The Cats in the Dreams

Evening sky over Mole Hill

I am in a big snit about a cat that is frequenting my front porch and is possibly ill and is putting his excretions all over where I like to sit. My washing machine is busy this morning trying to get rid of the smells. I am down to the cushions and I am not free and clear yet. I think it is the white cat that is limping, injured, young, male, fighting, ferial and hard to catch.

Mandala Art work by a Friend

I feel my father’s irritation coming to me, from years ago, with a cat, who had the nerve to eat some newly arrived ducklings to the farm. 

My father’s cruelty to the cat came back to me, as a dream, when that cat was in the walls of my house, warning me not to be cruel to my children. 

Mandala – self portrait of sorts.

I take this current event with the stinky cat, as a sort of a happening, a bad dream I have to deal with. A need for more respect for the feminine, the body. 

Another face by Rose – a little sharp and sad

Recently, I had a dream of two cats. One is on the couch, sitting on one of the arms of the sofa, in my addition, to the back of the house. It is sleek and shiny, black but no identifying face that I saw. I look askance from the side and feel the feeling of being afraid of this headless thing. I want this fearful thing out. In reality I am usually afraid to lift up a strange cat in case it will bite or scratch. The animal is snug and smug. 

A little snug, a little smug.

The second cat is trying to come in the door and it is a normal calico colored cat. There is a chance I will catch its foot in the door if I am not careful. I do not want to hurt this cat. 

The cats are in my psyche. There are difficult energies coming from the black one on the couch. I have to recognize this attitude and emotion coming from me in my life.  The attitude that I cannot get this black blob out side of me and the emotion of being afraid. 

Reflections

I am reminded of Golem and Frodo as they get into a confrontation in a narrow underground space. Frodo pulls himself up and thinks of all his friends. Frodo is invisible to the evil Golem, and he gets his courage over his fear and his attitude completely changes and he runs like crazy past the Golem character and escapes. Golom had no chance of catching this ball of energy. I was so impressed with this piece of writing. I heard it on a tape in my car  from “Lord of the Rings,” as I travelled eight hours to Ashville from the eastern shore. 

Getting past Golem inside can be hard.

When I thought of the situation this might refer to I was able to put my fears away and greet what was coming through the door. I had to first recognize that the unconscious was showing me an unhelpful attitude I was keeping and which I needed to change. A marvelous connection could be made with this better attitude. The stranger was welcomed. I had something to give and could give with out the wrong interrogation, the wrong thoughts, the fears. 

One of those earrings was left in Greece also.

I got back to being a servant to a situation that intimidated me greatly.

I have been letting the follow up dreams get away from me. Do not do this as they are the core parts of you, your strangers, you need to welcome into your arena, to be danced with, thrown out, welcomed and loved and served as needed.

On the walls in Crete – I was dressed for the water in case I happened on a holy well or the sea.

I keep the situation nebulous in this blog so you can apply it to your attitudes and emotions and pull out what will serve you, your people, your community and the worlds. No need to wring your hands. No need to say dreams are a mishmash of the day. They are a fabulous something, like a full moon waiting to put that pearly substance on you so that you are very fair and reflective to look at, so your face can soften in the right attitude, so you can have the emotions of love. 

Autumn Sky above on Mole Hill

Think of the dream as a giving you truthful material appropriate to your inner life. Dreams are products of the unconscious manifesting in consciousness as images or symbols. This is the best possible expression of something that is unknown to you up to now. When you say you see what the dream means immediately then I have to wonder. Behind the image, which is objective, and visible, is a more profound meaning charged with energy. 

The guide that told the story of the bees.

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Love from Rose.

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Mariah and Her Lost Rings

Mariah and Uishneach went traipsing on the Hill of Uishneach. He was home; she was home and they did not have anything better to do so they set off together in amiable moods.

Musicians in Crete

There was a festival with singing and painting on the Hill. They did not bring anything much except Mariah had a rug to sit on and something to draw a picture. She had acquired some new colored chalk from an extremely talented dwarf, whose great great grandmother was from Greece and was related to dragons. The colors were so lovely. She could not wait to use them.

The musicians and Mariah – music and painting.

They harnessed up the donkey and cart and set off.

