Foxes and Pawpaws

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.

Mandala of tree tops

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.

Recent Mandala connected to Mari Reading

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.

From the dreams

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.

At the river in Bridgewater

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.

In Wildwood Park in Bridgewater

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. 

The other side of the once three pronged tree – a little bandy.

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.

Women helpers from the dream world – Dark skinned women from the dream of a young white man

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.

Sometimes there are birds in the trees. Othertimes not. (A tree in Purcell Park)

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.

Photo of the almost eaten pawpaw

 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. 

Two pawpaws and two brown seeds in the middle

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.”

From the market

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.

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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.

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The Dawn and the Dream

This morning I awoke at 5 am and having had eight hours sleep I got started with my morning practice. I have been doing this practice upstairs for a few months but I felt the pull to go outside again, get warmly dressed and set up on my deck. I rummaged and found some warmer clothes to wear, pulled out my winter wool hooded striped wrap, and got started. At some point I lit incense and the bee’s wax candle. There was no breeze outside to speak of.

Dawn at the beach a few weeks ago.

I faced the big walnut trees, as that is the place behind which the sun comes up. There was a huge planet in the eastern sky. It was mostly hidden with branches. I leaned over on my side to get a good view through one of the holes in the branches. I lost my balance but had a good view.

As I lie there stretching this and that, I can totally ignore my leg pain. I suspect I have some kind of vested interest in keeping it there. It occupies my life quiet a bit.

The morning was beautiful, pretty quiet to begin with but I could hear the insects chirruping lowly all around me. The sun came up at 6.35am and I was ready to be sitting quietly, singing a love song. As the beautiful colors of the dawn arose all around me I had the impression of the music of the spheres singing over me. My face was full of smiles. 

Dawn smiles

The invitation to listen and hear the birds and insects join together in praise in the morning surrounded me. Just as I finished my chants, a wren flew on to the deck, on the corner, a little above where I was siting. Like myself, the bird was a bit tattered. I was fairly still at that time and I hooded my eyes and just kept them one-quarter open. 


I have this impression that if a bird can see my eyes, it will take off and I so wanted it to stay this close to me. I formed the thought that maybe it would sing. It stared directly at me a time of two but then seemed satisfied that I was no more that a log on the deck and just started to sing at the top of its voice. And as if that was not enough, it moved a quarter of a turn and repeated the song four times covering all four directions. 

The waves of the morning song broke over me, uniting all parts of me, lifting me into the morning sky and held me in this music of nature. This song united everything.

From he dreams

I had a dream experience of birds.

In my real life, I was invited out to gets some melon from a full august garden.  When I went there I found myself on a high chair, with a red seat and highly polished legs.  I had a mug of Tutsi tea in my hand and I was talking about dreams and chanting. I was out in the beautiful garden, full of produce, corn and three kinds of melons, tulsi and basil. There were cucumbers on the trellises and tomatoes. There were fruit trees and the tree that the Indian Yogi liked to grow also grows in this garden. That tree was more vine than branch and was supported by a cage.   

A well loved melon

The house and garden are on the side of a hill, near the top, overlooking a valley and there was a dip down into farmland and up the other side onto the distance hill. It was a great expanse, a few miles wide. This is a high place from which to see rainbows when the rain sprinkles the valley and this evening to observe great white clouds gracing the sky.  

Here in this garden there was holy water sprinkled from the fountains of water supplying the water to the Golden temple in Western India. I heard of the practice of scattering salt in the foundation of a house and I have some water from the Mary Shrine in Knock in Ireland that I got from my mother by way of my sister Celine. I keep the hold water to bless myself for protection at times. 

Sunset over the Blue Ridge Mountains

It has been a few years since I was at that Holy Shrine of the Golden Tempe in India and I am so thankful to have been there. Most times I say a certain chant, I see the gold of that temple and I see a corresponding fine gold in my body below the naval. 

After an hour, not too fr from sunset, I went home with a whole baby melon under my arm and I ate half of it that evening for supper. Now it could fit in my refrigerator nicely. I woke up to practice a meditation and when it was finished I fell asleep and had a dream experience. 


In this dream experience, I was looking out over the valley described above. A flock of birds, all flying together were above me over the garden. The birds shone silver as they dived and turned in the air. The surprising thing that happened inside of me is that my body of a sudden blazed into a flying energy and as I saw and flew, I came back to by bed and darkness of my room, full of smiles at what just happened. 

