Rose had been thinking of going to the river for some days but it was not until Saturday that she finally got there. The Riven river was full of the spring rains and she was happy to be out in the warm air, under the shining sun. She felt in the need of a baptism and dunked into the water many times, in and out to regulate the temperature set on her by a hot midday sun, and in and out for baptism.  Her swimming hole was cold and deeper than usual but not over her head. She put her head under water a few times to let no stone be unturned in her baptism. She felt cleaned both inner and outer and after warming up once more set off on a walk.

She had noticed a steep short path up between some big boulders and she went that way, as it resembled a path she saw recently in her dream.  Her shoes slid back down at times but she made it up top by going sideways. Many pines scented the air, their trunks along by the warmed up walls. The long straight high walls ran along the top in both directions. She tried talking to the walls but they were silent.

Was this the left overs of some vast temple complex? Did it belong here, or was it imported, from another time and place? Some of the stones were very square and one had a split down the middle from top to bottom. The angles and shapes made a landscape stirring the imagination, with the green of branches, the blue and white of wild flowers all about.

Perhaps something huge had moved the rocks about. Her sixth sense was mute to her. She had the dream of the stones rolling over her but that did not in itself explain anything to her.

One in four people believe in aliens and outer space so maybe some outer space happening or a natural weather disaster changed the rocks. It was not clear to her even with consulting her nose and its link into the golden bowl of the sixth sense inside what secrets the walls held. And there was no writing on the walls, that she could see.

She saw a butterfly flying about and thought how it had been changed. The butterfly had just come out of a chrysalis and was truly transformed from a crawler to a flyer. She realized that all the foolishness of changing herself was different from that of transformation.

A butterfly flying about

She herself was looking for some inner transformation, not sure what is that which will help her fly from her cranky moods, and her temper, what will shift her out the complex of energy inside that triggers her.  Her heart was under scrutiny and she was looking for the very fine threads of gold, her heart’s desires, that when listened to would slowly bring her from here to there.

The soft pale green moss.

She thinks she is working hard, half retired, writing at times and reading and deciphering dreams. The dreams of the rocks rolling over her are an attempt to beat her ego down a little, to allow the feminine to transform her. And when she tries to release her difficult inner character and traits, the devil insists in taking a pound of flesh at the same time, leaving her feeling stressed, beaten by rocks and in a disoriented senseless mood.

In the rocks.

However as soon as she realizes she has been triggered (again) she can understand that the rage belonged not in the present incident but in the old hurt she had buried, a time when she could do nothing to change the situation, which she would have liked to have changed at the tine. This situation was fed by many thoughts of anger and it was all stored in a complex in her unconscious.

Kundalini exercises designed particularly to release such buried anger brought it to the surface and it was triggered within hours. Her old mentor always told her that in releasing the energies, do not become involved with them in the present moment as they will surely twirl you around and leave you down in a hot mess.

Wild flowers beside the river

On looking back at the original difficult situation, she can see that that situation was meant to be and that it helped her transform slowly over a number of years, forced out of a chrysalis of her own making into an ability to have a second life within this one life. And this release of old anger will leave her lighter and she can move on without this complex, leaving her more energy available to live by, and fly by.

The poem below was playing in her mind after a dream of a pillar of light she had some days ago. The walk up among the rocks, complete with a short steep path was similar to the dream details.

A Pillar of Light

The pines along the path

The Path is up among the pines

The scent fills the golden bowl

One rock is rent from top to bottom

A jagged line in the sunshine

She went up to see the Pillar of Light

Do not let her sink down

She of the sprinkling dust

She of the glistening light

Pale blues, pinks and green

Do not let Her go underground

Let the rocks fall on her first

Cast out what is pounded loose

Make a base for the Pillar of Light

Meet the one in the green robes

With flicker of ruby red

Keep the Pillar

Out of the underground

She, Star of the Sea

“Her house to come

down on me.”

At the River warming up after a dunk in the water 

And if you want to work with your ego, as it gets the better of you and your better nature, then be sure to look at the dreams for some clues on how to be transformed rather than changed. And I am always ready to receive your offerings and to be amazed as the wholeness inherent in you that starts coming forward from your unconscious, the blue prints hidden deep, waiting to be brought to the surface, bringing a  slow shift from here to there.  Love from Rose.