The Lost Pocket Book and Found Dreams

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The entrance though the hedge

The hedge in Rose’s front yard, was trounced with a car crash. It is now leaning in all kind of directions. Rose tied it up to make it back the way it was but that is a waste of time mostly. The hedge insists on showing its scars as well as the fact that it is full of life. In time it will fill out with its own shape again.

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A car landed in the hedge

Like the hedge, sometimes the ways of the parent leans heavily in unbalanced directions on a child, whether it was drinking or anxiety, desertion or abuse.  What will it take to grow straight into self minus these leaning energies, opinions,  patterns and personality of the parent. What will it take to attract a better mate than the image given by the parent patterns. The question is to find out how to clip out some bits and pieces, and let the natural self rise up in its place. It will involve a period of time to take out the pattern of being leaned on in the wrong way. Like the swans in Co. Westmeath, time is involved. Like the hedge in the front yard, time is involved.

 

 

 

Rose has lost her little red pocket book somewhere. She has not been able to find it. One night she dreamed it was blending in with a red quilt on her bed, which does not exist. Rose is fairly sure it is not in the house but may stand corrected later. Her credit cards are put on a soft hold for now. She has some talking to do with herself about financial matters but is putting it off. Maybe the loss of the purse is her unconscious’ way to get her focused.

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Focused

Sometimes she has to go where she does not want to go in order to resolve her issues. She wrote a letter and it helped her decide what is and is not important. It was helpful. She talked to two Divas friends of hers, and that was helpful also. She felt more at ease about the issues, with a very definite plan in her grasp.

 

 

 

So next morning, after a whole week of searching high and low at her house, her work and her car, she had made up her mind to get her driver’s license again and to report her purse lost or stolen. She also went through a wide ranging number of scenarios, about who might have stolen it, why, where. No body was safe. Rose remembered she had brought it to the car of her friend when going to Qi Gong exercises. After searching this friend’s car at dusk on that first evening, she did not find it. So she doubted this memory.

 

 

 

She had a strong feeling it was not in the house. She tidied away everything and as the pocketbook is six by four inches and with a long red strap, it could not be concealed that easily.

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It was with some delight she received a text from Elizabeth that her pocket book was in her car behind the driver seat hidden under other stuff. She had found it there when looking for something else. Rose did not look in the back of her car, as she was certain she had it in the front seat and while she thought of putting it under the front seat she changed my mind and put it on the arm rest. It fell down at some time toward the back and was hidden there in the dusk when Rose looked into the car.

 

 

 

That pocket book stayed away a whole week, the amount of time it took Rose to change her attitude about some things. It does not mean she has to ignore boundaries, but she does have to have a good attitude while working with them.

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The players

Rose went to two of the Bach Music Festivals’ Concerts, held here in Harrisonburg at this time of the year. The players are magnificent at the music is. The girl sitting beside Rose in beautiful red had tears running down her face. The noon concerts are held at Ashbury Church and a full house listened in rapt attention to the players on piano, and on stringed instruments. Rose closed her eyes and breathed this music into her body and it found a home in her bones.

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At the festival

On the street there is often a slightly muffled sound of a practicing band across the way. It brings back sweet memories of when her children practiced live music in her house for many years as they practiced their pieces and perfected their abilities.

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The House Musicians – Piano, Drums and Guitar to name but a few.

Rose got a dream from a concert goer who was writing her goals in her journal. She told Rose of a dream which she had twice recently. It was one of flying above the trees and she had a peaceful easy feeling both times as she was hanging out there above the trees.  Rose asked her about her spiritual work and she said she was meditating regularly since school let out. Rose considered the dream as a gift to reward her for her efforts at meditating, letting her know that peace comes dropping from such efforts.

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Peace Place beneath the tree.

After doing a water arobic class this evening Rose was treated to her final dream of the day. It is difficult to say “no” to the church of childhood and life without a ton of guilt. She told Rose that she had heard a voice saying “You have permission” and that brought tears streaming down her face.  The dream brought an image of a phone that was totally saturated in the water and there was no use trying to revive it now. The dream was a confirmation that she cannot go back to her former expression of her spirituality.  She is finding new tracks and new paths now.

 

 

And if you want to find new tracks and new paths do call to schedule. I look forward to hearing from you and working around the places where your own peacefulness is waiting for you. Love from Rose.