The waves of flying broke over me, uniting all parts of me, lifting me into that vast sky space, and gently dropping me back into my body. Like the wren earlier this morning I carry that energy with me, often thinking of the sensation of flying and of the little flyer wren. I am grateful for this heaven on earth that is all about us. Love from Rose. 

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The Zero Card

I am going through a realization again that I am on the broad and fiery road and not on the narrow street, straightforward, wherever the spirit leads. This had been coming slowly to me because of the way I am feeling, what I am reading and the dreams I have and that my client’s being.

I think this is n image I saw on a local truck.

My client brought me a dream about a person whose association brought up the tarot card, the Fool.  As the images in the Tarot are mainly archetypal, I decided to look up the Fool associations in books that I have. It was marvelously freeing to look at the twenty pages about this “Fool” and what meaning he might have for this young woman. 

When we look at various interpretations I was drawn to the image of the Fool from a very old French deck. The fool in this deck was blindfolded and was near waters/cliff, over the edge of which stared a crocodile. The Fool is travelling very light, carrying a thick staff about the length and width of his back bone, on top of which are some bells and has a violin tucked under one arm.

My own clown/fool looking a bit sad.

I had had a dream earlier about what I thought was my back bone; it was raw and meaty and two hands were kneading it like the old style washing machines that my mother used, in which the water goes back and forth to wash the clothes. It reminded me of the staff carried in the hand of the Fool, leading him on.

The hymn from the Christian tradition, says “I go before you always, come follow me and I will give you rest.”  

The eastern religion might see this staff, as the Kundalini energy, which has that ability to go before you leading you in the path everlasting.

My happy clown /fool – painted while I water to see the comet.

The Fool is the Zero card in the deck. It has the power to open you to your spirituality and comes from a time when the Tarot was used to help with such inner journeys.

I do not read Tarot cards usually, but when the image from the Tarot comes up in a dream,  I will look at them to get the archetypal understanding and to see how it is in the life of the client. 

In my client’s dream, this Fool is interviewing her. She is just starting her dreams with me and is a young woman whose past helps her focus on this inner work. She is determined not to repeat the patterns from her childhood. Will she take on the job of inner work? She is very enthusiastic.

For my part, to honor my dream of the backbone, I am focusing on my own physical back bone.

Backbone from the dreams

I am in Physical Therapy and they have given me an array of exercises to do that focus on the backbone. I particularly like the ones that squeeze my backbone in some ways. The top half of my body going to the right and the lower half going to the left and so on, feeling a little like the washing machine effect.

I creep across the thick carpet in my attic space that allows me to feel the stretch between the top half of my body and the lower half.  It is a strange feeling to go back to the crawl that I did as a child, if I ever did. Some children skip the crawl stage.

8pm Meditation time at the beach

I do the child pose trying to get my tush down onto my heels. Sometimes I am the length of my hands up from my heels. The physical therapist was not sure she could help me accomplish this. I like the child’s pose as it helps me with that bowing and stretching down, like the Muslims do five times a day, when they pray.

A friend of mine, who walks the streets for an hour before dawn says the following prayer while walking: “Oh God, My God, My Beloved, My hearts delight.” I like to say it when I am in that stretching child’s pose and it has a calming effect on me, connecting me to spirit, the author and giver of my life. Sometimes I manage to be in the stretch before dawn.

Under the beautiful old trees in Purcell Park in Harrisonburg where I did my 8pm meditation for the Leaders of Nations and other pressing concerns.

Prayer makes it easier to ask God to come down through the backbone and to strengthen it and release from it all that needs to be banished.

I try and obey the therapist who says, “pay attention to the hips as you do the exercise. Don’t just flop around.” It is so easy to mindlessly do the exercises. When I pay attention, I hold the hip steady by clenching my muscles, as I stretch. That is strengthening. I duel task her praying and chanting to my timer on my phone.

Sunrise Meditation at the Beach

I try and always ask my self and my clients about what we can do as a result of having the dream. When you pay that kind of loving attention to the dream, by doing something specific, it lets the unconscious know that we are serious about honoring the dreams and the unconscious will take the trouble to be more forthcoming in the next dreams.

I went to the top of the Blue Ridge at Bare Fence to see the Comet – I did not see it at the time but Think it is to the right of the sun among the clouds.

