A dream I heard lately was of fourteen foxes in the tree. There were other images of a fiddler with the sound of divine music and a mandala shaped grove of pawpaw trees. The dreamer was sharing the music and the pawpaws with others. I am still loaded up with these images and sitting with them as if they were mine, because they were full to the brim with meaning and connected deeply to the dreamers who had them.
There were a flock of cedar waxwings in the tree just outside my window, this morning. This tree has grown in all kind of directions during this wet summer. When I peered into the tree from my window, many flew off and the ones still in there were hidden with the leaves.
When I was young (in my forties) I went to school, undergrad at JMU, and walked by the Newman Lake where there were two weeping willow trees, into which I went as I walked along. When I went in there, there was a crew of cedar waxwings under the branches, flying up and dropping down and I called them “olive oil drops in the air.” They had a way of dropping that was like the way a drop of green tinted olive oil drops out of a bottle, shiny and of a drop shape.
In my old house in Belmont, I let a rogue tree, a berry tree, grow up over the deck, out of the mulch which was only supposed to grow the grape vine and flowers. This tree gave us shade, bird’s nests to look into and it stayed covered with berries for about six weeks, around May. The top of this tree came near to a window of a room with an upstairs window seat.
This little room was off the bedroom, where I was doing a late meditation of a morning. Then I heard a great ruckus outside. It was like no sound I knew and I got up to see what it was and a whole flock of cedar waxwings had come to finish off the berries. They came and went in a few short moments. The tree took on an unusual buzz, as their wings moved and the leaves and branches shook together and as the berries were pulled into their open crooky beaks of the waxwings.
Last evening I did my meditation for 8.30pm, a little late. I set up in my counseling office, thinking that it can always do with a psychic cleansing from the meditation. I did a little chanting, prayed for all the leaders of nations, all around the globe and for their peoples so that the greater good could happen to them all. I invoked the higher power to do this work even as I added in my bit of soul into the mix so I have my two cents, my time, my attention and skin in the game.
Asking for help is the praying part of the practice. I set two periods each day to make this prayer. I think chanting is a type of prayer. I’m appealing to the Divine within and without at the same time.
After chanting, saying the Our Father, releasing all “negative emotions….” I go into a silent time. I keep still, my body is sitting in one position and I have the idea to not move for any reason during this time. I close down the mind (as best I can) during this time, bringing back the focus to the Divine and the intention to listen to God during this time. I am now listening (not for God) but to God.
Then I just have to wait. This morning I had the impression of me watching as a van, a red van comes (without any windows) and I am looking down as it pulls in.
I barely noticed this image, feeling like it is a dream that I just about caught before it disappeared. I realized that this red van image , may be a response to my intention to listen to God. I open my eyes and look out the glass window in front before which I had set myself meditating, and saw the tall trees across the road. The glass between us had become as nothing, and the leaves shook just enough for me to see them individually. There was a lovely feeling left in the wake of the meditation.
The red of the van was a bright red, and may be highlighting some connection with the first chakra, that place where the roots of the tree of life,F of the divine within start growing. The unconscious, the intermediary between God and me gives me just the right image for now and I will be looking for how it will morph as I look for my own new dream images.
It has taken me a while, over fifty years to settle on this way of meditation and use it in the right way. Pining myself into silence works best, the more intentional, the more consecrated, concentrated I get.
I went to the Farmer’s Market and what should I see but a wooden box labeled pawpaws. I took the biggest and softest, four of them and was warned by the owner to eat them soon as one was a little bruised and very much ripe. I went home and sat on the deck, not even going inside to eat the pawpaw. It was straight from heaven the taste, so juicy and full of melt in the mouth custard consistency, like the sweetest tasting thing of my childhood.
I asked Solly about the fox image and he said it was the most smart of animals. He recalled seeing a hunt for the fox by the hounds, riders and horsemen. The fox would go all around the place and confuse the dogs so they could not find the fox. Then he saw the fox, standing up on a wall, watching the horses go by as if to say “I tricked them.”
When my two baskets were full I headed for home and am finishing up wishing you peace and love and kindness for yourself and others. Remember you only keep what you give away. (Two of my pawpaws are gone and I am negotiating with myself if I can give one of the other two to a friend that will visit in the afternoon.) As you can see I continue to need your prayers. I try to pray for my readers routinely. Love from Rose.