They met some friends, they met some family, and all was very happy. The music was very lovely. One of the singers finished a few songs by dropping to the ground and playing her instrument lying down. Everyone laughed heartily. Mariah missed the leaps on to the ground, as she was busy grinding down the chalk for a picture of the musicians.

There was a competition for all the painters, but Mariah felt a little shy to enter her offerings. 

Uishneach and Mariah on the Hill of Uishneach

After a while, Uishneach was impatient to go home. Mariah knew this, as he had a way of looking up at the sun to see what time it is, and paces back and forth a bit. She said to him quickly, “I will meet you at the style, where the donkey is tethered, down there, in a few minutes.” She saw him amble off with her rug in hand dragging down to the ground a little. She saw him stop to talk to a friendly horse. He pulled some grass and gave it to the horse.

Minutes later she was finished her conversations and went off after him, reluctant to leave and having a mind to put her feet in the stream as she went down the hill. There were some bushes hiding him from her as she went.

Mariah looking for Uishneach – feeling guilty.

She felt guilty about leaving him there, waiting for her, so she decided to just let him know what she was doing. However when she went to where the donkey was supposed to be tethered, neither of them were there to be seen, not even a trace of dust in the air.

She knew she did not want to use up her tired feet to find him.

Feet in the cool stream

The stream was nearby and she sat on a rock and put her feet into the blessed cool stream and gave a sign of relief. Mariah knew she had mumbled about the stream to Uishneach and he would be back to find her.

While she was washing her feet in the stream, her two rings, given to her by Uishneach, almost fell off but she pushed them back on to her finger past her knuckle.

“Where were you?” she asked.

When Uishneach came back a few minutes later, she asked him where he had been. He did not care for her tone, or her relaxed look in the stream. He became rigid, putting out his arms in front and asking her where she had been in a tone similar to the cold of the stream. Mariah jumped onto her feet and walked away in order not to get the brunt of his anger.

Their hearts turned upside down.

She got on to the cart, as the argument went on between them, about why she had so delayed, why she could not be found and she in turn argues that he disappeared. He said he went back to the places she had been to find her but he thought she had left without him with some other people.

Sitting on the donkey’s cart in their green wool caps.

They sat up on the cart and were as stiff as wet wool coats, close to each other, stinking and repeating words like the repeating purl stitches in their green wool caps. There seemed no end of words to be spilled out. Everything in shadow that could not have been said before was out on the donkey’s back, as he ran along on his little legs carrying them into some shadow land of their own.

If the donkey could have spoken, if an angel was near by, to strike them for their discontent, and discordance, the donkey could have went wild, but there was no angel there with a sword to alert the poor donkey that he was now carrying around two mad leprechauns.

The two leprechauns multiplied into four, each pulling out their shadow to do their dirty work.

By the time they had left the hill, and were near home, they were settling down a bit. It was then that Mariah noticed that her two rings had left her finger and fallen into the stream. There was little point in saying anything. It was all used up already and she accepted she would have to do without her gold rings given to her in times past by Uishneach. He was the lord of those rings and it would not help to say they were lost now.

Looking for them in the running stream would be useless. Perhaps the Goddess Bride, that ran all the Irish streams, had taken them as payment for something that Mariah owed to her. Or perhaps they were a gift to the goddess, not lost at all but put into her safe keeping, while both she and Uishneach cleared out their clogged up stables within. She would have the head dwarf keep an eye out for her rings. She supposed she would have to talk to the Druid about her temper again. The end.

If you sign up for my blogs on the home page of this site, you can receive my blog as an email whenever I post. I hope you enjoy and I look forward to your comments and likes. Sending out a prayer of peace for you. Love from Rose.

Enjoying Santorini where the air was pure way above the sea – Her rings still on my left hand. -Two days later I gave them to the Goddess of the Mediterranean Sea.
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Trip in Late Seventies to Greece and Islands.

On the bottom of our personal pool – in Santorini.

At the end of August this year, I took a trip to Greece that included the following places; Crete, Athens and Santorini.  I was in Greece, Skiatos, in my twenties, with my boyfriend, on a pre honeymoon, before we got married in December 1979. 

The view from our balcony in Santorini – many climbed this close-by cliff. People could be seen on the top as specks mostly.

We travelled from Ireland, and had a high time, meeting one of his professors by chance, finding mountain hikes, the nude beaches and places where they sold sheep’s yogurt and home made brown bread. My memory of lamb cooked with eggplant and butter stays with me still. 