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The Long and the Short of it all

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If my mother thought I had put on some weight she would say  “beef to the heels, like a Mullingar Heifer” The other insult that was thrown around was  “a long low butt, like Joe’s Leagh’s dog.” My sister Mary was wont to say this to get a good laugh going. Rose learned about herself through these general insults, as her height would be woven into such stories. Her legs were short and her body long. Once when Rose was about eleven and was spending too much time trying to hang out with an older girl, this girl spent ten minutes laughing at her “button nose.” She learned some good lessons through it all.

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When Rose was gestating in the womb, her mother did not tell her father that a new fetus had begun to grow. When her mother was cutting her father’s hair, he poked her belly and asker her if she was “with child.” My mother was five months pregnant and got a fright and confessed.  Rose sometimes wonders if she felt the rejecting poke at that time. Her legs refused to grow those last few inches awarded to her siblings. Her mother’s legs were short too. Her father died of the “black flu” when she was in her mother’s womb, maybe a little younger than when Rose sustained her father’s poke.

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As well as being short, her legs give her all kinds of pain focus. The shamans had the belief that the legs had to be a problem to be a shaman. The pain brought its own awareness with it. So she smiles now and says it had to be, in order to be a good shamanistic dream interpreter. Druids studied for twenty years to be accepted into that priesthood. Rose is studying dreams for more than twice that amount of time now.

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Rose thought her leg pain was a big issue since she was in her twenties. And this caused her to make all kind of decisions that might heal her, around doing meditation, experimenting with diet, exercise, healers, physical therapy, massage, etc. One of her health care workers said in the recent year or two “you know your knees are deformed.” Rose examines them for such sentence and catches a glimpse of them at times in large plate glass windows in large cities. She smiles and knows they are shaman legs now.

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Rose still asks people for the dream of “last night.” The nearby fenced-in bull dog was barking up a storm and this caught Rose’s attention while typing. The cause of all the barking was a young woman walking her little dog around the block. She, the dreamer, was frustrated with her dream not being too clear. Rose was happy to hear it. She said it was about “being in band and having to fight to get into the band.” When asked by Rose if she was Christian she said yes.

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This beautiful young girl did not mind if I took her photo.

Then Rose linked the dream to her spirituality. The dream says she has to put up a good fight to become one of the band of Christ. She liked that. The question Rose had for her is “What would that look like for you, in the here and now, to take on that fight that secures you into being one of that band?” She is right on the cusp of adulthood. She said it was sweet to contemplate her dream in this light, that it was not a meaningless dream.

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Rose sat out in the morning light, and felt peaceful, as peace dropped onto her from the tall walnut tree. She could feel it dropping from the breaking dawn veils of the morning, dropping slowly and peacefully from where the birdsong accumulate in the tree above her, among the star shaped walnut rings of leaves.  It helped her pray sincerely for peace in her self, in her home, in her family, in her work and in her neighborhood. May peace be with you my readers and may it scatter until all of our peace veils connect.

So if you have a dream and want them thrown around in the beautiful air of this marvelous breaking in summertime, call me for consultation. I will do more than lean over the deck and talk to you for a few minutes. I will be happy to look at your dreams in your dream journal and link them into working for you to bring you to a new understanding of the Spirit working in you. Love from Rose

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Swans

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A signpost on the railway line that runs by my house

The boarding school, which Rose attended for five years as a teenager, in Co Westmeath, stood beside Lough Ennell, near the town of Mullingar. There was a big group of swans on that lake, which could be seen from the three big windows facing that way in a half circle. While doing exams, she would see the little boat on the lake, with a lone fisherman, and the swans near a little inlet, all in perfect reflection on a perfectly still lake, in the near distance to the school.

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The school has since become a hotel, and Rose went there, one afternoon with her mother, who loved an early tea, and a slice of brown bread. Our table was set in those windows and they looked out to the lake and the swans. She walked with Rose down the paved lane to the lake and they spoke to two lovely bright silver grey spotted horses on their way down to the lake. Her mother spoke her own horse language to them, which was singsong and involved many smiles, varying with her words, as she reached to pet them. The field was spotted with old copper beach trees, with bright grey trunks and the beautiful copper leaves. A golf course is behind a grey stonewall.