I read the book “Seven Story Mountain” by Thomas Merton. I really enjoyed the good read, and it felt that it helped me notice how I am not in that narrow way and to consider a more serious look at how I can pray and meditate, let go and be of service in the way I was designed to be of service in this life. Love from Rose.

The center of the Labyrinth at ARE at Virginia Beach – a good spot for evening meditation.
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Soul Dreams and Soul Work

We have our five senses that we go by. Then there is the Soul and its senses that go down through us, through our backbones like a sword in the stone. We can learn to carry that energy in the strength of our spirituality, as it is meant to be carried or keep pulling on the locked down sword. It takes discipline and focus and intention to soften the stone up.  

Another king of sword

Do not rely wholly on the five senses, as there are other higher ones that are attributes of the soul, which get us in touch with our own Tree of Life, our sword, our Kundalini.      

The dream world is a sensing sent to us from our soul to get us in touch with our unconscious, a true connection between us and out spirit. The dream world connects us to the Tree of Life. Dreams get us in touch with what we hold in shadow, what is between us and that Tree of Life within us. It is not about what is good or evil. It is about where is the life in the situation that is calling us out. 

As an example, I dream of a puke green bird-dodo on the shoulder of a man, representing someone in authority. I take this dream as a message from the soul to tell me I have a chip on my shoulder.

It is inner male animus energies that are an ugly yellow green, a chip on the shoulder and hard to see as it is on the backside of the shoulder. It is not a true green heart color, but a green associated with bile and vomit.

The splash on the shoulder is big and looks like a hand, when I draw it with one pointing finger. The dream is telling me about the power of the index finger to put my energy toward another in an accusatory way.

It kept me awake one night, not because of the person involved but because I have male energies inside that are easily unseated, thinks it is right and is not humble. I am in my personality and my earthly senses. It is nonsense to listen to this talk in my head.

So this soul dream comes to give me pause again, relating to an issue that trips me up easily. 

Approaching the soul work wth masculine energy

The second dream I wanted to share is about the soul also. In real life I had been talking about doors, and doing some poetry and even some person sent me a note saying, “Open the Door.”

Then the unconscious uses those things that I am flirting around with, the doors to bring me a dream. The unconscious has a message from the soul for me and the unconscious sees a little opening to raise my awareness.

The dream: There is a room with huge open doors, higher than usual and maybe twice the width. I am coming along to the door with a clipboard in my hand and a pen. Inside I see a woman who is all tied up in black netting and without the use of arms and legs. She is crying out really loud and flopping around in a consistent and steady way. I was all set to go in there and speak but the atmosphere is such that I cannot, do not go in. I hear beautiful music filling the room, coming down from above.

I felt this dream was about my soul and that I have tied myself up in such a way as to prevent my soul operating in me that would be for its own joy and my own good. 

I honored this dream by rolling around, flopping on the floor over again and again.

When I thought of the music, the word “Brahms” came to mind. This made me laugh as I had bought a cd at the second hand store and it said something about “Messiah” and without looking at it much I had put it in my player and was repeatedly playing it for some months now. It turned out to be the “Brahms” music.

I have a black netting over the banister near my bed and that was similar to the dream netting. I crocheted it thinking I was making a shawl all made of wool. It seemed to have a mind of its own as it grew and grew. I use it for Halloween at times. I have still to wrap it around me and try rolling in it.

My soul sense of hearing is involved with hearing this Divine Music in my dream. Perceiving the sacred in the situation, not trouncing into the room full of rubbish talk but being able to stand in silence and listen is also an attribute of the soul.

I am meditating twice a day at 8 am and 8 pm. This is another way to connect with my soul energies. It is a way to talk to God, asking for help with our political issues, lack of unity, racial issues, and all the great pandemic issues. My specific prayer in this area is to say “For the Leaders of Nations, especially our own, so that they all reach toward the highest good for all the peoples of the planet.

From the dreams

If we have as much faith as a mustard seed, we could move mountains, like those mountains of chaos above. We just have to ask for help, our souls are listening and will lead us through the lessons we are learning. Join me and we can pray together and for each other, accepting all we find around us and presenting it as needing help from above. Intention is everything.   

Photo taken on New Years day after a little swim – seems a long time ago.

 Love from Rose         

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Who Owes What to Whom?

