In the spring, Rose told you about two vultures living in a dormer window on a house on Wolfe Street. Rose took some pictures and posted them. Then she did not see them for months. However this Saturday what should jump up on the ledge above, out through the window but a young vulture? It had rust looking fur framing its face and looked very slim compared to the grown vultures. When the chick realized Rose was not one of its parents bringing food, it stretched its wings and jumped back into the attic and out of sight. Others sighted the parents.
Today, as Rose rode her bicycle up the street, carrying a large water melon from the Co-Op, she looked up at the dormer window and it was empty. Then she happened to glance at the side dormer window away from the sun and the two young vultures were preening their feathers. She smiled at their cuteness.
Rose was all geared up to see a client, who after much delay finally was coming for a session in Rose’s little office off downtown Harrisonburg to work on dreams. Rose even changed her dress and washed her face. All the dirt is gone without trace. She just had to wait.
She waited, and looked outside, but no one looking for her place. She sat down listening to her fountain, listening to air conditioning hum. Done and dusted she felt busted. She checked her message system only to find she was cancelled.
“Get over yourself Rose,”she said to herself. When a new grandbaby visits, it is time to cancel. Next morning at her place of part time work her second and third counseling event was cancelled. The kids had gone to camp. Both events will surely do more good to her clients then an hour with her can.
Rose flung herself back on her couch, to sleep, to meditate, to what she wondered. Two whole hours and lunchtime available. She likes to read Robert Bly and his book “Iron John” when she has slow moments. Today she tackled the hot outdoors and went to the market to get some of those marvelous tomatoes and lettuce still to be had.
There she got a market dream. Rose tried to get the dreamer to see it as a message from the higher self . The motif was of cheating and legal trouble. “I am honest” and she is. But she is cheating herself out of the truth of the imaginable. She is cheating herself out of a metaphorical way of thinking; She is cheating herself out of looking for answers from within. The dream said she would have to pay. The dream says there is a price to be paid, for not being honest about her spiritual life and that was Rose’s interpretation.
Rose forgets the exact words used from the dream. There is a price to be paid for expecting a concrete fix to a problem when she needs to get input from the imaginary, to solve it. Rose thought the dream was a comment by the unconscious. There is a price to be paid for every short cut. Or it could be about the price being paid for not extending the spiritual life beyond a concrete adaptation with a few words of prayer, here and there, added in. Rose also rounded on herself to see how she is cheating herself.
Sometimes, people do not have dreams. Then a drawn mandala can be the subject of the session, or a walk where a client yielded up a citing of a wild animal. In the depressed person, Rose will pay attention to the figures that are drawn, and what Rose can tell about them. She asks questions; what does the figure remind you of? What if it is dressed in all orange? What if the figure looks like a mythical figure, a werewolf or a little vampire or little big foot. She may not talk too much about what is the archetypal meaning of the image at first. The client gives her information about their characters that inform the particular situation of the person with the image and she can watch the energy change, as they work each week. The dreams change and the material drawn also changes. It is a pleasure to watch this happen. The pure natural self within the psyche will rise up as surely as a tree has a true natural self that presents itself according to its seed.
Rose’s blog about the Leprechauns is a fantasy of Rose’s making, based very loosely on Irish lore about leprechauns. She does not care much if the facts of her writing are just that, fantasy, but she wants there to be a vein of truth running through. This is the most important part of this writing. Thank you for reading and for letting her cut her true teeth in this way, in this writing. Please like it if you do, comment if you do or do not like it. All input is helpful to Rose.
And just to cap off her day, she got a little furious with her other half, and this was followed by a dream of the end of the world and Rose being carried out to the bathroom in a lurid pink dress. When she talked to another Rose in the hot tub about her dream, they both saw the funny side of this and laughed a lot. There was no need to explain anything about this dream. Rose just needs to take a big dump instead of dumping her anger on her other half. And the lurid pink color appeared earlier in the day in someone else’s drawing. That was a fun connection too.
And if you want to get past the fantasy, have truth be your identity, then I recommend you work with your dreams and drawings. I will be there to hold your hand and to supply guidance. I will watch you laugh at your own associations and see you get delight and beauty out of yourself as you stretch into who you truly came her to be. It is all around about us. Love from Rose.
Drawings by Rose mostly. A client drew the one on the bottom right. It was of me. I liked it a lot especially the boots and the hair. Pretty perfect don’t you think?