The day stared out early for this Kundalini Retreat Workshop. I careened through a red light looking for the right road, to be at the pick up for 6 am in Harrisonburg. I had to circle the block just once and our meeting place was where I thought it was.
At our destination in Washington, we set up in rows, maybe eight across the room. Each person had a partner. The tall bearded helper said I should advocate for myself to find a partner and sent me in the direction of the woman helper at the door. Then I sat on a chair and waited. Then one of the other very much older women helpers found a young woman to sit with me. She looked young, and beautiful to me. The opening chant was full of the music of the spheres.
She yawned a lot and avoided my eyes at first, but as we did hour after hour she began to focus on me and yawned no more. They were half hour chants, looking into the eyes of the other, knees touching. Later they went into one-hour chants. Some I knew and sang out with all my might. I love those chants. The hours in the afternoon that made the biggest impression involved the eyes.
The first of these had us make a shape with our hands and look through the space created by hands into the eyes of the other. Her eyes seem to turn a royal blue and I saw peacock feather colors and shapes around her. The following hour we were instructed to place our backs against each other, facing away, and yet imagining looking into the eyes of the other at the same time. As the back of my chair was now at my front, I sometimes had to use it as leverage against my partner. Most of the time my hands were in prayer pose, joined in front. At one point I slipped out and had a vision at this time of blue and white grey smoke coming up over an altar, streaming looking crinkly.
At the end of the sessions, near six oclock, my feelings were full of love for everyone and I hugged anyone who sat near to me. The older woman who found me my partner, said that anytime she saw me during the day, her heart felt glad. My heart also felt glad to be there. For a few days after, I sometimes fell into thinking of having eyes in the back of my head, which gave me a strange feeling in my head. There is a forty-day period following such workshops, in which that which started will become embodied and I am staying aware of such things as much as I can. I am looking forward to keeping account of these times.
The Ant Story Continued.
Queen B said she found Rose’s story about the ants, in a recent blog, hysterical. She liked the comment that Rose made about not knowing why the ant was so interested in her. Rose said the ants had disappeared again noting that it was cold out there. The Queen B said it was too cold for them and they did not have winter coats. Rose often noticed the ants travelling in a line in the direction of her house, and along by the house wall. Rose was not bothered to stop them there. This warm afternoon seems to encourage travelling ants again and there are a few about. Two were in the bottom of the soup pot, without little red coats.
Rose thought of that ant on her glasses, and that he had the intuition that he was on the bridge of doom with her eyes, fixed on him, where he is madly dashing. When he goes around on the side bar of the glasses and runs into the wilderness of her white hair, it is the void as far as he is concerned and should be avoided. Leaping down on to her well-oiled face is just another sea that will not suit and bog him down up to the top of his Wellington boots.
Rose remembers a number of bigger ants from a few years back that found her honey pot up in the cupboard, out of her line of vision. When Rose sees that pot she might stop and get a spoon and eat several spoons of honey. Seemingly the ants had the same idea. Rose’s eating of the honey seems to spread some on the outside of the pot that collects around the pot up in the cupboard. The ants can smell honey a mile away. So they came. Rose had forgotten about this honey pot and there was little else in this cupboard but the honey pot. Now it is full of food she mostly does not like to eat. Anyway, when one of her grown children came for a visit, he opened this cupboard and called out to Rose. She ran over only to see about twenty of these larger ants in the cupboard. Most of them were lying on their backs, sleeping. Rose definitely saw this. Rose reached for a wet cloth and started yelling like a banshee at these ants. They woke up with a big start and flew in all directions. Some got away but some were lynched for likening her honey.
And if you have a meditation story or an ant story or are dreaming about some ants or meditation, be sure to let me know. If you find these stories fun be sure to comment or like as you feel like. I hope your life is sweet as honey and that your sleep is as restful, as the ant, who has found the source of all sweetness and sleeps very soundly as the earth dances around the sun. Bye for now, sending out a prayer for my readers. Love from Rose.