 

It felt bitter sweet for Rose to walk there, as she reconnected to her feelings. Rose lived with thirty-five teenager girls. There she falls in love, digests the rules, encounters the rivalries, looses much loved friends to others. Then there was the yearly exams, both religious and regular ones, religious services daily, Mass and Rosary, and her own personal prayers for good marks in exams. The food patterns, where Sunday was sausages, porridge on weekdays, and some grapes in October from the nun’s hot house,  could be relied on. The sisters themselves, some sweet, some not so sweet, brought learning and adoption to Rose.

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I just have a photo of this drawing I did a while ago.Beautiful Miriam.

In Back Bay State Park, south of Virginia Beach, the swans landed one time when Rose and her children were on a long weekend. Rose always rushed into the lodge to get one of the bunks with a view of the water, and a window to open beside her face. The leader had the participants listen to the sounds made by the swans, who had just landed in their southern winter destination. They were hidden by the rushes, which had invaded the bay there. Privacy and shelter for the swans meant Rose did not see them, except in her mind’s eye, and heard settling in for the night sounds from the swans.

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Recent Mandala

Rose looks back on those great weekends, attended twice a year, in which Vicky showed the group how to gather what was local and incorporate it into the regular recipes. There were many hands to make light work of the shelling, or picking. Service berries were Rose’s favorite fruit to be picked in the springtime event over Memorial Day. Service berries are like blueberries, but a little sweeter, less juicy and having an oilier nutty flavor.

 

There is an old Gaelic story about the Swans. Three children are turned into swans by the stepmother. This is code for ego energies, trying to take over the lovely young spiritual natural energies. The swans were said to have lived nine hundred years on three local lakes, in Co Westmeath, her home county, in Ireland. Rose, if she were a swan, would wake to the morning rising sun and a crescent moon above the tree line, and settle in the dusk, on lake Derevaragh, with some swan noises, reviewing the day in some way, releasing the anxiety, settling into the peacefulness of the night and the sky. Totally alone, yet not lonely.

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Sitting on a wall in Co Westmeath, DeNore Castle.

So a swan would become human again if she stayed in simplicity, for a period of time to get the energy back from the ego control, the evil stepmother and father. It is not about a  boy/girl friend, but about energies inside. Reflecting on the inner and outer male energies can bring awareness.

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Rose did not turn her children into swans.

The dreams will be helpful, bringing in the inner male energies, patterns laid in by having a father with certain patterns. If the dream says that four guys are involved with causing the blue bird of happiness to hibernate and become plastic under a tree trunk, then the father connection comes up for examination in therapy. He drank too much and had anxiety, and his little girl had to care for him. Does she pick a husband who does not drink but has other issues equally debilitating to him and her? The dreams give some clues to the dreamers involved on how to address this. The natural outpouring from the unconscious itself has the strength to straighten this out over a period of time. Images are transformative.

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Hamming it up

So if you, a woman, have a dream with those lovely male energies represented by a man, and if you are a man and have a dream with those lovely female energies represented by a woman, then you are looking at animus and anima archetypes respectively. Those two archetypes alone are full of meaning and will bring awareness to those who take the time to stop for an hour to examine them as needed. A twenty-minute to an hour time daily of personal time devoted to the dreams and meditation will be helpful.

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Sitting into a dried up holy well in Co Westmeath.

I will sign off now hoping you come here to people my day and I will take your dreams and examine my life in the light of them as they are full of other and cannot help but help my energies grow as I reach to react to them in my feedback, writing, drawing and awareness. It is my heart’s delight to be graced by your presence and dreams. I look forward to hearing from you and seeing you in my little office here in Harrisonburg. It is a beautiful place; the Shenandoah Valley and I would be happy to do some marathon sessions with you as you bring your book of dreams and drawings. Love from Rose.

 

 

 

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I Know the Plans I have for You

 

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The story tellers hat

The late spring found Mariah and Uishneach at some odds with each other but nevertheless going about what they considered their own business. She continued to meet with the Druid who encouraged her to meditate and search for the light. Uishneach sometimes paralleled her as he practiced his own disciplines, had his own mentors called the Net of Druids.

