Outpressing of the Spirit

I took the opportunity to breathe deeper, while doing my exercises, outside,  and to think in terms of a dream that I got some months ago, where I was told to breath into five purple “flowers” above my head. The injunction was that this breathing into the place of God, the seventh chackra, above the head yet connected to the head, would make them “more real.” 

I see a violet mist or color above my head, a rainbow color and texture.  When I got the experience, I bolted upright in bed and repeated a few times, “I almost lost that experience.” So real and at the same time fleeting, just beside the door to my conscious mind, which had opened to let me have this experience.  It was from the unconscious and manifested itself to my left and above me, as I looked.

Just a few days after having that dream, I saw a picture of a crosslegged monk, sitting in meditation, and five similar shapes over his head.

While on my travels in 2019 in Greece, I noticed I have a picture of similar shapes on the top of a church. 

I am full of prayers for this out pressing in myself. I noticed my thoughts clicking onto difficult issues and noticing a pain here or there as I exercised. I thought my pains were related to my habit of gnashing my teeth about some people and having a negative outlook on somethings unfolding in my life.

Gnashing teeth a little, taken in a cafe in San Juan, Porto Rico, earlier this year.

I am quick to point out to others to pay attention when they have a dream about false teeth gnashing the thumb bloody, but it is only when I can catch my own gnashing of teeth, that I have a chance of out pressing the spirit in myself. 

The hymn with the words “I am with you through it all… I go before you always, come follow me…” are dancing around in me for a few days. What ever I experience as difficult comes up to be cared for by me. I want to brood and block the flow of energy when I can be opening my heart to all involved, allowing that which is best to flow into the situation. “I am calling you over..” comes to be sung too. 

A little Knee capping from the dreams

So I am dancing in the weeds of buying and selling my house. Fears are many and varied and I will not bore you with details. But I will say it is causing me to let go again and again, to breath more deeply into my flowers. 

From the dreams -a helpful Virgin from a man’s dreams

My sister is traveling in the south of Ireland, close to where my sweet mother had a great vision of the Virgin Mary. 

My mother, felt so loved and so enveloped when the Virgin Mary smiled down at her. She made me come back there, to that little church in County Cork, when I was in my early sixties and we realized the specialness of that vision and it was not to be repeated on demand. 

Pregnant Virgin

This vision, she described, not twelve months before she died, was of “a house came down over me”, “everything fell away” and “The virgin looked into my eyes, with her smiling eyes,  and I felt so loved.” These are the memories I now have of her describing it when she was seventy and again when she was ninety. 

By the time she was ninety four she was a little hunched over, sitting at the side of the bed, blind, with her key board right in front of her where she could play hymns to Mary,  and she described her vision again. I love that she had that experience of the other reality, of her Virgin Mary, and that she had such clear memory, and had words to describe it at the end of her life. 

The Goddess Tara from another Religion. She is said to have seven eyes.

I questioned her about “the house came down over me” words that she repeated, when ninety, with emphasis, aghast that I was not comprehending. I became quite as she explained how the Virgin came close to her, swooped away from her place at the church and with the feeling of a rush of spirit, came into my mother’s near proximity, smiling at her, opening her heart. 

She said the warmth she experienced was visceral and stayed with her for a full year. She tried to explain to a near neighbor on pilgrimage with her and he patronized her and she feared to tell her confessor at the Carmelite Church in Moate.  However, her experience never left her and informed her beyond any knowledge from church or priest. It moved over her subjective knowledge and was given a Reality that did not leave her wanting. 

Finding the key – They may be already on your person – Five keys.

I hope you too can find this other reality in the midst of your meditation and in the midst of difficulties in your life. It is a great gift to be given such visions. I hope your can look into your dreams and appreciate that when your grandmother, in her nineties, shows up with special sparkly red shoes that that too is telling you something special. You have the choice to be a carrier of love, whatever the situations that comes your way. 

George Fowler* and Brother Merton, two Trappist monks, (one ex, one deceased) who spent years in silent meditation, in monasteries, describe situations which blew their realities away and left them changed. Knowing this other reality, that swamped them with love, filling their lives with not just a knowledge of love but with the Reality of Love within them. 

Love from Rose Marie. 

After reading about visions, and having one or two myself and being with my Mother's visions, I want to encourage others. A Reality that has a profound effect on those who have them. I often hear of them in therapy sessions.
From the dreams and a Mandala as well.

*From whose book I got the word “out pressing of the Spirit.”

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The Shadow Index Finger and Light through the Hand

I am at the beach again and on my favorite path near the bay in First Landing State Park. I am riding my bike along and it is a ninety degree day, with people, dogs, babies and bikes all on the same path. 

I am riding a new bike to me, higher off the ground and bigger wheels. I love the ease of changing gears and generally feeling up off the ground and speeding along. It may be doubtful that it is a good idea for me to ride it but I have no doubt about how I feel on this bike. 