From the museum in Crete – these nude statues looked marvelous back and front.

At that time the housing was not secured on Skiatos, one of the more Northerly islands in the Adriatic See, where we planned to stay most of our time. When we landed, the boat was met with perspective room renters and when the dust settled there was just a young boy with a donkey standing there, who indicated we should follow him. He put our one big case on his donkey. 

No bee stings on the trip this year. I always like to wet my hair in the water in the monastery, also up on a great height.

We walked up many steps to a house. Our landlady offered us a room with no walls and a cement floor. We were reassured that a finished room was available the following night. It was evening, and we were on foot. 

 I was stung by a bee that first morning but was compensated with a breakfast of eggs and milk.  The omelet was cooked in olive oil and the milk was hot. There were olives on the side. 

I was meditating seriously forty years ago as I am now.

We had a meditation practice by then and we meditated together. We could hear the prayers being sung from a nearby Coptic church. A memory of meditating beside a round short tower near the water comes to mind.  We had a little private spot on the side of the tower nearest the water. 

When I told one of my sisters about going to Santorini this year, she told me of her adventures there in the seventies when she went with a couple of friends for a vacation. There were only donkeys at that time to meet the boat. She was young and slim and the donkey handler had no bother placing her on one of the donkeys. Her memory was of the donkeys passing gas all the time as they went up the steep path. 

The view from the top of the steps at our digs in Santorini.

Sometimes the donkey owner would lift her off her donkey and place her on another. She was mystified by his behavior. He had a spare donkey and wanted to share the load or he found that lifting her back and fourth was altogether to his liking. 

The villages were all white on the top of the caldera pieces

When she was in Santorini, she bought some postcards of the donkeys and wrote a note home to our parents in Westmeath in Ireland. When that card arrived, my mother handed it to my father, as he was sitting in the kitchen having a rest after his morning of farm work and a hearty midday dinner. 

When he read the card, he started laughing and our mother reported that he laughed hard for a good twenty minutes solid. Something my sister said about the “farting” donkeys seemed to set him off laughing.

We went to a nude beach back then.  I asked the woman of the house about  the beach and she said that if she went there, she would have to throw away her wedding ring. We did not have much language in common but she gestured throwing away her ring several times.

While at the beach sunbathing, I got stung again by a bee, that landed on that little space between the cheeks.  I made an involuntary clench when the bee landed and bingo I was stung. We quickly dressed and left without looking back. 

On one hiking adventure up a mountain, we could hear singing.  We were out hiking for most of the day. We were met by a man with a donkey . He insisted we take some figs, black from one basket and green from the other, hanging on either side of the donkey. He wanted us to take a drink from his shared bottle, but we were reluctant.

Sunrise at home in Harrisonburg

Dreams: I am hearing some dreams. I was asked, today, by a fellow Qi-gong exerciser what a dream meant, in which the bathroom she found was covered in piles of poop. 

The word scatology was put forward by our fearless leader and she ventured that the dreamer was dealing with too much of other people’s scat. I volunteered that she was not dealing with her own scat. We had a good laugh as we got going with our exercises. 

A little drawing on Sunday morning

Then the dreamer said that she had another dream when she was eighteen years old, in which she was maiden in a beautiful Indian village and each teepee had different uses and wares in them. She was a healer back then. But in the dream she had to go to the bathroom. When she woke up she had peed in her bed. She asked what it meant and I said she would have to book an hour to figure it out. “A whole hour?” she asked?

Later in the exercise session, I decided to say what was on my mind about that dream. It occurred to me that she was in a past life memory which came back to her at that time when she is deciding what path to take in this life. She has a healing practice now and works with many people. Wetting her bed ensured that she hold on to that precious memory of when she practices the healing arts in a previous Indian life. Over forty years later she remembers it crystal clear even if past live theory is not in everyone’s holy books. 

From the unconscious, something broken showing its face, coming for a little healing, integration.

You can sign up for my blog on this web site, so that it will come to you as an email.  I hope you enjoy, like and/or comment.  You can send me some of that marvelous energy you raise in prayer and meditation. We will both be the better of it. Love you all and may All Love Surround you. Asking for Love that is pressed down and full measure, a blessing not room enough to receive. Love From Rose.