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The net

When she finished talking to the Druid, she found a place in the bog, on an old log, near a bog hole, safe. There was the sound of a bubble in the boghole breaking the top of the water, like a lid on a too full teapot, briefly shaking and making a little noise. She hoped the old red fox wound not lollop by her, but she would be ok if a bird landed on her hair looking for a hair for the nest or if she saw a weezel, head up in the air,  followed by her three offspiring, low on the ground,  in the distance.

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Some flowers growing near the log beside the bog hole

It was here that she shape shifted into a miniature version of herself and fell down into her heart. She was not sure if she was in her chest cavity or if she was in some other space. She felt she had pulled her body off of herself like a shirt, a miniature but still herself.

She had just jumped from her ordinary reality into the no ordinary reality of her heart. It was a space of no walls and open to the sky. Her other reality had become as thin as gossamer and as delicate as twilight where she folded gently into her heart and the gates of light swung open in front of her.

 

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Falling into the open heart space

There she sang a song to her beloved asking him to come, asking and pleading “wilt thou come, wilt thou come unto me, Will my days fly away without seeing you my Lord, Wilt thou come, Wilt thou come unto me.” and his reply shook her heart as she heard “I know the plans I have for thee.” His soft words reverberated in this space of no walls. As she reentered her ordinary reality, she kept hearing the words. It gave her a very warm feeling that this lover had some plans for her. She was often just below this threshold and was so happy to have made it into this awareness of love inside.

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He had beautiful eyes

 

Later, she was wide awake, when the story teller from the West came and told the best of stories, gathering his people from heaven, hell and earth to people his stories and he was not beyond putting animal heads on his people or putting one’s soul into the consciousness of the rocks.

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The story teller from the west

He started his story on this evening, by referencing the boards at the end of the lane behind which the story takes place. He told the story of the young man with ass’ ears,  got in control of the older woman, who liked her cups of wine. He was carrying her around at too fast a pace for her liking but she could not get his ears to listen or slow down. He left her on an island, feeling very lonely and abandoned in a place where the only thing she had was a number of cold wet empty purses she pulled out of the lake. They once were lovely leather purses and she asked who would do such a thing. She considered getting into one of the solid rocks for shelter, for durance, for survival.

 

She was advised by the donkey with a human head to look toward the horizon, as all help came from that direction. She sat on a rock and waited as she contemplated.  She kept looking toward the horizon, and memories came to her.

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The boxes filled with the sweetness of infancy

 

Her father’s old letters written when she was an infant came to her. She felt that loneliness inside, her own loneliness for her mother, when she was parted from her, hidden for a very long time. She looked into little boxes on shelves, in the home of her grandmother, to find the feelings, long since lost, forgotten, rejected. She felt the holes in her heart, which she filled with wine, to numb them out. But now when the empty spaces in her heart raised their heads looking for the original feelings put away in boxes at such a young age, she flew toward the horizon and got in the golden boat, and went to her old house and found the shelves where they were.

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The golden boat.

 

The most beautiful feelings, the very thing she needed, to get her off that stone, that deserted island, were in those boxes. She notices that the purses regained their original luster and were the perfect place for such feelings. She put a halter on that guy with the ass’ ears and he did not buck but followed along, mesmerized by those purses, in love with what was stashed in them. She thanked the ass with the human head, who gave her directions. And she bowed to the golden boat and let it go again; knowing it would be there when she needed it next. The storyteller ended the story by saying “And were I have come from, at the end of the lane, that I have told you.” He stayed for the music, eating and drinking such thing as they had, enjoying everything and going his way early the next morning. The end.

Yesterday evening the words “I know the plans I have for you”  came into her mind. She sat there in her armchair, with a smile on her face and a feeling of peaceful love in her heart in that moment.

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A few years ago she painted these words, framed them, and put them in a high place in her home, where she glimpsed them once in a while, never saying them and forgetting how they go. Now she has memorized them and says them often. They are staying with her, as a mantra, which comforts her and also dislodges other fear-based thoughts. It is easy to bring back the peaceful easy feeling that came with the words the other evening. May she never loose them.

