Leprechaun trying to be Funny

 

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The overfull trashcan

Mariah made a list for herself and Uishneach to clean up the place before bedtime, before the pismires took over their humble abode. Food items needed to be put away, covered up completely and all waste foods put out in the mitten always from the house. The cat was eager to keep the rodents under control but keeping those pismires at bay was another job altogether. The surprise of being crawled on, lightly stung when nearly asleep was not conducive to a good nights rest.

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Cleaning up

Mariah and Uishneach had an arrangement with the dwarves to pick up their big trash at their house at certain times of the year. They liked to come when there was a full moon and had a number of rules of their own about how trash was to be presented to them. The items could not be put in a container that was too big.  Mariah had to supervise Uishneach’s efforts at guessing when the trash went out and in what receptacle. She had one trashcan that was very large, and it always looked so inviting to be filled to the brim. Then Mariah would have to pull it all out and the trash would be a big pile, dumped until the next month, when the bins would be empty and refilled again.

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The moon was shining

When the over large bin was out, the dwarves would start picking it up but then throw it down again and go into a long burbling conversation in their own language, about the size of the bin. They might argue and walk around it, feel the weight but ultimately not take it at all. Uishneach would take it personally. Mariah would encourage him to notice which bin was too large for the Dwarves. Nobody wanted to be cursed by them.

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The trash cans

 

 

 

The Dwarves had rules also about how big or small the trash could be. Some could be only one foot long and had to be tided in bundles. Other stuff had to be in small pieces, depending on what the dwarves did with it. Uishneach said that some of it went down the mines and he was not happy about that as it interfered with his looking for gold. Nobody liked walking around knee-deep in the dark in their own trash.

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In the mines

Mariah was happy that the last lot successfully went out on schedule and there was cleanness about that satisfied her. The night before the pickup the Druid Bernie had come by with his little bundle of trash and they had sat out in the moonlight in a chat room created by the hedges. They got to talking about dreams and she asked him how could she know if she was interpreting correctly. He asked if she was grumpy all the time and she said yes, he knew she was. He said that was a sign she was not interpreting correctly.

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A little grumpy

She said she had to be right, she had to be a bit grumpy or the trash would never go out and the place would never get cleaned up. Was it possible for her to have more patience, longsuffering, love for Uishneach, the Druid asked? She was not sure she could go there all the time. Maybe sometimes she could manage it after all the trash was picked up. Well, the Druid Bernie said, “Do you want to be right, or do you want to be happy?”She said that she knew she was right and that made her happy.

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Happy and right, Right and happy

She liked to get her own way, usually by frowning, by anger. The Druid thought she should go for more laughter or she would become the long faced leprechaun. Giving and loving were the needed spirits to ensure the dreams were strong and helpful. If she could not love Uishneach, she could not hope to be able to have an open heart, which would give her dreams to help her.

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She liked to get her own way

She told him a dream of going along with a younger man. He was dressed up for the night in black suit and white shirt, very formal. He wanted six hundred pieces to go and celebrate the night. Mariah wanted to give it to him on condition he promised to pay it back to her. He made no such promise and the dream seemed to go on in this tug of war all night. She noted that she had asked for a dream about her painful right hip and leg, which she was working on.

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Her hip-joint

The Druid Bernie lit his pipe and the smoke rings rose in the night air. He mumbled the word “pay back” from her dream and said she was refusing to see that her illness was related to karma, that she had to pay back for something related to coin in a past life. The male aspect of her was selfish and had been busy enjoying himself, refusing to look at how the leg is connected to pay back, for a karmic situation in a past life. Ignoring a creeping leg pain for years was an achievement by her partying male self.

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A little trickery

She decided to trick the druid. She knew how he loved his tea a certain way and she decided that when he asked for the second cup she would put the sour bitter crystal into it instead of the sweetness. She saw him raise the cup to his puckered lips, lined, a little overly red from sunshine. Then he exploded the liquid out into the night air.

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Blowing it out in all directions.

“Is that funny enough for you?” she asked. She fell down laughing. He was not amused and stood up to leave, whistling for his hedgehogs. They all marched off with their spines and noses in the air. When Uishneach came home he said the Druid seemed to be in a huff.

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Uishneach greeting Mariah

She felt a little sorry for what she did and resolved to try to bring love and service into her home, making it more comfortable, better food but above all looking for ways to be patient about the trash. She hoped that the next dream would be a follow-up especially if she did a drawing for the Druid of the whole business. She knew that would please him. The end.