That warm wind was wild, blowing my hair one way and Siri Amrita’s hair another.
Deb in the middle looks like she is just putting up with the wind.
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The Complex and the Bees

The Psychoanalytic in Greece

The theme of our Kundalini Workshop in Greece was Peace. When we are travelling with a group, the family dynamics rear their heads, even in a period of just two weeks, and peace gets a little rocky.  Which leads us back to our family of origins, and what went down when we were in that bowl. We can then find just one more of our triggers, one more of our complexes, which we can unravel and be less bent out of shape in general and in particular. 

Bee hives in the mountains full of honey from the low growing thyme flowers. That honey tasted great. Honey has been used as a metaphor for love.

This experience came up slowly, until I was furious with someone for the way I was being treated. I had to look at it, as this is my game, this is my work. If I am furious, there is usually a complex involved. Our attitudes and emotions lean into these complexes, created in our past, disturbing our peace.

My simple version of a complex is a place where we place all that is unacceptable in ourselves as a child, when we want to fit in, in the worst way but cannot meet that other person’s standards. When we are triggered we want that other person to be different, to accept us or to go away completely if at all possible.

Parents let children know, maybe one in particular, that they are not up to par. Again the child wants to fit in but simply cannot and has to put up with whatever scapegoating goes on.

It can be as simple as an older sibling, not easily accepting the next born in the family. They do not want the status quo to be disrupted and the new addition is treated to body language and some fits of screaming to let her know they are not wanted. It is subtle and hardly detected by anyone in particular. 

Grandmother loved me in the first year of my life but she had left our home,  by the time I was one year old. I was not finding my place as I tried to get my need met by another slightly older sibling. 

It was the loss of the grandmother; it was the loss to the other child of the same grandmother. We were both lost without her. We did not know how to deal with the hook of our love for her. We were totally without her comfort and out mother was busy having a fourth child and without the help of her mother. We were left out compared to what we had when the grandmother was there.

I know I am on the scent of something when I find myself having a scenario relating to my sibling, in which I break something of hers and put it in a bog hole. A little something irrational and unreasonable that appeared in the middle of a workshop. The swirl of the complex is active now. My peace is wobbling.

I realize in that moment that the person, in the here and now, with whom I am mad, resembles my sister in looks. She did not care for the way I was trying to manipulate where I sat in the van. A little hiss from me here, a little frump from her there.

The goats and the sheep produced yogurt that was delicious.

All the time of this aggravation, we were going up an unpaved mountain road, with many goats and lots of beehives to be seen. The road was very bumpy on the middle of the middle row of seats. I was wilding swaying as we went around bend after bend, over pot hole after pothole. 

Describing what happened to the drones

The scenery was magnificent. We were entertained, by our guide, who was an expert on bees. He told us all about the community of the bees and the role of the queen bee. 

Scenery plus

I seem to have heard him say that the queen gets the testicles of six drones and fertilizes all her eggs with those. Those drones die of course but the rest of the drones are allowed to live on in case they are needed later for their sperm, in case the queen dies or something.  It seemed a little shocking. He relished the telling to his van full of women, as his right hand gesticulated off the wheel.

This same woman, on the trip, with whom I projected my childhood losses, put her arms around me and let me know how much she appreciated my work, when I presented my work with MARI cards to the group. Very warm offering in my direction came from her.

When I was eighteen and in the big city, Dublin, I went to the same store, where my sister bought a coat, and I bought one there. It was a different color and style, but she seriously got me for copying her. The hook I was throwing on her was rejected still by her, was being thrown on her still, by me. I had just moved into her apartment from the country for my first job. There I was again hanging on her.

Now she takes the place of my mother in the family, the one who knew our mother best, as she had the job of supporting her while her siblings were far and wide over the globe, in New York, California, England and Virginia. She is like our mother in lovely ways, generous and loving. 

Fellow travelers, Mal from Ireland and Trish from PA.On the back of Mal’s shirt was the Irish Anthem in Gaelic. I so enjoyed both, Trish who was my room mate and Mal, well his Irish accent from Northern Ireland and his teasing were so much fun.

I also remembered that my sister is the same child that put her arms around me when I had an epileptic fit as a child in the bed beside her. That was the best feeling, to have my body held as I vibrated, in involuntary movement, toward a fall out of the bed. 