Moriah the Leprechaun was with a trusty friend, Gympie, known to her for many years. She has often met with her of a morning and gone for walks to keep their old bones limber. This morning Gympie was complaining about her cousin and was incensed with her. Moriah said that she was having trouble with her cousin because of some issues left over from past lives and they were in an intimate relationship with each other to work out the past karma.

Gympie paused as she stared at the beautiful primroses in a huge wheel of creamy yellow flowers in the mossy bank. “She was only meant to stay for a little while, a month or so and now it is four years.”

Moriah said “I rest my case. Fate has a way of pulling things together that need working out.”  

Moriah noted that Gympie’s face became a little red as she bent over to get a primrose and stick it in her mouth. As they both chewed the slightly sweet honeyed flowers Gympie’s color receded. “I do not believe in past life rubbish. “ said Gympie.

Moriah did hold to this doctrine of reincarnation from the east brought to her by her Druidic Beliefs and from Druid Bernie in particular.  He liked to think you could not get away with anything in this life and that every jot and tittle had to be accounted for. If you were harsh on someone, they came back to you to give the harshness back to you, in the next life. 

Moriah’s friend Gympie

Someone turns up on your doorstep and insists that you have nasty high expectations from them that are beating them into a pulp, when you know in your heart you did nothing of the sort to them. However their perception is correct, because you were cruel and unusually harsh to them in the past life. We hold these strings out to each other for a good fight about it all how ever long ago and far away.

There is no end to the variations, whether it is about dishes, teapots, money, land etc.

We can learn in unconsciousness and in pain, having fist fights or shillelagh’s fights and or going to jail for a very slight reason, or we can pause and say that surely I owe something to them from a past life.

Through working with the person, praying privately for the person, and wishing them well, we begin to mend the breach and forge the path between us. We thank them for what they did to us and ask them for forgiveness for what we did to them.

Forgiveness was always available.

Gympie said “Are you trying to tell me that my cousin and I are intimately connected from another time and I have to accept that we have work to do together to resolve the issue, me accepting her accusations, and working with her, not pushing her out, but working together to resolve the issue.

Gympie’s cousin

Moriah and Gympie continued their conversation as they drifted up the avenue beneath the tall hedges trying to meet in the middle above their heads. The small robin redbreast hopped along before them picking at grass ends and foraging for breakfast too.

A huge white looking larvae fell out of the hedge close to where the women were standing. The little bird flew away but then decided to brave the nearness of the leprechauns and darted in and carried the larvae off to the shade of a pine tree, where she doled it out to one of her offspring, who suddenly appeared batting its wings and opening its beak. The baby bird swallowed the larvae whole. Moriah thought of having some eggs for breakfast in that moment.

Wheels of primroses

As they went along, Gympie said she had a mishap at her house, as there was a small hedgehog dead in the grass just a few feet from her door. Her dog and cats went out to smell the decomposed animal, and Gympie felt it as a personal insult to be near this rotting smell. She was glad her dog had not rolled in it before she cleaned it away.

Moriah said it was just a reflection of the vibrations going between her and her live in, represented by this stink in the grass. Gympie got a bit red again, composed herself and said “No, that was just a coincidence.” They were munching little shamrocks of green sorrel by now swallowing the bitter taste, knowing it was good for them.

They both felt refreshed and went their ways at a fast clip back down the lane. Moriah lost some ground to Gympie who was determined to hear no more about Moriah’s opinions about accountability, at least not on that day. The end.

The little birds flew about them.

Dear Readers,

The PayPal Button. If you go to my site, you will see a button to pay me. I put it there so you can email me a dream, work a number of minutes with me over media and pay in this way. A suggested donation is $10 for ten minutes or whatever amount above or below that amount seems right to you. 

I would like to work from home and retire from my regular counseling job. In this way I can devote more time to my area of expertise, which is dreams and drawing.

I also love to write stories like those above and usually have more that come into my brain but leave again as I need a lot of time to do this writing.

I always make time for prayers for you and those who ask for this spiritual support.

Our combined prayers with move mountains especially if we have the faith of a mustard seed. As for me and my house, I am continually referencing the seeds of the mustard and smiling, so much so that I felt them bouncing down from above in my mediations this morning. Love you Rose.

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The River And Little Robin Redbreasts

As sometimes happens I have Saturday to myself and when the river beckons from the mountains in the west, I have little option but to drive out there, past the ice cream parlor and on to Rawley. By the time I got to Rawley, it was down right raining but as I was almost there I went to the little parking lot and figured I would get in the water, as that had been my intention all along.