The bike wheel did not fall off but got a bit squeky

I am watching and slowing down at a particular corner where there is a bench and more open  path. However a big shaggy dog is there with its owner calling to it “Reilly” to get him back to the owner. He is off the leash. He sees me and starts wriggling his whole body in anticipation of meeting me. I do not like getting down off the bike as it is an effort to get back up. However this dog is oblivious to his master and runs straight at me and at the last moment puts his whole body in my way. I jump down, stay upright and the wheel flips to one side. 

My reaction to all this is to yell at the owner about keeping the dog on its leash. “what is the matter with you, it is not Riley’s fault, it is your fault. I am a 70 year old woman and do not like being stopped suddenly.” She gets the dog under control. She said it was a very hot day 90° and she just let the dog out for a moment to get into the water.” 

The dog not on a leash

The dog has a long shaggy coat and must’ve been very hot. However I am frightened, had a fear of having a fall. I do not say any thing else but noticed that my front mud guard is now rubbing  in a noisy way, a little high pitched squeal togo with my squealing at Riley’s owner.

As she walks on she shouts back at me “Happy Christmas, happy Easter and bless your little heart” and her words had a certain unpleasant squeal too.

A rendition of my “Little Heart.”

I notice a man standing nearby with his eyes closed down toward his small son who is just knee-high to him. The boy is a little wide eyed looking around. My face gets red as I write this paragraph. I have some shame for shouting in front of the little boy. 

I feel the shame of lashing out at Riley’s owner because they had no intention of hurting me and somehow my not reading the situation and not being willing to get down off the bike more quickly did put me in a shaky situation.

A little bit of a red face.

I am surprised and in wonderment at myself that here I am trying to love my neighbor as myself and this is what I do. When I recounted the story to someone else, they wondered if I was at risk of getting in a fight. I have never thought of that but probably yes, especially if I had reacted to the comments and the “bless your heart words”in particular.

As I went on my way further out towards the bay under the watchful eyes of falcons in high nests, the whole incident is playing in my mind and I wonder how I could’ve done better. I reasoned about the fact that she had no intention of hurting me, that I was not under threat of any kind and that she was just trying care of cooling off her big shaggy dog.

This led me to start praying for Riley and the mother of Riley and as soon as I had done my first prayer I felt my stomach release like something was letting go that had been totally tightened up and tightened in. Nice to feel that letting go and realized that the prayer was the thing that is helpful to me.

Shouting almost got her in a fight.

In my last blog about Moriah and Springtime, I mentioned the devil taking a pound of flesh. I had some misgivings about these ideas from my religious background. And also mentioned by Shakespeare in one of his plays. I remember the delicacy and the terrible feeling I had in the play when someone was ordered to give a pound of flesh for something they did.Would there be some pound of flesh here to be paid?

 I went to the beach later and there was a gentleman shoveling the sand off the path that led up and over onto the beach. He said he was doing his civic duty and we had some friendly talk about his ancestors being from Scotland. The next day in the same place I am getting on my bike and my foot catches on the path and the bike falls to the right and I fall to the left. There are some ridge marks on my leg and I feel a thump on the ribs but very little after effect.

All fall down

I get up and go my way but wonder if that fall was the pound of flesh for my efforts to pray for the woman and squash my perseveration about what she had done. That I needed to fall down is one thing but my attitude to the falling down is another. While I have some pain I won’t be suffering from it because I repeatedly let it go by praying for all concerned, myself included.

My index finger on the right hand is refusing to bend up all the way toward the palm. This is something very new and I now have this idea that the right finger is used for pointing at people in accusation. “Look she did the wrong thing, she let her dog off the leash.” There is another way to use the hand which is to turn it over and open my hand out and allow the light to go through my hand to go to the person, acknowledging the light in them. Namaste. Love from Rose Marie.

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Moriah Celebrates Springtime

Moriah and Druid Bernie were going to have some afternoon chat to celebrate the fine weather and the spring time. Moriah thought she could hear the sap climbing up the tree where she had put her arrangements out at the back of her house. She knew the green buds on the tall tree would be out in no time and the tiny new birds would be hatched out too.

Last year a fledgling  robin flew into the side of her head when she had startled it with her presence near by. The bird startled her too and she was thankful for the scattering it brought. She hoped she could be lifted up with the sap, hear its rushing, this year again, if only for a few seconds. 

When the Robin flew into the side of her head scattering her.

When she saw Druid Bernie coming down the lane in his great one piece robe, made on a loom by the dwarves, she was delighted. When he gave a low whistle, the mother hedge hog came out of the bank on the side of the avenue. The banks were covered with primroses, pale round yellow wheels surrounded with early spring greens.

The mother hedgehog rounded in front of him. She had three babies who stood and stared. Bernie found some dried berries in his pocket and gave them to the mother hedge hog who shared them with her babies. After talking to them all he pulled himself up and came on down the lane to Moriah’s house. He had a new walking stick but was moving just fine.