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From the dreams

If you like my story above be sure to comment and or like below. I look forward to hearing from you. I pray for you and you can pray for me on a regular basis. Praying and meditation go hand in hand with dreams that are determined to bring in more consciousness. That is the place of not pretending. Love from Rose.

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The Lovely Birds

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The blue dress

Rose has a new boss, an executive director at the Center for Marriage and Family Counseling. She put him on the spot and asked him for a dream when introductions were happening. While his blue eyes pondered, the group laughed at Rose’s audacity to ask such a question. He said he would think about that.  Many years ago when Rose was starting work in the Community Services Board, she had a dream of finding a marvelous blue dress in a secret place near her office. It helped her settle and know she was at the right place and at the right time. It was a marvelous place to counsel twenty people a week, from all walks of life for years. She often worked with many more people a day, through doing group session, up to five a week. Good times.

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New bosses, old bosses or Rose’s shadow boss

As she sat eating her fare on her front porch, a bird landed in a tree near her and continued in a loud raucous never-ending call. She threw her eating utensil that landed in the grass nearby. The bird looked down, checking it out for food, but did not move. Rose ran over to the tree and shook the tree before it went away. Its loud squawk could be heard for a little while longer in the distance. Later, she saw a lean white cat with a ringed dark tail crouched to pounce on this bird. She ran out to stop the cat in his tracks. The cat was lean and young and his muscles could be seen through his fur. She does not like to see the cat eating up the birds, even a loud one. She immediately developed a little empathy for the bird, figuring out that the squawk was related to the cat being nearby.

When travelling to a meeting, Rose saw two doves on the road courting. They were catty corner to each other. They were not on her side of the road but on the lane on which traffic was coming toward her.  She knew by the speed of the red van and the birds disregard for that vehicle,  that this would not be a happy outcome.  She thinks that she saw one bird rise at the last minute. The other was left a pile of feathers; some blowing in the wind already after the van was passed. She wished she had not seen this at all. It made her think of her own relationships and the tenuousness of life. Perhaps she could be little kinder to her own mate?

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Rose and her mate not facing each other sometimes

In her previous house, in Belmont, she had a sunroom with much window space, crowded around with a pinoak and evergreens. Both her youngest and oldest children came in contact with sudden death through doves hitting the window at full speed and being killed from the impact.

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Where the moon is near as the sun come peeping our in the morning.

At that time there was a couple of doves making a nest in the nearby bushes. They were easily observed from the upstairs window as they walked about on the sunroom roof, flirting and loving on each other. They were much enjoyed until one crashed into window and died from impact. After that, the blinds were shut down against such pain and misfortune and to let the birds know not to fly through plate glass. The dove mate hung around for a long time on his/her own, where the partner was lost. The other dove that was killed on impact inspired a poem Rose wrote as Rose observed her child deal with the death of the dove. The ten year old wrote in her diary all the while feeling her neck with her free hand. Rose looked for the poem in an old poem binder, where she found many old poems by others when she attended poetry group in the 1990s. Her own poem about the dove has vanished into the guts of some long lost dead computer.

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Writing in the diary, bring watched by the mother

On the other side of the life cycle, Rose was able to observe a couple of doves hatch out two eggs in a nest below her window, a green bush that brought the nest close to where she looked out on the second floor. It was lovely to watch the eggs being laid, the little ones come out and be fed and to see the mother bring them to flight. One morning Rose looked down and they were gone. She thought the worst but on closer inspection, the two hatchlings were sitting on a branch a few feet from the nest. They were too big for the nest but not ready to get going yet.

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Rose watching the birds.

If you have outgrown the nest you find yourself in, it is a good time to get going with recording your dreams. This can be easily achieved by placing a pen and journal near you on the bedside table.  Rose always drink lots of water before going to sleep as she neglect drinking it during the day. She makes a suggestion to myself to remember a dream, no small remembrance, and then when the water wakes her up for a bathroom call, she  can look for a dream in the night. Her dreaming has been quiet in spite of reading a book on dreams. Rose will persist and as the moon gets fuller and as she makes suggestions before sleep to remember a dream,  she is sure she will be gifted by another dream soon. In the mean time she is drawing some mandalas to cope with her feelings.