As I rumbled around for the right swimsuit and shoes in my trunk a young man and woman came down from the rock/steep incline from the left and the woman was smiling like she knew me. I thought she was familiar. 

She had met me at the co-op some months ago and I seem to remember a sunhat and blue dress, a bike with a cart pulled behind. She said I was very helpful with a dream she shared with me.  She said she had a dream a few weeks ago and said she wanted my contact information so she could contact me about her new dream. I was able to unearth a business card from the trunk of my car and give it to her. I am looking forward to hearing from her. Her partner had long black hair and said he could not remember his dreams. 


When the young couple left there was no one to be seen at the watering hole. I ventured in a little bit at first, up to my knees and gradually started to swim against the current, which swiftly turned me around and sent me into shallower water. I enjoyed this back and forth taking a little time each time to get out of the water and walk around a bit until the next time. 

As I leaped in and out of the water I noticed a young longhaired man crossing the stream, where the rocks make a little waterfall and it is not so deep. He looked intent as he went by. He had a knife attached to his belt that was sheathed. When he came back to re-cross, he was carrying a big fork. 


I overcame my anxiety and I asked if he was catching fish, maybe spearing them with this fork. It was two feet long and silvery and sharp pronged.  He said he had caught three trout. I thought of following him blindly but I had eaten heartily earlier and now was on a mission of my own to soak in the water. He too had long black hair and a beautiful smile. 

It turned out to be a beautiful evening full of sunshine and warmth. I was glad to chat with a woman my age that told me a lot of her life story and wanted to know if Jesus was my savior. She felt that any mention of Mary was idolatry and God could be taken over by the devil very easily. She too had a beautiful smile. I laughed as I told her that God wanted her to try the silent thing. She wanted to hug me as she left the beautiful water. 


In the interest of friendship, I choose silence at times and focused on her being a soul just like I am and that I recognize that in the situation. Nameste, I salute the God in you. 

Robin Redbreast

Two robins built a nest in the lilac tree just outside two of my windows. As I go upstairs to the attic I can see them head on, and from the armchair I have placed near the window in my kitchen I have a sideways view. 

When I first noticed them the little chicks were down in the nest and all beak.  When ever they heard a sound they opened the beaks wide for food. The parents flew in at great speed. They fed someone at random and took away a poop in the beak. 

Sometimes they brought tiny morsels I could hardly see and at other times big long looking larvae what vanished down a beak in no time. 

One chick seemed to be growing the fastest. He had no problem standing on the back or head of the others and preening and picking at his feathers all over the body. 

He looked very precarious wobbling about but kept within the nest perimeters. 

When eating breakfast this morning I observed the biggest one was not getting fed. The parent fed the littlest one, then jumped on the back of the smallest one, removed a parcel of poop and flew off, wings spreading in all directions over the nest 


Immediately after, the biggest robbing, extricated herself on to the back of the smaller one and stretched her wings just like the mother did before flying off. I could see that chick thinking, “did you see that?” and “Maybe I can do that too! ” 

Not long after I looked again and all tree little heads were down in the nest again, as if their bravery frightened them and they went back to being newly hatched. One gave a big yawn with the fright of it all. 

When the storm came, I noticed both parents got on the nest and one of them kept her wing stretched out over the side of the nest for more protection. It was sweet to behold. It was windy that time. 


Another time the little ones were left unattended in the rain and one of the chicks picked at the water dropping off a leaf. They learn early and well their life skills. 

They do not worry at all about what is happening all about them. There are crows, cats, fast traffic, weather, wet or windy. They are living life with all their might. They just see opportunity and claiming ability to fly. They are not concerned about their clothes either, other than that preening they do.


Next morning the nest was empty. Two were sitting on my kitchen window ledge and the third on my deck. They were off into the wild blue sky, and me left with an empt nest and a lovely enlivened memory of their business. 


So I will leave you with love and hoping we can be like the lilies of the field and the birds in the air, in touch with our instincts and claiming all we came here to do. Love from Rose.

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Call to Prayer at Eights AM and PM

The Little Froggie Story

The old outdoor shower attached to the house near the beach, had two layers of boards underfoot and sand below. I was given fair warning not to bring sand into the house, so I obediently went into the old outside shower. I considered wiping off the sand in there. But it was a windy evening and where ever the sand could go it had gone and my hair had become a massive repository of the golden granules.