I have told you the plus and the minus of childhood issues and of my travels. Both were wonderful experiences. My job is to turn from these attitudes and emotions I hold that trip me up out of peace. I call on Love, my help and my strength.

The view down the mountain with the Mediterranean in the far distance center.

Awareness is hard won, and writing about it even harder. Stealing fire from the gods in order to be more human, more loving is no small feat. I hope you can examining the spots where the feeling gets hot and high and take the wind out of it and examining those embers of yourself and take back your wholeness. 

This olive tree predates Jesus by over a thousand years or so.

Please sign up for this blog if you have not already. My numbers climb slowly but surely. Comments are most appreciated. Keep the prayers coming, as I may need them more than ever now. Love from Rose.

The blue peak behind me was a source of interest, when we stoped for a rest on the mountain pass.

PS: At my Kundalini Yoga class today, our teacher Siri Amrita Kaur told us that it was the beginning of a big nine day festival in India. Last night was the night that Durga Ma, Goddess, fought with the ego demon. Happy Durga Ma day to you too.

Siri Amrita leading us in practice on the famous pink beach in Crete before sunrise. The other person is Ben deep in a Yoga pose.
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Back to Basics

Candlelight in the meditation room at my house.

I am pleased to be home again in my house, on the night of a fairly full moon, and awake at 4.30am. After travelling, I am on Grecian time and fully awake.  It is a morning to meditate as the long return journey got in the way of my daily practices.

This morning, after completing some breath of fire, I stretched and chanted “Ick Ong Karr” (The one creator created all) and then followed my old way of meditating starting with the Our Father and ending with The Lord is my Shepherd, trying to interweaves myself together in the in-between, to bring peace within, no longer a stranger or a guest but a child at home. 

I struggle with placing myself on my deck so that I can face the moon and still not be seen from the nearby house and the street that runs along the side of the house. After a few shifts I settle on lying on my back and placing my face such that the moon is on my face and both my eyes. 

A little blueness from the picture got under my hat when I closed my eyes in the monastery

I take time to look up at the stars, and I see Pleiades in the circle of a loosely holding cloud spiral, open in the center. Orion’s belt is coming over the house. There is blueness around the moon similar to the blue in the painting in the monastery in Crete, of the Ascension of Mary, created by one who was in a religious ecstasy. 

This is how the picture showed up in my camera.

Recently a friend told me that she is meditating seriously and does not let herself go all over the place in her thoughts. She meditates twenty minutes morning and evening. I tried to do the same this morning and while I did some sliding, my intentions and breath brought me back to my center. 

Another friend said he takes twenty minutes in monkey mind, the next twenty minutes is settling down and the final twenty minutes of his hour is in meditation. 

I thought why not skip to the last twenty minutes but I go through a process too. 

I said the prayer of centering me in “Thou art my dwelling place…” letting go of the places where I felt left out or snubbed, the places of planning etc. It brought me out of my peevish thinking into the way that I may know the glory of this connection with Thou. The expansion in the chest is promised to us, when we know the way,  follow the way. 

In meditation I was drawn back to a mandala, where colors radiated out from the center and as that image flashed in my mind I felt my own head and a certain radiation out each side as I sat between the moon and the sun. The moon was going down and the sun was coming up. The image of Great light streaming over the side of our earth came back to me from a recent dream.

Dawn

The moon is seen through a cloud haze at 4 am but the haze lifts and it is easy to see it in its startling brightness against the ever-changing blues, sometimes midnight blue, sometimes royal, sometimes Virgin Mary Blue as the sky lightens toward dawn. 

Lots of beauty in Greece especially the blues. Fellow travellers to the left .

I send out this risen energy to all with whom I work, to my extended family, to my readers, my fellow travellers and to people I experience as difficult. There is usually a daily slew of such tiny tiny problems, as well as past problems with others. Then I am finished and open my eyes as I say the Lord is my Shepherd, sometimes singing, sometimes quietly saying. I feel very thankful, at that moment, usually smiling broadly as I finish up. I always know what to do next when I step away from my meditations. 

I had been mulling over how Jesus is connected, how I can make use of him, as I was brought up with this whole concept “to God through Jesus.” As my mediation becomes more embodied, I realize that Jesus represents the heart chakra and the connection with that Thou, comes down and gives a feeling of light and lightness in the heart chakra area, the center of which is in the center of the ark between the nipples. It is shaped like the heart as in the valentine’s hearts. It is Love and can be sent out with intention to others.