An old dead tree still has its place

The water pot was hopping on the fire ready to make tea,  and her fire was finishing off cooking her latest fare full of the last of the apples and dried blackberries and honey, eggs and cream. It was no time after greeting each other, that they were ear deep in the drooling sweetness.  

He pulled out his pipe and filled it. He had a little wooden pipe and she had one with a little hole in the side to let air in to burn the better with. They let the effect of the smoke wander over their full stomachs and empty brains. Now they were ready to talk. 

Cleaning up the emotions and moods

They talked about emotions and about moods and thinking. Bernie said that she had to realize that the thinking affected her emotions and mood and that she could control the thinking, reason with it, if she put her mind to it. 

Bernie brought up some old dreams she had shared with him in the past about horses. He said that sometimes her thinking acted as unbridled horses and appeared in her dreams as horses that came up stairs or horses in the barn that had evil intentions toward her. At the time  she never though that she was responsible for the mad horses. Now he thought she might be ready to consider her part in the wild horse dreams. Wake herself up a bit.

Many animals appear in dreams

He told her to make sure and get out of the way when a group of the horses came barreling down the street that would cooly run her over. He said she was releasing some mad emotions and it is best to get out of the way of intense feelings that are overwhelming. She could ask for the divine spirit to help her and know she would be helped and that the intense feelings would go away given a little awareness. Breath out and breath out some more, he told her. 

Othere dream horses

If that did not work she could go to a healing ceremony, stand in the middle and let the druids spin the black thorn sticks above her head until she could hear their whir and fall into that sound of healing that came after some time of spinning in the middle.  He was not sure she would need that but said he could arrange it if needed. 

Message from a horse of another color

He said that one never knows when one has stirred up a hornet’s nest inside by making a strong prayer to change from the same old same old to something higher. She had pledged her energies to helping others, by making more pure dream interpretation and she had pledged more kindness in her relationships. 

When she kicked out those opposing intense feelings it was the devil taking a pound of flesh on the way out that stirred up some illness, pain or accident. She should not be too surprised if she bumped herself in some way. It was just a reminder that the unconscious was adjusting to what she had pledged and more intentional releasing was needed. Breathing out such negative emotions would help again.

Chasing out – looking for a pound of flesh

Druid Bernie said that the important thing for her is to prevent that old boy from saddling back in on her old established patterns. If she let the same old emotions and black moods back in it would be seven times harder to start again.  

Moriah was not sure she could see any more of this and felt her eyelids drooping and her mind wandering. She went with it and was soon fast asleep. 

The three dreams

She had three dreams and when she woke up the Druid had completed three interweaving circles and in each circle he put the main image from her three dreams. Then he got up and said it was up to her to find where they intersected and especially to find that center in herself that was the center of the tree dream circles. 

He said he hoped she would not stay too much above in the trees with the sap, but come down where her dreams were leading her. 

And with that he was gone again. She always felt some pangs of loneliness at his retreating back but was soon looking into his circles. She hoped the wind would not blow the dust away and prevent her from figuring it all out. She would be sure to ask him about it on his next visit and she pulled out some paper and began making her own circles. How she loved to do that. 

The end. 

Love from Rose, Happy dreaming and happy figuring out, finding the answers within you.

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Let the dream interpret you. 

Instead of interpreting the dream, let the dream interpret you. 

I dreamed that I was on the rail line between Dublin City and Howth and I got off in Sutton and set off walking on that patch of land that goes out to Howth Harbor. In the dream I was wondering whether to walk the road, well-trafficked, or to make my way onto the beach and walk to Howth through rocks and sandy beach. 

Rocks leading up to a doorway in Wolfe Street in Harrisonburg

I reenter the dream. 

Active Imagination

I get off the train and use the stairs to get on to the bridge above the railway line. From there I have access to the beach. I see that the tide is in and I have to walk on some black rocks.The water comes up to my knees at one place.  I am thinking about the idea of past lives and how that might be part of who I am. I leave that thought to concentrate on not falling into the water, as I carry my shoes and bag, empty now of lunch contents, three apples and cottage cheese. As the beach widened I walk up along the sand.

It is early November and the Irish Sea is warm still after a lovely summer. The water is mostly glassy with a few ripples near the shore as the tide recedes again. 

Sandy Beach in Porto Rico

I am tired after a long day, walking on my platform shoes and working my office job.

I go into the water up to my waist. I think of the idea of walking on water and put my foot up on the water to see if I get any leverage. I fall forward on my face wetting my hair and not being able to swim. 

African American Teens from the Dreams

I exhaust myself a bit more but am enlivened by the water and the sunny evening. When I come back to the beach I spread out my coat and lie on it. Now warm in my clothes, I am soon fast asleep. And in this sleep this dream did come…I dream…

I am again walking up the beach 

Other Dream Figures

I see a figure, who seemed to come out of nowhere, in a robe of blue and white stripes. He is sitting on a make shift chair made of some sticks and canvas loosely slung together. He is sitting at a fire on the beach. He pushes a piece of wood with his foot as he invited me to sit myself at the fire.