I turned on the tap and it was cold, but cold and I can agree for a little while and it was somewhat ok. Then I looked for the hot tap and the water was soon much too hot.

A little gentle jump caught my eye in the right hand corner of the shower. A one inch high frog was in my shower, blending in, brown on brown, almost not there, except for the gentle jump out of the hot water.

The frog put its head into the space between the boards and its little “hiney” was in the air.

A falcon with a fish in its claws

When I got the water adjusted to the right temperature, the frog came back up again and sat in the rain of the shower, right side up.

I smiled as I watched and washed.

When I finished getting that dune of sand off my scalp and was squeezing my hair with both my hands, I leaned a little toward the frog so he would get the benefit of those extra few drops even though the shower was now turned off.

The frog glanced up at me, with a minuscule adjustment of its head. I felt acknowledged and I said “hi.” I laughed gently to myself. I slowed down and took advantage of the small miracle at my feet, watching the way the rain in my shower fell slow and free and the calmness of the frog claimed me.

I did not think to kiss the frog in that moment but I could have.

Bayside inlet

I think I was infected by the frog’s good feelings about the warm rain falling on him.

I can see now why poems and fairytales are written about them.

“Twenty frogies went to school, down beside a rushy pool…” comes to my mind unbidden, complete with the image of the frogs in little green coats sitting on green leaves on their pond.

There were often frogs about in the cool damp banks beside our avenue in Ireland and I grew up without any fear of the frogs. My siblings and I chased them trying to catch them before they jumped out of reach again. We placed them in the palm of one hand and the other cupped over as they made jumping motions.

Like the frog, there is some heat I might want to avoid in my life and I would want to put my head in the sand. However, it is always best if I sit up and look about and in that way catch the gentle rain falling from heaven when it does fall, slowing down to become gentle with myself.

Meditation and Prayer

While at the beach I found a little notebook I wrote in this time last year at the beach. It was fun to read. I wrote a little something about Buddha.

“Buddha knew what he was doing under the tree. He was draining all of himself and let it go into the winter sleep of the ground. He waited then for that gathering of sappy energy into a huge ball below the tree, waiting for that rush up the tree that he knew would carry him up into ecstasy. He was in the basket of the Divine Mother. The tree sprouted leaves, flowers and fruit one hundred fold and Buddha became enlightened giving out the fruits of the spirit to us all and even does still for those who seek.”

Just to think we have everything inside us we could ever need, we just have to be silent, slowly going back to claim our souls. I am seeing a cross of light, with the upright going down the body and through the back bone and the vertical going out through the arms.

Many people pay attention to the breath coming up the body over the head and down the body in the front. The chakras are electrified in this loop.

From the dreams

Currently I am inviting people to join me in meditation twice a day, at 8am and 8pm for twenty minutes more of less, so we can be in that happiness and we are blessing and are blessed. This was inspired by the need to pray for our country, for unity, for our law enforcement, our health concerns with the virus, our dying and dead. We can include our own concerns at this time also. The whole world can be included, no exceptions.

From the dreams

Keeping the time for meditation straight is getting easier and sometimes something will remind me. I look at my phone and it says it is 8.01. You know how to set alarms and I know you know a lot about prayer already. Each to his own is very acceptable at this time of sacrificing our time for the others, praying for them.

Mantras, as in Rosary is magnificent prayer to the Divine Mother, which my personal mother could never get enough of. I was once told that I said so many “Ave Marias” in a past life, that my soul was continuously saying them still. I hope this is true. A camper, at the Edgar Cayce Summer camp told me that she was learning off the psalms and putting her favorites to music. I still remember her face and bright eyes, thirty years later.

“ All is one, one is all, there is only one” is one of my personal favorites., that came to me following a meditation, while staying in a motel in Cleveland Ohio attending a Mari Conference.  

Sand in the hair

I also love the Aquarian Sadhana chants and of course “Sweet Heart of Jesus” in whose heart there is room for all expressions of prayer toward God, especially the prayers that come through your own heart, regardless of faith orientation. Get started and more will be given you from within.

Love from Rose. 

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Are You OK Then

“Are you ok then?” one of my teachers asks. Luckily that morning I had something to report. 