Not all dreams carry profound meaning, but many do, so when you have gathered up a few dreams be sure to commit them to paper and to bring them my way. Dreams will work well with your intuition, congratulate you when you are making the right decisions and admonish you when you are making an ass of yourself. I have had many of all of the above. I am a dream specialist trained in the counseling field and am a Licensed Professional Counselor. I practice in Harrisonburg Virginia. I am on the Psychology Today site for more contact information. You can also contact me through your comment below. I love to hear if you liked the above or otherwise. I look forward to hearing from you. Love from Rose

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Leprechaun Relationship

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She was sitting there in the sunshine, near the beach. She had made the annual pilgrimage to the water to get some carrageen moss, to feel the sea breezes and enjoy the August sunshine. The ocean was at its warmest, lapped about by the Gulf Stream as it came near to the coast, warming it into mild weather even through the winter. Her favorite seaweed proliferates there on the rocks near the water. She learned from her mother how to clean and steep it and place it in milk to be slowly boiled. It was lovely with a few berries on top and it set into a jelly, if left in a cool place. Sometimes Mariah just chewed on a little bit here and there for its nourishment. She learned to do this from the druid who carried it in his pockets.

 

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Like the amaryllis, she and Uishneach got along better when looking in their own different directions.

She was having a hard time with Uishneach being home. She felt she could eat him alive for any little infraction. The druid, who also was at the beach, had told her to avoid having any outburst and to go in her own place and ask why she wanted to blow up all the time. Sometimes she managed to be civil and things might progress and a nice conversation ensues. However when he started to make fun of her or her friends or impose his politics or religions ideas on them, she did not take it kindly. One friend said “You must love him very much.” When he did it to her sisters, they just up and left with hardly a goodbye.

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Politics and religion had strange effects on people

One night she was showing Uishneach some exercises she learned from an old woman who lived near the ocean. The old woman of the west and Mariah exchanged cures for their current problems and Mariah ended up with an exercise to try and put her heel down into her crotch area, to help with hip and leg pain. She was telling Uishneach about this attempt. She was about twelve inches out from docking.

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The foot

She told him he had to try and put it in his vagina, just as a way of explaining where the heel was headed. He took offence at her suggestion that he had a vagina. It was only as a reference point. Besides his inner woman has a vagina. He then tried to put his heel very close to her nose and mouth. She could smell that feet smell that run in his family. She almost fell out of the sleeping quarters as she pushed against him trying to maintain her place in the bed and avoid the errant heel. She ended up on the floor and the next day with a creek in her neck. She could not stop laughing as soon as she realized she had pushed a little hot button, insulting his manliness. She seemed to find a lot of delight in triggering something in him. The shadow, her shadow may be what came out in that laughter. Her shadow is still laughing.

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Inner men and women look out through our eyes

She found it so hard to do as the Druid said, to focus on her own bad moods, or her insulting mood, even as they were directed at Uishneach. She did not want to be the hardhearted ball breaker of a man inside herself either.  Figuring out Uishneach was a pastime of hers. She learned it from her mother and her grandmother. Her mother told her of the time that she and her mother were out and came across her new husband mending a fence. They stood there. Then he got in a temper and walked off. That was his bad mood she supposed. The two women were still talking about this incident when Mariah was a child. The relationship between her parents was unconscious.

The druid said that if Mariah was in a bad mood then its roots had to be linked to where it came from in her. If he was in a bad mood she could notice it, walk away or address without getting in a mood herself. That would be the healthy thing to do. Her inclination to boss, to analyze and to be right, to laugh at, was painful for him and even if she is remotely right, she has put him off completely. He does the same thing to her but of course she is not in charge of his inner workings.

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Mariah loved her father

Mariah’s father had a tight relationship with his mother, being the child that helped her carry water and wood. He helped her with baking too. Mariah’s sweet mother could never measure up. Mariah loved her father dearly and her Uishneach would never measure up, if she were in that complex of father energy. The view from Uishneach shoulders was never as good as the view from her father’s shoulders. Getting up on her own shoulders for a view of where she was going would be helpful no doubt. The druid said one day he was going to bring a ladder for her to get up on her own shoulders. It sure would make Uishneach feel a lot better. Typical druid instruction. How would she do that? He on his part seemed to find this funny as she saw a twinkle in his blue eyes develop. Other times she felt he was biased toward Uishneach.