Still Waters in the evening time on Shenandoah River, near Port Republic.

I am surprised at the offer to walk on the still blue water. The sun was setting, as we tried out our steps on the water, now changing colors to gold and reflecting many colors from a heavenly sky. We circled as I glanced out to Ireland’s Eye seeing that knob of land so near, so green, so beautiful. From there we flew to the island and walked the rocky path to the highest point. The waxing moon had found its place in the sky. This was a take off place for many destinations.  

Mandala Representation of IRELAND’S EYE

When we came back a fisherman greeted us warmly, as we left our dance. He gave us a parcel. This was some of the best tasting food I ever had. The drink was of a marvelous taste. 

WATER AND ROCKS IN PORTO RICO National Park

I was awoken from this dream by a blue bottle fly trying to get in my open mouth. I sat up and rubbed by eyes and looked around. Distracted by the blue bottle I almost forgot my dream. I paused and began to back track through the dream. Did I really fly out over Ireland’s eye and see the moon rising over it? Was the moon a little dusty as I landed on it and who was that wonderful person that seemed to come out of my bones and make me feel at home in the magical waves?

MOON OVER HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA

The sun was about to go below the horizon as I left my dream musings. I gave thanks for the lovely dream and gathered myself and set off for my home located on Church Street, Howth. I planned to write that dream down in my journal and fill it full of all the details. I would draw some images too. 

Recent watercolor of a blending in together in the dance

That evening as I meditate I have trouble stilling my thoughts. I am sitting still easy enough. I bring myself back again and again to reducing my size into a small little happy baby pose, as I still my thoughts into a glassy sea surface. Suddenly there is a crack and something breaks away from me and falls on the floor. It happens more times and soon I am small enough to be in the middle of a lotus flower, the petals of which are falling away from me until there is a diamond light above me, blinding me.

As it settles down and as I go lower below the light I see it is a warm steady flame above me. Out of this space I send out this light, love and healing to what I see are the troubled spots in the world. I have a long list and as I go through it, focused on this point of light I am cleansed and healed by it. I send it to surround my readers too. 

I travelled to a marvelous place, Porto Rico recently.

Love from Rose 

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A Dream Jogs my Earlier life Back into Focus.

Much of my earlier life is very definite in my mind, yet when I try and remember some of the fine details they can escape me. What did the railway station in Howth look like? And the way between the station and the strand and many other details are vague to me now. Nevertheless I find that when I write, I fill in details sometimes without being sure that I am right. 

Today I went back to Crimora in Virginia to show my friend the Riprap trail and I was certain how to get there, with a Bear lane someplace nearby. I often went up the trail to the deep swimming hole, very cold, with friends and church groups. I was always getting into that water too. I found Bear Lane,  but this road dead-ened with big notices of Private Property and houses where there used to be a parking place where the horse boxes pulled up and where we, as hikers came regularly. It has been closed down for a few years and there is current litigation going on about it. I was disappointed. I brought my waking sticks and hoped I could go back there. 

I doodle while I listened to a recent dream.

I was satisfied that my memory was better than I though, when we stopped into a local gas station and found out what was going on. 

A recent dream brought me back to a time when I lived in Howth, County Dublin in my 20s. I lived in community and we had a yoga teacher. He did not live with us.  I became the bread baker for the community/company and sent bread into the store/gym in town. The bread I made was always whole wheat bread. Sometimes I made apricot pies and raisin bread too using wheat based crust. Large cans of cooked apricots from Spain were available locally and very delicious, even with a bread crust.

On a recent airplane ride I drew a picture of my fellow passenger. She was inspired to draw a picture of herself for me in return. We talked dreams and the journey was shortened for us both.

There was a walled in Garden up at the back of the house that was accessed by the stairs through the house. Under the apple trees, filled with blossoms, in the spring was a wonderful place to lie. There were little bedrooms and big bedrooms. I had met my ex-husband through the yoga and we hung out and lived together in this house. There were a number of couples and one child that lived with her mom.

Watercolors of some friends I met recently on a trip.

We paid rent and also give more than the required amount as we felt inspired to support the whole venture. It was mixed up with past lives and the idea that we were all pretty important people in a distant biblical past. One of the tall girls had some ability to see the past lives of others. She said I was interested in prison reform and was a quaker in another life. The Edgar Cayce readings were front and center, backing up these ideas.

As part of this community our duties were to teach yoga classes. We practiced yoga but we’re not given much in the way of formal training. The leader liked to come in late at night after some class in Dublin, and we all stood around as he talked. We had some high jinks with dancing on the table and staying up all night and had a lot of fun, as a group. 

Mandela in architecture in San Juan, Puerto Rico.