How are you feeling then?

It all goes back to Bible Study and the words that God will answer your prayers, in ways everlasting rather on our terms. St Paul said he asked God trice to heal his infirmity but God said he had to leave it there to keep Paul humble. Paul seemed delighted with himself reporting on this issue. 

Then there was the assertion that God knows what you have need of before you even ask. “I know the plans I have for you…” 

I know the plans I have for you.

I completed my morning Aquarian Sadhana and I was transitioning to my little block of silent meditation. I was referencing God in the higher chakras and thought of this God knowing what I have need of relating to leg issues and I felt a wave of something coming down through my body from above. It was slight but noticeable and it came with the thought of “God knows what I have need of.”   

The huge difference in all of this is that I usually think I have to figure out how to heal myself all the time. This keeps me running around in circles, from exercises to massages, from food choices to scalding baths. 

There is the circling energy everywhere in the universe as well as inside us in our chakras.

What a relief to think I do not have to mindlessly do a load of things by rote.

I have to let this energy of God come down through me and have its way with me. This is different from the way I try and get a hold on this stick of God and beat myself into shape with it. My new mantra for today is God wants to help and heal me. No more to be said. And today is the acceptable time.  

Is there something else to be done? I had planned on oatmeal boiled up with a load of dates for breakfast. I could feel those soft mushy dates almost getting stuck on the roof of my mouth. Then as I started to make this breakfast my eyes lit on the plastic see through jar of corn grits and I had to change my greedy plan and have a savory breakfast.       

What will we have for breakfast?

It is Saturday morning and I was finishing up on taking atomodine in certain quantities in the morning following suggestions from the Edgar Cayce readings relating to arthritis. I had decided on the three-drop regimen. Then two mornings ago I realized that I had to put five drops into my cup accidently. The Edgar Cayce readings have a great spectrum of suggestions and it is hard to decide which one will work for you. I felt that accidental five drops was a way for me to change to what might suit me better. 

Directions given to you by using the intuitive muscle brings you to know for yourself. The above is an example of me trying to be intuitive about how to work with the help God wants to give me on a daily basis. 

This little round fat cactus is full of circles.

In my practice I am working with teens again. I forgot the pure need to be creative with them, especially over telehealth. One told me a dream or rather could not tell me a dream but said something awful was going to happen in her dream.  

For me, any suggestion of a dream makes me happy to hear. “Were there people in the dream?” I ask. “Yes two people” she said.  “Draw them,” I said. She immediately complied.  My homework to her was to develop a conversation between these dream figures and we may get an answer to her feelings of dread both inside and outside the dream world. And if she does not get to do this I can still work with those images that came from her unconscious, in our next session. 

From the dreams

And there are the parents whose support I rely on all the time. They are wonderful people. Sometimes I want to tell my office manager “no more teens for me.”  I have been working with teens on and off since starting my counseling career nearly twenty years ago. I did teen groups in the Children’s McNulty Center working with teen that were court ordered to anger management classes and I also worked with teens and parents in a court ordered group. 

I also worked in Prevention Work in Schools, mostly High Schools, at the beginning of my counseling career. 

My boss

I got some serious training from my bosses and the sheer number of groups I did gives me a comfort working with young people. 

Maybe God thinks this is what I have need of “to prosper and not harm me.”  Healing will come through me in their direction, and it will even flow back my way as I do what I love best. Sometimes the Shenandoah river flows backwards in times of flood.

And what of the dreams? I had a strong one about the person I was working with in a forgiveness prayer highlighting my fears about setting boundaries. 

My problematic inner male energy.

I did a forty-day forgiveness prayer, which could be done over forty minutes, forty days or forty hours. I choose the forty hours. My phone obliged as I got started, ringing a little bell every hour on the hour.  I had to do it through one night, and am not sure if I got all the hours covered. I mumbled the six lines many times as I turned and twisted in my bed. 

It was a strong experience. The forgiveness prayer has you pray to the person and to yourself. There is a thankfulness line for all we did for each other and a forgiveness line to each other for all we done to each other. I felt some fog lift from over me and it helped me solve the problem that I was having, from my point of view. 

Even with forgiveness prayers, we have to remember we are not in charge of the other person in any way. It just became clear what I would have to do and I acknowledged the soul residing in the other person also.

I wish I was at the river now and may still drop into water yet this evening.

Love from Rose. 