Mariah was trying to see, was trying to feel her own inner self, apart from Uishneach. She was trying to agree that her bad mood was her own and was triggered from some complex of energy laid down inside from parents. Her father was quick to criticize her mother. Was it as simple as that? All the criticism in the world came from a never-ending spool placed in there by the relationship between her parents and their parents. This is how relationship is done, you criticize each other. Maybe it was just a piece of the puzzle.

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More ancestors

So instead of yelling at him from her complex, she could get out of it and speak in a civilized tone, accepting his late help to tidy up the place, to prevent an infestation of ants overnight. She could say her prayer; let all my feelings be filled with love; and mean it with her intimate other. Then she could put her hand out and place it in the hand of Uishneach before they drifted off to sleep, asking for the blessing of peace and love to be between them, to swim in that stream of peace and love all through the night. The end.

And if you want to pay attention to your dreams to tease out complexes, to sit in your own stream of love and peace, be sure to call and ask for an appointment. I look forward to hearing from you. Love Rose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Rainbow

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I awoke at 4.30am after about six hours sleep. I knew I was finished sleeping and I settled into my morning routine. I started with some chanting to get myself centered. While doing that, I noticed I was able to get comfortable in my body. Then I went into my Christian oriented prayer/meditation starting with the Our Father and its references to the chakras. By the time I got to praying for others at the end I was profoundly relaxed.

I was not at my own house, staying overnight with my beach compadre. It was after six when I went about getting breakfast and getting my stuff out of my car and into the other driver’s car. It seemed forever before my companion was ready and I had a hard time reigning in my impatience. The rain filled day matched my mood, watering my impatience. Soon we were on our way and the sky opened up over the beach and we left the rain mostly behind us to enjoy three days in the surf. We spent a sunny evening outside, eating out and the next day I got up before dawn to see the sunrise again. There was rain but the sunrise makes it through to give me a rainbow behind me. I was surprised when I saw it there. It was a new again experience for me.

 

I had a dream of the rainbow and I seemed to be explaining to someone we used to think that the rainbow meant  that there will never be a world-wide flood again. But I was maintaining that the promise is an internal one, that I will not be flooded again with everything that cuts me off from spirit, from the knowledge of the fact I am a spiritual being in this lovely earth, for a limited time. There is some glory there to be claimed. We have chakras that correspond to the rainbow colors, and that also part of who we are.

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I heard a dream about the ocean. It is not the first time that the dreamer dreams of a huge wave, or similar threatening images. There is usually some kind of crouching  down and we are not affected by the mighty wave. It is interesting that this wave is so frightening to us yet does not hurt us. I think it represents the rising Kundalini, which frightens the holder of such energy but is not harmful if the person is preparing in the right way with meditation practice, prayer, has a mentor,  and dream study etc. The picture below is of the rising Kundalini. It is an old picture but not very old. I seem to have dragged in the boot of my male side to suppress it. I am looking on with that stupid innocent look on my face, like I do not own the boot. Sometimes it takes a few months to understand your own drawings and interpret them. A dismembered hand or foot has to be reclaimed.

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My lack of attention to attitude has given me lots of hip and leg pain, especially down the back of the leg and below the knee. My companion at the beach wanted the “Old Rose back” who can walk. There are not many people who take the trouble to cry about my condition. I would like the old Rose back also. But I get it, that some aging is happening and it is not always possible to turn back the clock. I took her advice about taking some supplements. I will take my own advice about my attitude. I find this a formidable project.

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exerciser at the beach

I pulled out my old steam cabinet a few weeks ago in the rain and scrubbed it down with baking soda for an hour or two. It is about seven years since I used it , never making use of it here at my new house. It felt so marvelous to sit into the steam laced with witch-hazel the first time and something else the second time. These substances are helpful to the body, as the body can absorb them through the skin. The pores open and there is a cleansing that goes on.

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The steam cabinet

I treated the steam cabinet as a sweat lodge. Some people are afraid of them but I have always attended them over the years. I found them helpful, sometimes feeling ten years younger for a few days, depending on who was leading it. Once an old lady gave around some potions to her disciples (I was not one of hers) and used some herbs on the coals that left me feeling wonderful for those few days afterwards. Everyone was invited to pray or sing and I loved to participate.Yesterday I had to open the door of my personal steamer a few different times to cool off and when I finally finished my heart rate was up a lot and very perceptible. I may have to consider keeping it a little cooler. Maybe a bath of ice water will help nearby.