Heart images

When I meditated many years ago, maybe twenty, I had a visceral sense of this heart chakra being there in the cavity of the lungs and heart but having its own shape. At the time it was as if a balloon blew up in my chest that was heart shaped and I could see inwardly, as I had my eyes closed, that it was on fire. It lasted seconds and never came again to me in this way. 

Watercolors from Greece

When we are given something like that, it is best to be thankful for the awareness it brings. I do not sit around trying to repeat the situation. 

When my mother had her Kundalini experience, she went back to the same place to catch it again but she soon realized that the experience informed her life but was not something she could manipulate. 

I got some lovely dreams when on vacation solicited from English speaking workers taking care of our needs. 

I was given an image in Crete from a young woman who was very busy managing a few hotels. She said the monster crocodile was chasing her cat and injuring it. She thought that this was about the fact she has no time off and her husband, who was a chef, was busy fourteen hours a day for two months straight, the high season in Crete. 

She wanted just one day off with her man.

When I asked her what she would want to do as a result of this dream she replied, “to have one day off together.” She would have to think about how to do this, so that her crocodile business self did not eat up completely what was feminine in her as represented by the cat. 

Please share if you like, life if you do, comment if you wish. You can sign up for an email to come to you everytime I post a blog. I always love your comments and I am getting into more of a rhythm of praying for my readers. May all Love surround you. Love from Rose. 

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Tibetan Buddha Journey

I got that feeling in the middle of the night that I should go to see the Tibetan Buddha exhibit in the Museum of Fine Arts in Richmond and I was glad I went there. It was the last weekend it would be up.

You have to get past the guardians to get into the squares the are represented in the center.

During my meditation on that night when I decided to go to see the exhibit, I had the feeling that I was coming to a gate, a place where there were two guardians.There were fierce guardians on the side of right. I was not afraid as I felt my hand was held as I went in there.

The exhibit was all about the spiritual journey and I could correlate the writings which accompanied every statue or ritual object to the psychoanalytic and to christian symbolism

Many people recite the “Om Mani Padme Hum” prayer saying as many as they can as fast as they can, to let the psyche know it wants purification.

There was the ritual pot of water to wash the initiates head to help him be collected, let go of the things of the world, Maya, and focus with more ease inwardly. It reminded me of Baptism. They use the bones of a scull as part of the pot.

For ritual cleansing

There were various depictions for the symbol of uniting the opposites. uniting male and female. These are a few.

Above right – also referencing the shadow side needing some attention.

I was not certain and did not linger enough to figure out all the symbology. I thought it would speak to my unconscious and would cleanse me somehow just by seeing it. The real work I do is sitting in meditation. This visit encourages me to continue with my journey. My learning comes from within. Perhaps I had a past life in Tibet.

Many Arms and Legs – Some images are beyond words.



Visualization is important in dream work, creativity and in meditation.

This (above) was the original image that got me interested in the exhibit. On her right hand is a string of crystals, representing the Christ light for me, and the lovely lotus in the left hand. Where the heart is, is the image of the hind, an animal that is so swift and able to jump so high, he is able to bridge the gap from the heart chakra to the higher dimension above where God resides.

There were some references to mandala symbolism. The mandalas here are to help the initiate concentrate. It is required to construct the whole mandala from start to finish and deconstruct after he/she gets into the center. It would take a lot of time and practice. These are a few of the mandalas:

As we left the exhibit, we were presented with a big mirror, in which to see ourselves go by. This week I was presented with a dream from a man in which he was looking in a mirror and could not quiet see, but felt it was another part of himself. Wanted him to use some imagination to get some information from this piece of wisdom from the unconscious. He said he would dwell on it when he had some down time. We will come back to it next time we meet.

It is easy to sign up for my blog so that you get an email each time I publish. Likes and comments are appreciated. Happy meditation. It is always a good thing to invest in, that which you actually take with you to the other side , unlike the filthy lucre. Love from Rose.

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PEARS

What lovely pears you got.

I had a lovely afternoon picking pears in a backyard where the pear trees had been planted many years ago. There were four different types and I came home with four bags full.

