an ode to the Walnut tree for a few days and it goes as follows:

Peace Promise

Sit on the sap

Simmering roots

Of Walnut

Wait

For the One

Rising Peace

Lover

Sunset fans the sky

Late wings

Fly

Full in unison

Crescent moon

Purple glow

Of growing

Green pools of grass

Blue orbs a promise

Flower and Fruit

Perfumes

Slow peace spills

From the crown

Sparks in the heart

Spears away the wasted

Clear fires open spaces

Of a Peace that sits easy

Of a Peace that drops slowly

Deep into the feet infused

Pooling in her red shoes

On the roots of the Walnut

On tour in India, one of those sandals on the top right is mine.

I am happy having more people interested in doing dreams with me in my home office. I got feed back from a client about a mandala she drew in session as we discussed her dreams. She said “This gave me a new lease on life… repeated reminder to not get entangled in injuries inherited from father. Pick out the thorn so not clogging things up. Brilliant and beautiful. The Mandala was a seed of fire, a clear channel…” And if you want to process trauma, shadow stuff, identify ego and opinion, then come work with me. You have to be ready for such work and I will be helpful to you as the journey starts for you. I look forward to working with you and all things not concrete, of the spirit of the Divine Mother. (My mother’s birthday falls in April as does that of my sister Mary, both deceased. Both had great devotion to the Divine Mother, and got great comfort from that devotion during their lives.)

Mother on the Avenue