I was passionate about things like prana, diet, and yoga exercises. We did classes in the towns both far and near. I was dropped off in Mullingar, in the center of Ireland.  My classes were held in an upstairs hotel room with big windows that looked out on the street. I waited for the other person to come back from her class in another town, to get my ride back to Dublin.

Part of the Yoga business included selling cottage cheese and bread to the class members as well as in the store/gym in Eccles Street  in Dublin. Not everyone loved the hard bread and follow-up business was not always that great for my bread. The cottage cheese was made by another member of the group. He took on this onerous chore of producing cottage cheese to a consistent standard.

From the dreams – completed in session while working on a dream

I was interested in dreams back then and kept a number of big dream journals. When emigrating to the United States I decided not to bring them with me and left them out for the trashcan. Later I kept dream journals and pondered their meaning. 

I am still having dreams but much less often, reduced to a few a month. I do hear dreams every day from others and love to hear them, draw them, talk about them and generally walk around in them. Chains have appeared in three dreams of others lately. 

From the dreams

This morning in meditation I quieten my body into a stillness by breathing exercises and chanting. I am also seeing the need to quieten my mind so I brought myself back to this task a few times. I said “less and less” of Rose and “more and more of God” as I got into a child’s pose (yoga) in my mind a number of times. Eventually there seemed to be a shift and I felt some thing that was around me fall away and like a lotus flower opening. I was left with a center above me. It was shiny and diamonds and finally a flame. 

Karen had a big party week planned in Puerto Rico. This is the picture she drew for me.

When I told this to another, he said that when I said those words he had the vision of being very small and going into the lighted cross. I am reminded of the white shadow of the cross from my mother’s dream. I felt calm and at peace after the meditation. 

If you are wondering what to do about any war situation, you can meditate at 8 am and 8 pm each day and when you get into some center in yourself, you can send the light to surround the leaders of nations. Do not be frustrated, accept what is and be assured your prayers will be heard in God’s time. Thank you for reading, for considering these things. I look forward to comments.  

This little light of mine – I’m going to let it shine.

Love from Rose.

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Moriah and What Happened under the Bedclothes.

Moriah was in bed as she often was. She liked to go to bed at nine and get up when ever she woke up in the morning, usually between seven and nine, depending what the sun was doing. She had the habit of waking for two hours in the night to get into the silence of herself. This she liked to do, while she stretched her leg out of the bed to loosen up the sciatica area and or hang her head over the end of the bed and feel the stretch through her neck.

Hanging off the bed

Then she might be chanting or singing at the same time. It had to go on in her head because she was now sleeping with her new man, Garoidi.  If he was snoring loudly she could let some notes out into the air. However they had to coincide with his uvula flapping loudly.

The only problem was that her new room mate did not seem to understand her habit of stretching, meditating, being quiet and generally that Moriah is trying to be in another dimension, in the night. He did not understand that she believed that being touched in this time messed up her concentration and her energies. 

A little conflict

Initially she went up to the loft to sleep and do her meditation and that was a fine arrangement for both of them as they could be together at times and Moriah could still have her space to pray, upstairs. He made great efforts to bring her into the same bed as him and after some time she found she liked sleeping with him and would meditate separate from him, while bring together most of the night. 

As time went by and the winter came and the cold nights, she especially liked to lay her hip bones up against his back and feel the warmth spread through her. He was like an angel with fire in his wings keeping her toasty and warm. She got in the habit of meditating along side him. She got a new bed and with the extra room she felt she could stay put to meditate on the other side of the bed. 

He was blue in the face trying to figure out her shenanigans.

He did not understand this habit of hers. When she had moved away from him to the edge of the bed, he wanted to put hands on her to be sure she was there, to be sure she was his.

Moriah would tell him that when she was meditating he had to stay over there on his side of the bed and she could be separate, talking with God. He said he wanted to go along with that but in the dark of the bedroom at night, he felt like he was in the under world, that somehow in that silence, when her breath was so quiet, he felt aloneness and that she was gone, like a ghost without substance, perhaps she would melt into nothingness and he felt she was gone from him completely.

Maria did not have a lot of sympathy for Garoidi when she would feel him waking up, and half see him in the dark, on a moonlight night,  feel him through the bed clothes raising his arm up into the air, pivoted so that it was over her and come down silently, quietly, delicately onto her breasts. 

Moriah got a little mad at him.

As time went by, her patients seem to dry up more and more and as that hand pivoted and came towards her she would slap it away not careful that her nails didn’t touch him and mumbled that she was meditating and he had to stay over there. 

After she pointed her index finger at him in the dark, that seemed to have the effect of moving him over onto his side, like a bolt of lightening. He might move a little towards that side of the bed, his side of the bed, grumble, yawn loudly and not take his feet over to his side of the bed. Moriah had to go down with her feet and push them over towards his side of the bed, and like a baby that was being smothered under the blankets, violently push his errant feet, with two short kicks. Then the feet might move over an inch or two to his side of the bed.

