Sprouting with Anger

On Saint Patrick’s morning in Dayton, Mole Hill and the trees are perfectly reflected in Silver Lake

Mariah wondered where her anger all came from. Did she learn it from her mother when she spoon-fed her milk and honey? Her mother had some fear of her husband and she liked to tell her stories about the men; Some of the older folk, said “the best one among them all was never any good” as they blamed their own inaction on the menfolk.  Her father had a temper and she may have learned it directly from him, and did not hesitate to shout or throw what ever was at hand, especially at her mother once or twice in his life. He hit her in the funny bone with a lump of pyrite once when she tried to tell him what to do. 

Pyrite and another grumpy looking rock holding it up.

She was with Uishneach after a few days absence and she asked him to come and tell her his stories as she got into preparing her evening meal. But the tone he took, the words he said made her insane and soon she was wishing she never asked him out to be with her in the evening sun as he sipped the last of his wine. When she tried to discuss it, he went into deliberate babbling sounds, like a group of crows talking to a hawk they did not approve of. 

Mariah and Uisneach had a little tiff.

All this registered as a lump in her solar plexus area and she carried it around. She distracted herself with some old stories. Then she deliberately sat, as the sun was going down and looked to the west. It was a beautiful evening sky with light blue in places and golden sun lighting up a thin film of clouds over the nearby blue hills. 

Old Leprechaun stories were always popular

And as the sun was going down she closed her eyes and thought she did not wish to be angry and how it would fill her full of the seeds of grump. She decided to breath in and focus on who she wanted to be and who she believed herself to be. She wanted to develop her heart and soul into feelings of love and to breathe the air of the evening into that. She was only dancing on this little earth for a short while and would she waste it in violent clucking and revenging and resentment?

A thousand Welcomes

As she sat and glanced again to the west she stared into that space where she had a glimpse of heaven pulled back too late. She lifted out into that space and found she was holding beautiful light filled hands.  She was in a stream of movement, carried along among the stars in the Milky Way. She was free from herself and her place of imprisonment and onto that place in her solar plexus where soft light is shining where her own Milky Way can be found, where the milk of human kindness shines. The love found in the Morning star was hers when she sought for the feelings of love to fill her heart. 

The flowers are in bloom from the Farmer’s Market

As the movement stopped she came back to herself and knew immediately that she and Uishneach were made of the same cloth and that she could let go of what had trigged her into resentment and complaining. She would go back to loving him and turn from what makes her tied to the grind and the ground in a bitter sound. 

Cooking up all kind of good things to eat.

She jumped up and decided to make some food for the next day based on a recent dream she had. She has some alfalfa sprouts make already and she make corn cakes in an iron pan in among the coals of turf. She cooked some beans with lovely seasonings and combined them together on top of a freshly cooked open corn dog heaped up with sprouts and layered above and below with mashed seasoned beans. She also popped some corn in the turf fire and stuck the popped corn all over the laden corn cake trying to get them to stick to the sides and to the center. She wrapped it all up in some pieces of linen cloath and left it ready for Uishneach for his travels the next day. The end. 

Perhaps he is telling me some dreams or visions at the Golden Temple in India. Pictures by John Bradley.

Rose was all around the place harvesting dreams and visions. The one of the yellow cow being cared for and cleaned by a Mary was a lovley vision that interrupted the flow, as the owner of the dream, breathed deeply and moved in exercise. The vision came with a thundering into the mind and blocked out the exercise sequence. Rose was impressed with the images and linked the yellow color to the third chakra, which is the Don Tien of the Tai Chi. That there is a woman, with the Mary name doing this cleaning and caring for the yellow cow within his psyche is a great thing, to be in touch with a helpful anima, the woman inside. The cow represents female energies and is sacred in India, brining in further meaning to the vision. “Please draw a depiction of the yellow cow” Rose requested. 

I can tell by the hair that I was in some water, perhaps at the Golden Temple.

Rose went to a baby shower. She brought a sprouting jars and sprouting seeds for the mother, as she had had the dream of the corn, beans and sprouts,  as something good for the mother to eat. Rose had great success sprouting the lentils and has been eating them lately. She tried to sprout some sesame seeds but they are inert, treated in some way. She is on the lookout of alfalfa seeds.

The daffodils are in bloom and my sister Frances left for Ireland with her cats on Thursday. The cat creations on my alter are hers. They all arrived safely in Dublin.

The pieces of popped corn all around the corn cake, she has not tried yet. Rose almost forgot that detail, and finds it a little funny. Brenda, at work, will have some kind of fit if Rose brings that to the noon meeting on Thursday. Brenda always makes a big fuss of Rose’s “green slime” and other unfamiliar and questionable fare, that she feels free to consume in front of her companions in the counseling center she frequents two days each week. They are a patient and good group of co-workers.

A little dream senario

I am trying to slow down a bit again, going less places, seeing less people, being less on face book. I do consider some counseling to be my chosen occupation and some writing to be what I want to do with my life. I always feel happy to have put something together in this way, through counseling and through writing. And if I can include some things that are coming up for me, that I know may also be coming up for you, then I feel I am ahead.

I wish you all a very happy Saint Patrick’s day. Love from Rose. 

About rlongwort

Licensed Professional Counselor. Dream specialist.
This entry was posted in Dream Counseling, Psychoanalytic, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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