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If I Want Your Opinion ….

The dream went like this: I am with a couple I know and the woman’s name is my name, Rose. The man of that couple says something and I say “If I want your opinion I will give it to you!” We all laugh heartily at this and I notice that the man touched that part of my leg where I have pain, just under the knee in the outside right. 

From the dream – watercolor by the river.

The above pain was one of the first indications that my leg was turning in a way that was painful. I did not recognize it at the time. Some years have gone by since I noticed that. The connection between some twists in the body and those in the mind is a matter of opinion.

Yesterday I asked my sister in England about something that was troubling me but was not moved to change my opinion. “Do not bother doing that as nothing will change” she said.

we often ask our family members for advice – their overall view is valued

My old friend with whom I discussed my dreams in the nineties would say that I had a strong negative animus, opinion, inner male and in this case I am making fun of the opinion of the male. The Jungian slant would be that a woman gets her opinions from her father and at some point the woman will have to abandon those opinions, in favor of a more nurturing way of treating herself and others. The dream gives me pause. 

They all had a good laugh

Also the last blog had a number of my opinions relating to another’s dream. I did not sit and discuss all that with him so I am wondering if all those opinions of mine are not so helpful. I am challenging my own opinions here with this new dream. I will do some drawings down at the river as it is a lovely day again and a dip or two into the water is in order. Seeing through a glass darkly or face to face would be helpful. 

At the River

A good rock: to sit and to paint by the river

Of course many things happen at the river. The river is much higher than last time, as much rain fell and filled it into a fast magnificent flow. We were able to get into the water at the swimming hole and be swung around into the shallow stones. I went in with my walking sticks and was pushed over when I squatted. I enjoyed the submergence, as I had been trying to do that for the last hour. Two lovely people ran to my rescue and I submitted to the help. I did get in again and got my head under so that I would have a good baptism.

Trying to warm up after a dip in the water

As I was standing in knee deep water I spoke to a woman who had much grief ten year ago when her two-month-old baby died. Other family members died near that time belonging to her husband. There was great chaos. 

She told me the dream of the rainbow socks where she was sitting apposite a recently deceased twelve year old in-law girl who put the “souls” of her feet to hers and she felt she was connecting to the soul of her deceased two month old baby.

Mandala Rainbow

 I just love the way dreams span the divide between the living and the dead. We also talked about how this baby changed her completely and while wildly broken was able to knit herself together in a new way. The woman stood in the water and I helped put some water on her head. This is something I often do instead of dropping down into the water over my head. We were both refreshed by our respective dips. 

Swimming at Blue Hole a few weeks ago

In my practice I was given another dream of a woman’s feet being covered in sticky stuff and I asked her to bath her feet in hot water each evening as she contemplated release from the sticky stuff in her life. Finding a ritual to coincide with a dream is a good way of loving yourself. 

Before the storm showed up – back yard view

On Friday evening I got it in my head to deliver my taxes to the City as I awaited a great storm to land. The sky was low and full of dark clouds and four buzzards floated, black against that navy blue,  in the rising air and were lovely to watch. 

When I went to deliver my taxes, there was a big car there and a woman in the driver seat putting together a check to pay her taxes. I went around her car to drop my taxes off in the drop box and she apologized. 

They were still trying to make sense of everything that happened to them

We bemoaned the fact that the only sure things in life are “death and taxes.” She talked to me of her mother’s death ten years ago and how she is still paying taxes on her house, even as it leaks and is filled with her mother’s things.  And then she told me of the murder death of her son. She has never slept in her bed since that time. Hopefully my wish to be helpful to her is enough to ease her heart. She told me she loves to talk on the phone for two hours with her customers about her life and their lives and that satisfies her now. The storm blew over. 

A dream is like a blue jug in the middle of everything. It needs to be poured out. It is in the pouring out that the miracle happens.

She remembered talking to me before and I remembered her smile and her face in some way too. She remembered I was wearing a big coat. 

This rock looks like a great big jug in the river

Sitting around in and near the river for a few hours showed me that the water finds it’s way between the stones and I have to find the way between what is stony in my life. That which is flowing fast past me will round me off, so that I am different by reason of the decisions I make. As for those opinions of mine, hopefully I will keep reaching past them into the flow that will carry me between the stones in my life.  Sending out a prayer for you. Love from Rose.

The evening of this picture the water was lower.


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