The Hindu chant meet Christian hymns and Christian meditation meets kundalini yoga.

The silence pulls the light of attention up through the thick grease of my backbone; The silence creates a way there, where a crowd of dancers come up and the leader of the dance has light feet. I barely feel the steps in my backbone. It is the dancers in the Degas paintings; it is the question about the dancers for only one answer is the right answer. “I am the leader of the dance says he.”

As I go on with the chant the dance goes on. The dancers do the vine dance catching hands circling around, being led. The delicate feet of these dervishes reach down to put something in place in the ground of my being that has been out of place for a long time . I smile and they go on their way and the silence surge softly backwards when their light feet are truly gone leaving me with the traces that their delicate hands leave behind and their delicate foot work imprints in me. I feel their plans to prosper me and not harm me. 

I am playing the hymn “let me be your servant too” because the tune has been so attractive to me recently. Dancers come to be my servant, to heal me and hold me and make me smile from ear to ear and to put me into fits of laughter and joy.

The Dreams

In one dream I was investigating several brown paper bags, all brought in by Sandy. In each one, there was different homemade cakes. (Sandy bakes a mean cake when she puts her mind to it.) I was looking for the very best one. I kept taking small bites out of them but none were quite right.(A bit like baby bear, I think.)

Maybe my dream above about the cake is about the tv I watch, beset by ads for medications that list 100 different bad side effects. The ads are many for brains and breathing. After an hour of ads spliced into my game shows, watched nightly for four months now,  I know the strange names of these meds. Not much really good cake there, for me but they have it right, the brain, thinking, the heart, breathing are our two most useful tools on this path.

The dream from the young man where he shoots another and then the chase is on.He is cornered, uses disguise, at the woman’s insistence, and then is off again. He is cornered again and decides to “give up.” Has he hit a certain degree of acceptance or will the next dreams tell me where his next move lay. 

The dream of the young woman, Mary, who in her dream pulls off her gold glasses and finds that behind the glasses, she has a jewel encrusted flesh around her eye and that there is a probe going on into her brain through the eye.

I though of that advertisement where the character is asked if his glasses are real gold and he suddenly sits forward and says “Is there another kind of gold I do not know about.” He may not know about the gold  “tried in the fire.” Perhaps Mary’s ministry has some extra special help when she turns and tries to heal others, be a servant.

The above dreamer, Mary,  had an accident, is not hurt but says “everything is slowed down.” I am interested in this slowing down. There are more accidents all around in our thinking and slowing down in meditation will help us with this. 

The accident of thinking that success is possessions. The accident of forgetting that we are spiritual beings. The accident of forgetting the spiritual gifts of healing. The accident of forgetting we are our brothers keeper. Being a servant will be so helpful to remember. 

My client talks to me of her anxiety, as an achievement, about which she can do nothing. We identified it as a lump inside and no point in adding to it. How about a minute for every year of your life on a daily basis devoted to The Word or what ever word you need, to keep you in the way of finding your way out of the coma, sleep we find ourselves in. 

I am playing the melodica. I am a little in love with “Morning has broken” in the hymnal. The words at the end sing of the garden “sprung in completeness, where his feet pass.” The other words are saying about birds… “Praise for them springing Fresh from the word.” Life is one big mystery/miracle.

My Bible co-studiers say that the Word is it and the Bible is the word. Unless we personally imbue the words with the spirit, it is a dead thing. TheWords are no use unless we get a hold on some bit or other until it is embued with the spirit.

I heard the bird chirping near by this cold cold morning where the porch temperature is climbing above freezing as I sit out all bundled up. Nobody was out earlier, just a door opened and a juicy curse fell out. Saturday morning coming down? 

 It is just after 12 noon now. Everything, the snow, even me, has sprung fresh from the Word. There are saints and Mystics to consider. Our thinking is what creates us, for good or ill, or in balance in the Tree of Life of ourselves. Meditation is one of the secret tool, talking to God/Goddess is the secret tool. The embruing comes from the time alone, in silence opening to The Spirit being poured down on from above. 

Jesus is an example of One who got in touch with the Father and had a hold on the Word to the point where miracles happen. He noted before he climbed away from his ministry that we can all do great miracles. Go talk to him or your favorite Saint or Mystic,(Male or Female) or Master and look for that Appian Way, up the backbone to God. It is your very own personal thing. Love from Rose.

PS Prayers please – you for me and me for you.