Of Motor Bikes and Monsters

When one of my little girls said she was afraid of the buggy man/monster in the dark room at night, my husband immediately got the broom, brought it into the room, opened the window and “swept it out” to the satisfaction of everyone in the house especially the little child.

The mad bee

Recently I heard the story of a child on a sleep over with his granny saying he was afraid and his little eyes, big and blue, filled with tears. The grandmother put her arms around him as she listened to his story of his monsters and his nightmares, whispered into her ears. She was greatly moved to protect him and as she listened and looked at those tears she put her whole soul into knitting a protection of love to fit all around him.

He stopped his crying and went to bed and had a peaceful night and in the following days was very happy.

Inspired by old photograph

“Perfect love casteth out all fear.” Not only was the child affected but the grandmother was able to throw out her own fears to help him.

Two days later she saw what seemed to be a huge bee in the garden, that got up in her face and she felt it was somehow connected to the child and the fears. I had to agree that anytime when we cast out fears, we experience a little kick back, the pound of flesh feeling. However again the pure love employed to cast it out, also protects us.

Dealing with a mad bee

She screamed and wondered later if she had been imagining things. I think the scream has the effect of bringing her back from the other dimension where that complex of fears, as represented by the bee, abided.

To Market to Market to see the Motor Bikes

During the pandemic, I had my vegetables and eggs delivered. Solly Walker would come to the back door with two bags of fresh produce. If I were away he would put the bags in my overfull fridge.  As the market has reopened I visit Avalon Farm Stand and pick up a share of everything, adding this and that as I am eating a lot of vegetables. 

From the dreams

I like to visit the farmer from the top of Afton also and get some honey from him. He said the honey was just bottled three weeks ago. My father was a farmer who had a few hives of bees, which made him a beekeeper of sorts. I have very high standards for my honey. I also tend to love beekeepers and the honey in the jar – well it was all I could do not to eat the honey all in one sitting.

The farmer bee keeper from Afton gave me free tomatoes, the Roma type and told me to slice them thick, place them on paper towels to soak off the water and then to use them on the top of homemade pizza.

From the dreams

He lifted the ripest and heaviest and the reddest ones and handed them over. The leaves on the basil plants were very fragrant and lovely with the tomatoes raw with oil and salt.

While I was shopping on the side of the market that faces Liberty Street, I was pulled away into a great parade of motorbikes driving down the street. It is a one-way and the bikes looked like they were perfectly socially distanced from each other. They were all going at the same speed and their engines came and went in my ears with a wonderful buzzing.

This water color might be upside down.

They were very colorful and all different shades and sizes. Shiny metallic blues, reds, blacks. Along by the side of the bikes, a policeman looking perfectly uniformed flew along to get to the beginning of this parade at the next junction. There were three wheelers, scooters, and antique looking and newly modern bikes. Some had two people on board and some with one person driving. One woman in her tight blue jeans and long helmeted hair looked like a rock of stability as she rode by on her scooter.

I could not restrain myself from waving at them. They instantly waved back. I saw a rider take his hand onto the horn and send out a marvelous sound. Soon everyone was waving and smiling. We were swept along with feelings of moving energy, longing to be going out of town on a motorbike. We felt happy to be there to feel a jump in our juices as we continued our Saturday chores.

Where I set up painting camp by the river in Bridgewater.

Similarly, last Sunday as I stepped into the North River in Bridgewater, I saw those Mennonite families out in canoes tackling the fast moving water. A younger son had his own canoe roped on to another canoe and he had a look of ecstasy on his face as he stabbed the water with his oar. In one canoe there was an older lady, the mother on the center seat, doing nothing, her arms folded tightly across her chest, and she caught my eye and smiled. Her daughter, a big woman, in small print blue dress and head covering was standing up working a big oar.

There is a waterfall there through the trees which had a great sound.

These energetic things happening all around me brings me hope of robust strong health and energy in my body. I feel the waves of energy possible to achieve this, through the waves in the work that I do, through the waves in my brain that come from loving the rivers, the people, the children and God especially.

While appreciating my readers, the rain, the sunshine and the shadows, all around, my prayer, getting louder, is for us all as a family of earthling, to take cleaning up seriously, whether it be our selves, the rivers, our minds, our energy, our emotions and our politics. It is easy to be thankful for the marvelous honey flowing in the jar, the motorbikes, Solly and the Afton Farmer, but also to be thankful for all that comes our way.

North River wet hair day

Love from Rose.

About rlongwort

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

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s