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This little crab was near where I settled to meditate at the beach. He kept vigil with me watching me all the while. 

And to my friends in the helper professions and to you I ask: Are you ready yet  to give to yourself what you give so readily to others? You deserve to have help looking within to find the truth of the tree of yourself. I will not drink and party with you but I will be able to pull away with you what ever needs weeding so that you can be in the comfort of who you really are and make no apologies for that.

We will look at complexes, shadow, projection, inner man or woman figures, the spirit of who you originally are, your oneness, by looking through the lens of your own dreams. We will draw dreams and mandala, we will laugh, we will become more conscious. I look forward to your comments, your likes, which you can leave below. You can also ask for an appointment time. I will not put your comment on the site if you are making a request for an appointment. You will also find me on Psychology Today where you will see I am a Licenced Professional Counsellor. I look forward to hearing from you, I look forward to working with you. Love from Rose

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Angel of the Morning

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Recent mandala

I had a dream of my deceased mentor friend Maria. I am the go-between, between my friend Eliza, who celebrated her 80th birthday on Saturday, and Maria. Then a deer appears and complains that I am only giving him a cup of tea.

 

So after waking up I try and go backwards into the dream, as I am not long awake yet. I am distracted by the bright yellow light of the morning, which is a spectacular sky that is layered with clouds, tinged with lots of golden yellow. The yellow pervades the room and my yellow curtains take it on.

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The deer complains he only gets a cup of tea. I am in the center with Maria on left and Eliza on my right.

So back to entering the dream, I attempt about 7 times before I get any traction. My mind leads me off in different direction, no longer remembered. I was back in bed. As I began to interact with Maria and my now 80 year old friend, I though I was meeting myself in the future and also meeting my spirit that has gotten out of this body, even further in the future, represented by deceased Maria.

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Water colors on this post are from some years ago when I would try and paint my way through meetings.

I noticed that Maria has white hair and we talk about this. She says it matches her. I see she is wearing beautiful shoes, very elegant, black. Her upper body is clad in something with round black shapes on white maybe and the lower half all black. She was a natty dresser.(A way of working actively with the dream images, is to get yourself to fill in the blanks of the dream.)

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But most of my work focused on the deer, who is complaining that all I give it is a cup of tea. It comes back as the deer of some time ago who has an arrow in its side/leg flank. I am dealing with leg pain myself so it gets my attention. I spent a time having the deer energy enter me, licking the wounds in me, gnawing at some areas. I see someone who I call a potatoe head, not attractive, who wants to help in exchange for something. I realize that I will not work with such energy and go back to invoking the protection and help of the Christ, as now represented with/by the deer.

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At some point after this I go ahead into my meditation practice, and connect with the Christ energies inside and with the Father, through the hightest chackra. This is who I am interested in aligning myself with. This is where the energy comes down through me at the end and I have the choice to send it out for your and yours, for me and mine. This part of my meditation brings me to a close and as I stretch myself out of my long held posture, I fill with warmth, as if I got in my steam cabinet for a time.I finish up with “The Lord is my Shepherd.” “And Angel of the Morning don’t let me walk away.”

 

 

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I went to my poetry group again. There was a poem about transference read and I scribbled a drawing of the reader. I liked his rendition of the whole idea of transference. He noted his past is triggered and is at work as transference in his life.

 

Then I was called within to try and explain to myself what counter-transference is for me. When I perceive someone attacks me, instead of calling the person with transference on what had just happened, I would go into defense mechanism, retreat into a corner thinking that the person was attacking me, when all that had happened was that I become the recipient of that other person’s transference.

That person feels all the usual emotions triggered by something in therapy, blaming me for the emotions they are now confronted with. As they try and deal with the actual insults from childhood, and with how it is tripping them up in the here and now, I am given the blame and if I accept it in the corner of shame, no body is helped.  The transference is helpful, because the person needs to deal with this constipated way of dealing with life. If the therapist sees it and deals kindly with it, calling it fourth, having the person look at their emotion in the crucible of therapy then therapy is doing what it supposed to do.

And if you would like to get started in getting out what constipates you, gets you stuck, I will be happy to work with these transference issues as they arise. I do my own work as I look at what is going down underneath with myself, whether an old wounded animal appears again (without the wound this time) complaining about only being given a cup of tea. I am in a local café, having a fine breakfast myself and am going to draw that deer and see what comes up. The art-work will make it into this. I am calling you in. Do not hesitate. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Oh, you though I was addressing you, my dear, and maybe I am but I am also addressing my dream deer. Love from Rose.