Moriah lost in her own madness

He wondered if some barrier between them would do the trick, and said he was handy with wood and could create a wooden barrier with two holes in it to facilitate relations but otherwise they could be separate. Moriah felt a little huffy at this suggestion. He seemed pleased with himself, having found a manly solution to the issue. 

In the bed

He said he wanted to understand what she wanted but felt Moriah was kicking him slowly but surely out on to the wet window sill. Moriah wondered why he could not leave her alone in this time of her reaching. Lucky for Moriah he did not seem to hold a grudge toward any of these activities during the night coming from Moriah. He professed to love her dearly and Moriah could feel his heart felt care for her especially after meditating. He was like a warm light nearby lying there with lighted wings of love. 

In meditation

As Moriah meditated she was drawn inwards even as she was rolled out like dough again and again and came together as a scroll along her back bone. She would not give in to the cries for sleep or sex, or for any other activities while she meditated on her back.The end.

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All Songs and Dances Considered

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

Dancers in the Back Bone

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

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

From a Dream over twenty years ago – naked in a cave making my own walls.

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

The Dreams

Healing Medicine Buddha – I had a dream of a huge Medicine Buddha in my back yard. I was doing mindfulness meditation at that time.

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

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

My mother’s iconography – Child of Mary Medel from when she was in boarding school, early 1930’s and “The Holy Face of Jesus” brought home from Lourdes by my Great Grandmother in 1950’s.

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

The heart chakra woman from the dreams pointing the way to the helpers.

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

From the Dreams

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

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

Staked through the Heart – pinned to the wall. It can be an agony in the garden to make changes.

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

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

A Doodle at Bible Study – referencing a dream where I was been examined and poked to see what was wrong with me.

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

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

More snow this morning but not as much as this lot.

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

Mandala

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

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

That Little Light of Mine ….

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

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Dreams and Dancers

Dreams are stories that have something to tell us. They hold the key to what gets opened that comes through from our soul’s desire. It is a combination of putting together what we need  and looking at what new developments and lessons are coming our way.

From the Dreams

Many dreams have difficult elements to them. Nightmares come through with torture and trauma, shootings and runnings. These are  the forever elements in the nighttime landscape. There is not just hardship but some kind of a pull of the soul’s desire to bring us into ourselves and some ball of twine, gordian knot, some scheme of dream has to be undone.

From the dreams

When we are in a dreamed centered life we can go home to ourselves and satisfy the longing of the soul to be heard. Even if the dreams are not pleasant, they still come out of our home place. Learn to be comfortable sitting into the dream. These dreams are time events and they may be hard ones but we need to develop a relationship with the dream. 

We have to care about it;  we have to look at it, even have to have a little bit of love for the dream.  The way to do this is daily practice going forward, at least one hour a day, to spend  time on these extra ordinary events. They are difficult and they are different but they will bring us into an “at-home-ment,” an at-one-ment,  an-attain-ment within us and an at-tune-ment with the unconscious.

From the dreams

My next dream last night after writing the above is about two chickens. One chicken has been let go and a fox is running around after it at a little distance. The second chicken is between my two hands and I can not let it go, its dirty feet are inches from my face and they are straining away from the sight of the fox toward my face. I am asking for help and want to let it go. Nobody is helping and it does not seem to be time to let it go. If I let go my face will be scratched with those dirty feet. 

From a session

Associations: These chickens are like those that are carried in the great big trucks with cages piled high and chickens packed in. The truck flies past with loose feathers getting away and usually a fairly good stench to assault my nose. My association to the fox is the devil, stealer of chickens in my childhood and a generally very frightening animal that might pounce on me when I closed in the hens late at night.I would become airborne as I sailed back into the lighted house from the hen house. In my dream I am not afraid of the fox at all, only of being torn by those chicken feet. 

It is a difficult dream and may have been repeated in the past with some other animal. But chicken it is today. I wake in the night to meditate but not before I go back and forth with my dream. The chicken feet are determined to claw my face. The chicken is determined to pull off my persona so I can be in “My real face.”  l would like to throw away anything that would help me get inside the persona, happily give it to the fox. I should be thankful for this scratching beneath the surface of the persona that will bring me in contact with what lives beneath.  

The mandala below brings associations to transformation and to coming to the place of being ready for change. (I am a MARI trained teacher now.)

After this conclusion I settle down to meditate after stretching and massaging my sluggish bones and brawn. I am doing my christian version, starting with the Our Father and going up through the chakras in my back as I go along. I do a “aaarrreeeeeummm” in a long breath feeling vibration going through my throat up through the center of my brain where the chakra associated with God is closest. 

This image came from a dream a young woman shared in session

Yesterday I saw birds land on someone’s hand(Facebook connection,) as she holds out food for them. It took me a while to realize the food was on someone’s hand. The bird landing on the side of her hand took a lot of control and determination to balance.