I remember when I was just twenty and I read a book about living on fruit. At the time in Ireland there was a great bounty of pears and grapes so I picked those two as the two I should live on. 

Lovely reflection in the green

I also heard that  I should make a tape recording, making suggestions relating to living on fruit. This would help me live successfully on the fruit. So I made a tape repeating over and over “I want to live on pears and grapes.” I would listen to it every day while reading “The Aquarian Gospel of Jesus” etc. or before going to sleep. 

My sister, with whom I was rooming, heard my tape and laughed at my droning on and on repeating my suggestion. She kept that laughter down low in case I might get mad at her.

I had an office job at the time and would visit a little store on Baggot street complete with a counter and a person standing behind it. She kept a supply of lovely ripe pears, much like the ones I have now,  and I would purchase three every morning for breakfast. 

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Sometimes I went to the Dublin market and got myself a fifteen pound box of grapes, pale green, sweet and juicy. When a mouse invaded our bedsit, it sampled just three grapes before going away and giving up on our place. 

I got more extreme, eating fruit and fasting, stewing tomatoes and roasting bananas before eventually giving up. I had a hard time coming back to eating such things as eggs. When I put on weight again, my sister said my cheeks ballooned out and I looked like a healthy cherub. 

My sister had a good laugh at my shenanigans

I had a job as an executive officer, with the Electricity Supply Board in Dublin. They treated me well in spite of my absence while completing the fast. They though I was very sick as did my poor parents. They blamed the crowd I was hanging out with. They were relieved to find out I was not dying of anything serious.

What lovely pears you got.

So here I am again and could live on pears for a few days at least. They have a lovely smell as I pass by them, all lined up on a shelf in varying degrees of ripeness.

The god of the grapes, greek sculpture.

While collecting these pears I spoke to the owner and she told me her life story, which included some hard times. She spoke of  “atrocities” that happened to her. It got my stomach to hear all the details. I had to ask. 

While alive he thought he was the bees knees. He was the one unhappy in the afterlife.

She told me one dream in which the deceased lowered his head to her and said three times “I am nothing.” In life this was the opposite to what happened. She felt that God had been watching all the time and that the evil doer got his comeuppance on the other side. 

Balloons rising up

That night I could not sleep for the amount of pears I ate as I swallowed her story. I did my prayers with more fervor than usual and saw those sacks of emotions leaving me one after the other in big watery balloons from my now non existent womb, emptied at last.

When I say “Thou art my dwelling place” I reference the within space and feel a lifting off, a rising up out of this dimension into what is on offer on the next.

This greek statue from around 2,600 year ago looks just like someone I know whose mother is greek.

These feelings brought me back to my Granduncle Father Bernie giving a sermon in his home church in Beaupark in County Meath in Ireland. It was an old church then complete with a balcony at the back. I liked to go up there and watch from on high.

There was a donkey at Granduncle’s house

Grandmother lived with her brother Father Bernie. We came for holidays in the summertime. It was our Disney World complete with outdoor tanks of water, swings from big beach trees, donkeys, a first visit to the beach and many more fun things. Saying prayers and going to mass was a given.  

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I wish I could remember the words of his sermon now. He looked up at me with his blue eyes.  I have to be content with that line of light back to them from this here and now.

His sermon was around the words; “Eye has not seen nor ear heard, nor had it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him.” He must have repeated them to me as I always remember them. I have his bell and scapula with me, my mother letting me take them from the bottom of a pantry at her house. He always kissed the center of the scapula before putting it on. It is worn.

Daily use for many years, kissed each day before he said mass.

An other dream I got this past weekend, involved rocks. They were in his living room and in his yard. They were waist high and jagged. I seem to remember something about rocks crying out. But why are they muscling into his space. Is there something about the spirit he is refusing to hear?

Jagged Rocks in the yard and living room

My intuitive leap here is that he needs to face the second half of life, fair and square, and bearing that in mind, get out from under these boulders to bring what he can of love and light and healing onto his worlds. Doing something about this dream could include a spiritual practice or any number of things that would let his unconscious know he is listening through his dreams.  

Be sure to sign up on this site for my email with the link to these writings. Pray for me and I will pray for my readers. God knows I need all the prayers I can get to help me with service to others and to back away from all that is selfish in me. 

Love from Rose, her eyes, her ears and her heart. 

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