And if you have some little boxes, stored tight and high in the old homes you lived in as a child, and if they wander into your dreams waiting to be reopened, reclaimed, be sure to let me work with you. They may be dragging you around at too fast a place, or causing other trouble and games for you. I delight in examining such marvelous put away treasures  that are yours for the opening. Do not be afraid of such work. It will complete you, the rejected stone of yourself, becoming the corner stone of your present day you. A good corner stone is worth anything. Let there be some solid building soon. Love from Rose.

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Meditating in the early hours just after sunrise.

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Gift of the Spirit

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Dream Interpretation is Rose’s Gift of the Spirit

Recently Rose was asked what her Gift of the Spirit was and after making a long list, she wrote that it was “writing.” Others said many other things like, counseling, singing, drawing, painting, poetry, interpretation, dreams, mystic, prayer etc. It was only in hindsight did she realize that dreams are her gift of the Spirit. She was sucked into this avenue when she was about nineteen, when she heard a lecture about dreams and dream interpretation. The promise was that it would transform you, expanding the confines of ordinary reality, beyond the walls of space, time and our egos, springing free into what is next.

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Walls

She was in Ireland at the time and she wrote out many dreams, without much understanding, and without having a mentor to help her with the dreams. Rose did attend a weekly dream group as part of “A Search For God”study group connected to Edgar Cayce’s work. Tea was served and dreams were pondered as sweet cake and sandwiches were consumed at the end of the meeting.  Good times, good times, as her friend Allison would say.

Allison K. Garcia

Allison Garcia is a writer of the book:  Vivir el Dream, an immigrant’s story. Her Gift of the Spirit is writing: http://a.co/tlopY5

She continued with group when she came to Richmond, Virginia that first year away from home sweet home. It was very helpful to be part of a group when she first arrived to join her husband. He was working 15 hours a day at times and the group members took pity on her, without a car, bringing her out to a local gym and meeting weekly for group. Pictures below taken in first year in Richmond, 1985.

 

In the late eighties after immigration, Rose acquired a computer and joined Atlantic University in Virginia Beach. Henry Reed PhD was her mentor then. She did seven of their courses on the Inner Life, Dreams, Meditation, Carl Jung and Transpersonal Counseling. She did some research and found out that dreams did not answer your questions about what to do, but took the trouble to let you know what you needed to know about your self next. She did a lecture here in Harrisonburg for her church group, as part of the course on Dreams, to get a grade of A on the Dreams course. She shared her research with the group.

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Recent picture taken in New York by Frances Longworth. Family is all grown up now. Pictured are Annabeth (Musician) and Miriam (Writer) their Gifts of the Spirit.Miriam’s book is The Unbinding of Mary Read and is on Amazon coming out later this month. Annabeth is making music on Patreon. The McNamara Kids.

Later she started a group in Harrisonburg, where she raised family and spent the intervening years in the States until now. The group was dropped for various reasons while she attended James Madison University. While going through school, she never ceased to bring in the psychoanalytic. She liked to focus on literature that Carl Jung focused on and to write about that. This kept her dream work interest alive and learning more.

 

After she graduated from JMU she restarted the study group and the night after she had her first group she dreamed that she was now starting Collage again. She smiled. Dreams are connected to the college of life and living and will help her with that. With marital troubles she let the dream group drop again. She was two years into her Masters in Counseling by then. Her courses leaned into the psychoanalytic, and gave her new interest in dream interpretation,  with focus on art, art therapy, sand tray and dreams fitting into her work.

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Looking Inward is a Gift of the Spirit

When Rose immigrated to USA in 1985 she was travelling alone with an eighteen-month-old toddler. She decided to content herself with bringing one big suitcase and leaving the dream books behind, which amounted to about five or six.

 

She filled many book over the intervening years with dreams and visions as she studied more of Carl Jung. She still has a remnant  of these dreams connected to her counseling mentor. She went to see her monthly.  Rose travelled three hours to see her.  They both drank strong sweet tea and sat for three hours going over dreams and mandala.

 

Since 2011 she has been filling out the dream leaflet and has two big folders of dream leaflets. In the last year Rose created a 25 page booklet of the dream leaflets and she is liking it better as the leaflets are less vulnerable and are in one place and easily carried about to be filled out. Images below from dream leaflets

 

And as Rose feels her mission and passion is to work with dreams, she goes where no woman usually goes with dreams. The more she goes with them the easier it gets as there is a little of the psychic, a little of the intuitive enlightening her as she goes. She is often stumped by her own dreams but if she speaks of them and works the dream leaflet over them she gets there with them too. She does not have a gardener to talk to about them but she has you. Times in silence often bring her to a new understanding especially when completed in the dawn hours of the morning.  Mystics and Yogis always got up early to pray and meditate at dawn.