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Oil Drop

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She meditated in her office space getting ready for the day. She invited  or rather got out of the way of something shining down on her and found something to weep about that was stored in her cells, some old and some recent memory storage.  It is so peculiar what we find to weep about. The release felt good as it came at the time of quieting herself. Only after she wept was it left down at the alter. She hopes it will not bother her anymore and if she is tempted to go down that road and get in that hole again, she knows what to do to get out again. There is the promice, “I will bring everything to your rememberance” before the light obliterates it as the stuck memory it is. Stuck because she gave it much growth space in her, watering it with emotions, fears and tears, firing it with energy, airing it with her talk and of course growing it in the earth of her being. She might have to be often in meditation to keep ahead of her memory patterns.

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Rose has a client who told  her of a song that is on her mind all week. The client did not have a dream that week.  They sang some version of it to make it real in the room. This week Rose has been singing in my head “I am going to the Chapel of Love.” The Chapel of Love corresponds to the Pineal gland in the body and in Revelations, it corresponds to the Church of Philadelphia. It is said to be the chackra in the body that is never corrupted by what ever decisions, choices that are made by the person. It is the place out of which the soul climbs after the life is over. It refers to Holy is Thy Name in the Our Father.

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The geranium has put up two blooms and have put out the beginnings of a big bunch of delicate pink flowers and overnight it has put up two more flower heads. Rose is pleased, as if she gave birth to them myself. The earth, water, air and sunshine are all getting together for this flower. There is one little weed growing alongside it in the pot that she like to nibble on as she passes and praises the flowers. She poured some cold coffee water on them about two days ago. Maybe, like Rose, a little coffee was all they needed to be creative, give birth.

Rose has an old friend with whom she has reconnected after twenty years. She gave Rose two bags of books, some Edgar Cayce titles. Her brother collected them for her, because of his precieved desire to fuel her interests,  and she is in her nineties now. There is one book with a big section on dreams edited by Hugh Lynn Cayce called Edgar Cayce on Dreams. Rose found Hugh Lynn’s selections and his explanations easy to read. She was encouraged to see Edgar’s (Hugh Lynn’s father) interpretation and feels she can learn from his spiritual way of interpreting the dreams.

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Dart Vader

Some years ago Rose had a girl tell her that Jesus came to visit in her dream, in blue jeans. She had an active spiritual life that included prayer, meditation and active church affiliation. There is a dream of God coming to visit in above-mentioned book.  The dream God did not let the dreamer away with much and the dreamer became truthful as he realized that God knew him inside out.

I attend a poetry group led by Susan Facknitz, Ph.D at Our Community Place in Harrisonburg. I worked with the prose about a meditation (See Early Morning Meditation) that morphed into the poem below:

 

Early Morning Meditation –

A sideways fan of light

Sandwiched between the Walnut trees

Shines in her eyes

The sun rays rest on her heart

Over all plans and controls.

Mirrors in her the seed of her soul

Into its flight through the branches

Knows what way to go,

What shape to be, to hold the light

The sun blinds her into closed eyes

Into the Son of light, the Son of life

In laughter

Stillness shines down

 

The sun moved higher into other branches

Into her arm bones

And her back, straighter, straighter

In the truth of the tree

The Walnut was so satisfied to be sat under

It threw out all it got around her

In a nutshell

Drops oil into her cup

Rolls down through her

Until she is danced on

by a thousand tiny bird feet

Pushing her back to the womb

Where the original smallest crookedness

is corrected.

 

She watches the oneness of a leaf

Spinning free of the tree

There the tree took her in

Let her feel the roots and the sky

Where the go around is golden

Where the straight is light.

And if you want to work on your dreams, practice meditation daily, have an inner life where one eye looks to your outer world and one to your unconscious, then be sure to call me and start a new journey into your inner space, where the go around is golden and the straight is light.  Love from Rose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Cream of the Leprechauns

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Mariah, the Leprechaun loves to watch her father milking the red white head cow. He always started with pulling a stool from the wall and setting it under him as he approached the cow’s elders, her sacks of milk. He was about 14 inches off the ground and the stool had some hay stuck to the two feet on it. Her father balanced on the stool, leaning it as needed, his head tight against the cows flank. He ran his hands over the teats knocking away any dirt and getting the cow ready to give over the load of milk, no longer destined for her calf but to be shared by the household, for better and worse, for butter and buttermilk, for cream for deserts and for milk for drinking.