In my meditation it was as if a dovelike, big white bird comes in behind me and the wings are down my arms and I see light, white and feel a lift, carried. I am being shown something new, feeling into a new way. I am delighted with this and thankful that this has happened. I send it out in my healing prayers for my readers and all on my healing list. 

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

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

As I go on with the chant the dance goes on. The dancers do the vine dance catching hands circling around, being led. With a delicate hand they reach down to put something in place in the ground of my being that has been out of place for a long time. It makes me smile and they go on their way and the silence of white snow, full of sunshine, feathers settle in around me when the light feet are truly gone leaving me with the traces that their delicate hands leave behind and their delicate foot work does no harm in me.

Even without sunshine on the snow it is very beautiful when it first falls.

I am playing the hymn “let me be your servant too” because the dancers have come to be my servant to heal me and hold me and make me smile from ear to ear and to put me into fits of laughter and joy.

You meditate and pray for me and for your loved ones and of course for the best of your enemies. I have a practice that falls over seventy minutes usually. I feel the winds of change circling, vine dancing us, and I am glad to be here with you now. Love from Rosemarie.

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Incoming New Soul arrives with the New Year.

I have a habit of praying for incoming souls in general for the last fifty years. But I usually just have one or two I know about personally that I am praying for at any given time. Once I met a dad who was the father of twins. I had a slightly awkward moment explaining to him my prayers for his twin daughters. I told him about praying for incoming souls. I told him that sometimes I had a time trying to find an incoming soul in particular to focus on. He seem to understand and we both laughed.

The baby next door, for whose soul I prayed in advance, is now seven months old. It was a great pleasure to watch him watching his family dog, while carried by his father, a morning walk. 

A visit to the river is a must on New Years – even if I did not get into the water.

The little boy could not get enough of that dog walking beside him. Even-though his face was turned away from me I know it was full of delight and interest because that is the way he looked at me the other morning, as he smiled at me. 

For the last few months I have been praying for my other neighbor’s gestating baby. She was born right before New Year’s. 

At the end of my meditation as I prayed for her, I would focus on that particular baby and my face would break out in a big smile. It never failed to happen and I prayed for them every day, after she told me she was pregnant about six months ago. When the baby was not faced down for the birth I spent some extra time imagining the baby turning and being ready for the birth. 

I heard that the midwives surrounded her, the mother, one evening and literally turned the baby into the correct position with their encouraging hands manipulating her pregnant belly. If the mother got worried, they would see this and reassure her and at last it happened, and the baby was facing down and stayed there, with just a few weeks left before the birth. 

This evening I saw the baby outside on the father’s chest and I walked over. The father was wearing a blanket around him, and  the baby was cosy. 

He told me of that most special time of being behind his wife, holding her, as she pushed the baby into life. He said that he got into it fully when he started to shout words of encouragement to his wife when the pushing time came. 

Sitting out at the river with a friend

Later she told him that the shouting was the most helpful thing, in that hectic time when the last stages of pushing for birth are happening. He gesticulated with his arms as he told me of the shouts and he leaned back at he told me how his body seemed to get into energetic action in pushing the baby forth.

When he lay at home on his bed twenty four hours later, he could feel the energy still coursing through him, down into his hands and through his whole body. The holiness of the moment and his willingness to get into the flow of the birth of his baby daughter brought him to love in a profoundly felt moment. He said it was “life changing.” He did not judge his actions but was in the “Tree of Life”moment for him and his family. 

The snow was woven around everything – I did the exercise “Jade dragon weaves around the body” while on my porch looking at the snow.

Fathers especially feel these moments, as they have to be the one holding her hand as the wife goes about this most holy of motherly tasks. The father of my children always held the newborns and wept. It was a lovely moment for me as he turned away with the child and had that moment with them. 

He said the baby seemed to be doing fine “eating, sleeping and pooping.”

I wondered if it would be ok to bring over a jar of applesauce canned this fall, to make sure everyone else in the family is on the same schedule above as the baby. We laughed. I said I would leave it on the front porch.

He said his dogs seemed to understand that the baby is part of the family now and accepted the baby. He noted that I should not leave that applesauce on the front porch as the dogs might think that I was an intruder and would bark the house down. I agreed to leave it somewhere else for them. 

The helpers in the corner

We even talked about stitches and tearing versus cutting to help the baby emerge. I think I had three episiotomies with the birth of my children. My tail bone was also broken off when the obstetrician helped my first born into the world with a forceps. I sat on a doughnut for six weeks until it healed. I saw red about it for some years afterwards. It is all forgotten now except sometimes I have to let go yet again relating to that pain. I have to say thank you to the staff there at the time who were attending to my birthing needs. 

I am chanting and reading. One of the little books said that all the meditation in the world is no good if I do not practice love with all my heart. I gave a healing massage for someone who felt “like crap.” I sang “Oh healing Waters” over them. I felt very high afterwards and full of peace. “As long as you do it to one of these the least of these my brethren you do it to me.” I am getting the hang of this a little. I hope you do too.