 

An unexpected appointment was made with me for this morning and the bearer of about four dreams came ready to work. There were images of a crone, which he helped, of climbing over impossible barriers, of climbing up to top of a hill to check where the water was coming from etc. We considered it all from many angles and as our unconscious was listening to us all the time, I am sure we will get feedback through our dreams when next time we catch them. You too can contact me and start your work with dreams. Everyone dreams but not everyone awakens. This is your life and your dreams and within that looking within, you can awaken to greater awareness and love.  Call me unexpectedly. I love my work. Love from Rose.

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Meditating in the early hours just after sunrise.

 

 

 

 

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Dreams and Meditation at Beach

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In the Meditation Room of ARE

Rose went to the meditation room on the third floor, of the Association for Research and Enlightenment on three of the days she was at Virginia Beach,  There is a huge new crystal in the back corner of the room. She decided to sit right in the middle of the room, to get the benefit of what ever passed between the Crystal and the Amethyst in the opposite corner.

The ocean is out front in the distance. She once dreamed there is a lot of water deep beneath the building. She hoped that the stones, lapis, crystal, amethyst and the water beneath the building and the huge ocean out front, connecting her with Ireland, would supply some extra energy there. Music was played and it was overlaid with bird song, which has a comforting effect. When birds are happy we can be sure there is no threat around.

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Pictures from the back wall of the Meditation Room

The woman who led the meditation said an affirmation when the music stopped after ten minutes. A man left once during the time near the beginning. He had been on his phone earlier. Rose felt a little hostile but quickly went back to the silence in hand. He returned and was very still after that. The leader said a prayer of protection for us all from the Christ. There are large paintings at the back of the room representing some of the major religions.

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Painting from back of Meditation Room at ARE

Buddha, Jesus, Abraham, and Hindu are represented Rose thinks, maybe others. The meditation leader had a list of people to pray/ send the light to (people who requested prayer)/ put the light around(people we are concerned about.) A number of other general requests for those who have no one to pray for them, for the leaders of nations and those recently deceased were mentioned. And finally all were directed to pray for the earth, which Rose was happy to do. When the meditation leader mentions the oneness of us all in the room, Rose felt that oneness. She felt she passed out of herself into that oneness of the infinite for a second.

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Buddha, the Seven Chakras and the Jewish Religion represented

Rose has a song about oneness “All is One, One is All…. There is only one.” And this week she made up another about “Om Mani Padma Om, Children of the Law of One.” She feels that we have to consider everyone, everyone under the one Law, of Love.

Rose went about collecting dreams again and she had another dream from a visitor to the beach from Tennessee. It was about children playing. She told Rose her dream as she sat in the Association for Research and Enlightenment Garden of Prayer and Meditation. There is a waterfall there and benches to sit on. The image of playing with children is a positive energy in the dream.

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Rose asked her about her spiritual path and she said that after she moved and then built a house, she lost her practice of recording her dreams and meditation. Rose considers such practice a spiritual effort to get to know where you are with your God and Spiritual Path. Now the dreamer finds herself at the beach and getting books about the spiritual path and she is interested again and so Rose thinks that is why the symbol of the children comes in again.

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A representation of the Animus, from a woman’s dream. She is not connected to her inner male energies and may need to be grounded as their lower half is not in picture. 

Then the dreamer volunteered she dreamed she was kissing an old boyfriend. Rose though that was a sign that some masculine energy is coming forward and she is getting close to the energy and it will help her find her way spiritually. Again the dream does not tell her what to do with the kissing dream image, just that the masculine energies, the Animus, is active and will be helpful to her as she takes on her task of finding her way on her spiritual path. All of this has to be taken lightly as Rose only spoke to her for a short time. She left Rose carrying her new books, to help her on her spiritual path.