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This creamy concoction was poured liberally on porridge also in the mornings. He always said a few unintelligible words, maybe calling the cow’s name, Bessie, as he got ready for this work. As a child Mariah would listen at the cowshed door and hear the milk hit the bottom of the pail in a rhythmic splash up the sides catching air as it fell down into the bottom. The rhythm got faster as the milk flowed and as the up and down motions of her father’s hands settled into the release of milk from the cow.  These sounds, three or four, sang to each other as the pail filled up with the warm sweet creamy milk until it reached the top, where a layer of creamy froth, over an inch thick, settled on the top, waiting for Mariah. She would run her index and middle finger through the top of the pail again and again until she was satisfied, and walked away with a few white smears on her face and clothes. She liked to come and see her father pour a half cup of milk into a lid for the cat to have every morning as a thank you for his efforts at keeping the population of rodents down.

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Now that Mariah is all grown up, she still likes to get into that creamy milk top, but it is not tolerated by the dwarf who now milks the cows under Uishneach’s supervision. She had a dream of scoopong out cream from her dish, going up the side of the dish as Uishneach, talked. In the dream she was able to tune him out completely, no longer hearing a word he said. She fell into a trance of eating and was happy to miss the talk, whatever it happened to be at that time.

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She thought she might run the dream by the Druid Bernie, in case she was missing something. She knew he liked cream himself, and noted that it could splash out the sides of his mouth as he fed himself with gusto, at a recent feast.

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Druid Bernie came down the avenue followed by the hedgehog family. He was carrying a little bunch of leaves, neatly knit into a holder, into which he had put wild strawberries from the nearby banks of the avenue. He offered her some wild strawberries, as he sat and rested his legs on a flat tree stump covered with moss.

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He told her to be the cream of her dream and Mariah launched into “I am the cream, I am so sweet and swirly on her tongue. As soon as I enter her mouth, I become her. I just know that I will have a long life transformed into white fat globlus all over her body. I will have a net work to work with, all over her body.” And what will Mariah get in return the druid asked?  And the cream said in her silky voice, “ I transporte  her back to her childhood,  where cream and honey were her second loves. They blocked out the pains of not getting her own way. It blocked out the world of older siblings, of her mother’s demands for her. She just loved sitting at the table surrounding the honey or squatting beside that bucket using my fingers to have her fill of the foods of the land of milk and honey.” Mariah took a long breath considering what had just been said. Duuid Bernie noted she longed now for those foods and used them in the same way to block out what ever was unpleasant for her in her relationship with Uishneach. She sometimes wanted to live on her own but had not the courage to do this or talk openly with him about what they wanted to achieve together.

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The druid suggested she focus on her own gold of looking for the gold of her life, of identifying that for herself and going about her own business. When would she fill up with the milk of human kindness and use that as the honey and cream that fills her up. It would be much more satisfying than the fat and sugar destined for her hips after a moment on the lips.

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Mariah looked away down the lane and stared at the mother hedgehog who had wandered off. The druid was nodding off and his wild strawberries were at his feet being tackled by the young hedgehogs. Maria had hoped she would be able to bring the wild strawberries home and pour some thick cream onto them with honey and mash them all up with a fork before consuming them. She set off for home picking up some of her own wild strawberries, pondering what the druid said. The end.

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The above photos were taken yesterday above EMU, as the sky was taken over by storm clouds as well as sunshine.

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Rose drawing with her right hand and gathering her pencils up in her left hand.

Rose is doing battle with ants. They seem to have a psychic ability to figure out where she has been with the honey pot, where she left down an errant spoon or a drop of sweet tea, laced with milk and honey. They marshal forces and have a long line of ants carrying away what makes them sing. Rose is torn between wiping them away with a wet sponge followed by vinegar water and keeping the place very very clean everywhere. Her remedy of ant poison makes her feel guilty about the loss of ant life combined with being mostly ineffective. She thinks the ants use the honey to recover from the poison.

And if you want to work with your favorite food that makes you unconscious mostly,  behind which you love to hide, be sure to come and let me know if you want to work with your dreams. They will lead you home and the more you work with them the more they work with you. You can contact me through this site. I look forward to hearing from you. Love from Rose.

 

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