Love from Rose. 

Dressed up warm for an evening in the snow before sunset.
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Holiday News – Conscious and otherwise.

As I lay in my bed starting meditation, my head was itchy at the back and I started to run my hands through the hairs on my head after I failed to locate the hair brush where I thought I left it on the wooden shelf above my head.

Then I remembered the time I felt all the hairs in my head are attached to nerve endings and that those nerve channels run all the way down each side of the back bone and on down to my feet. I felt their route at that time. It was nice to have that memory from that other time fall into awareness again.

On the Ganges putting my light out into the water to be carried away with my prayers.

I was also drawn back to the time of the Festival of Lights in Diwali when we went on a boat, drawn along by current, quiet with no engine. We stopped the boat and put our own little lights onto the water and said our prayers to our God as we let them go. The votive light was on a leaf and the little light holder was make of mud. It was dark at the time. 

It is the holidays again and in the absence of family, I are free to do as I please. I had a hearty breakfast and before I was recovered I set off for Todd Lake after putting the bike in the back of the new car. It fit in there snug and I was very pleased. 

I went around by Mole Hill, never inclined to go to a place directly. I went by one of the Churches on Mole Hill, and there were hundreds of mennonites there and perhaps two hundred horse and buggies. It was well after eleven and there were groups of men standing outside near the horses, and some women in black holding colorful babies here and there. 

My picture does not do the whole scene justice as I did not feel bold enough to stop and start shooting photos. I could hear their quiet talk. It was a very large gathering. The doors were open in the warm weather. I could not see inside. 

silver Lake in Dayton

I went my own ways looking at the lovely scenery in all directions, mountains and rolling hills with a carpet of black and white Holstein cattle lying out enjoying the sunshine. They found a sheltered spot and were so close together they displaced the grass in that warm corner of the field.  

My trusty bike

Near the top of the mountain at Todd Lake after fixing some loose screws on the bike with a penknife blade and then with a key, it was ready for the 5 miles downhill off that mountain. There was one uphill piece through a pass with I negotiated by meandering back and forth until I scaled the hill. I opened my pink wind cheater coat, I noted I was close to sweating. 

Soaring down hill, I chanted a mantra in four segments, raising an arm, one at at time in unison with the chant. Sometimes I had to hold on to both sides of the handlebars to remain upright. 

have no idea how this picture came about. I may be riding on my bike.

My white scarf was blowing in the wind, the river ran along near the road at times. I stopped at a bridge and almost threw myself into the low flowing water. I resisted and went on.

At the bottom of the hill and I wanted to get into that deep pool of water not far from a camp site/store. I compromised with me agreeing to ride my bike a few more miles, like two, to let off the rest of the steam I was feeling. 

Back in the car, I wandered around through roads whose names were Natural Chimneys, Coakley Town Road and Crystal Springs Road. 

The food cooking in a slow cooker on low was not cooked on my return, especially the two huge potatoes left to soften up in the top portion of the cooker. I turned it to high and went onto the porch to enjoy the mild weather. I thought of the news I got this week of someone doing a crystal workshop. She was instructed to put a crystal in her hand and to hold it into sleep. This she did.

I got a gift of five bunches of kale and a bunch of sweet potatoes for Christmas and felt very good health wise.

Then she had a dream experience of an older family member, with whom she was very minimally associated. He was dead for fifteen years and she had not thought of him for many years and the circumstances of his death were kept secret from her at the time. In her dream he was in a lake with water was up to his knees. He wanted help from her. 

She wanted him to turn toward the light but it took some time to get him to turn around and stop looking into the water of the dark lake that was up to his knees. After some time he did turn toward the light  and like a baby in the birth canal, he was drawn out of his fifteen year prison and went off toward the light. She was very satisfied with this outcome. 

Another kind of knee deep in water in Nepal River, Katmandu, straight from the Himalayas.

When she awoke she asked her mother about this family member and was told he had addiction problems and had dropped in two feet of water after drinking a lot of alcohol. This scared her so much, she did not risk placing those crystals in her hands again, even if she leaves them in her bedroom still. 

That one feather I mentioned.

Waiting on the food cooking, I ambled off my porch and with “my stick” (waking cane) and I set off up the hill with my sights on the graveyard surrounded by tall pines and with eleven tall pines in a circle in the middle. (A few years ago a storm took one of them out.) As I walked toward the pines my attention was drawn upwards and a flock of vultures fly upwards in three waves out of the trees. I found just one short feather that I have as evidence of this event. I looked at headstones and tried to make sense of all the dates and ages of the dead, never thinking of my own demise once.  

That is all the news for now, unconscious and otherwise. I had a lovely day and hope you had too. Keep meditating and praying and hopefully you too will feel your nerve endings as you drop deep into yourself. Love from Rose

On the Ganges River
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