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Recent Mandala

Another dream given to Rose was from a young woman who dreamed of some busy ghosts, who had to work hard to scare people up every hour on the hour. Rose did not understand it at first but then as she paused, as she went down stairs, she knew what it was about. The young woman had just started a job. She did not fully understand their mission, their intent yet and was a little afraid. People had appointments there on the hour. She had not looked into what it was all about. Then her rational mind made her feel that she had to work hard in this place of the unknown (ghosts) for her. I thought this a little funny in the aftermath. She said at the beginning of her dream tale that “I had a funny dream.” Sometimes the unconscious can use a bit of humor in all of this if we look for it. Dreams are so individual that what is significant for one person may not at all apply to another.

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Recent Mandala. This was completed without paying much attention to it. 

I am back in the Burg ready to work with you and your dreams. Be sure to contact me if you want to go a little deeper into your own energies, your own spiritual path, your own dreams. I look forward to hearing from you. Love from Rose.

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Sunrise Surprise

 

 

 

 

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Sunrise at the Beach

 

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Sunrise Surprise

Rose had a yearning for the ocean water again and went to Virginia Beach on her own for two days and was then joined by her boyfriend for two more days before turning again for home.

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Company at the Beach

On three of the mornings she got up early for Sunrise riding her bike in the half light of dawn.  She was so surprised on that first morning when the sun was suddenly half over the horizon, shining on her face. Rose was caught not paying attention as she was writing in her dream journal.

 

Yesterday Rose had the good fortune to have a spa afternoon and met a lovely green-eyed practitioner with knowledge of Druids. She talked of Gobnait, an Irish Druidic Queen/Godess. She said she was Queen of the Bees and the bees are all around her keeping her aloft and she is over the beehive with her foot on the hive. Rose remembered that Isis, the Egyptian Goddess is connected to bees. When the French Napoleon went to Egypt and learned of her, he came back to Paris and that city was named for Isis by him(Par-Isis)

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Dancing Divine Mother /Gobnait

She also talked of how the Druids in the west of Ireland, particularly in the southern tip in the County of Kerry succeeded in bringing in the Light, understanding the light. She gave Rose the name of a book to read about the door of fire. Rose had at least two dreams of being in fires and yet calmly alive as the burning went on. Immolating seems to be a stage in the spiritual process, which burns off dross to be better able to get through the door of fire, move through to next up dimension, change consciousness to love in all the feelings for others, God and self.

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What I was drawing when the sun came up.

Rose gathered up dreams like fish at the beach. From two sisters, retired, she got the following: The bathroom dream; Rose ventured that it was about holding in emotions and not being in touch with spiritual and that the body is affected and there is physical problems that go along with this. When the bathroom dream comes along it will be helpful to go back to meditation, dreams, therapy etc. to get help with letting the emotions go. She nodded her head.

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Meditation garden

Her sister told Rose of a repeating dream of having money and even though she knows someone will steal it she still leaves it down. Rose asked her who the thief might be? She said, “I do not know”. Then Rose suggested that she is stealing from herself. There is something she intuitively knows is of great value (spiritual side) but she lets go of it under pressure, even thought she knows it is of great value to her. She was surprised at first to consider that she is the thief stealing from her own inner wealth, blocking off her own inner life. She said she knew exactly what Rose was talking about.

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Waterfall at the Meditation Garden

Rose also wants to share a dream given to her by a dreamer about a “terrible cheating boyfriend” she had in the past. Rose suggested that she has a cheating part inside herself. “Never” she said. But what about the inner cheating, when we cheat ourselves out of good health, a relationship with ourselves, others, family, God, happiness, love, peace, patience etc. She asked for Rose’s business card. She wanted help with decision making but Rose pointed out the dreams do not tell you what to do, only where the energy wants to go as can be seen by the final image in the dream. The initial image tells you where you and your energies are at the present time.

 

I am home again and busy with workdays and listening to dreams from anyone who has the wisdom to remember them or even from someone who offhandedly tell me they raised someone from the dead in their dream mortuary. I seriously think she is making progress and raising her teenage self from where she had been put away in the cold place.

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Happy meditating and praying at the beach.

Mandalas are the order of the day and are subject to perusal. They are such lovely surprises, like the sun coming up sneakily. All grey and then bam… there it is, a shocking glowing coal on the horizon.  The colors used in the mandala are pinpointed also as they tell their own story, whether it is a color that indicates wounds from childhood or healing. Love from Rose Marie.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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