Rose Longworth Counseling

A Flying Dream and Physical Therapy

Posted on November 30, 2017 by rlongwort

Nobly Knees in New York

After physical therapy this morning both my shoulder joints are buzzing in a good way. Some year ago I went to physical therapy for my knees. Try not to use them too much was the advice or they will wear out. I still loved to walk but over time was not able to keep up that Blue Ridge mountain-type walking and was more resigned to walking between exercise stations in Hill and Dale Park. I could always do QiGong and or Yoga and around the block walks. And I have ease in riding my bike. So when my hips and shoulder and other parts of my legs began to feel more stuck and giving me pain at night I had to do something.

I am thinking about healing again and I can shift pain by meditating and by using the breath to work into an area of pain and relax and release a specific space in the body. Using the breath to bring the Air of Life into the problem spot, using those airways as they connect with every cell in the body is helpful. Using the Water of Life to be in the blood and to go in like fashion into every area of the body is also useful and finally using the Fire of Life to create heat in the offending painful area also has its place. It feels good, as the body relaxes more deeply with such exercise. It is always nice to feel a joint become noticeable warm and letting go of the pain. I just have to remember I am being helped rather than taking credit for healing myself. Angels and Helpers are invoked.

Sushi likes walking with me

Helper

Other healers doing stone massage, acupressure, chiropractic always lightened me and adjusted me and I could go on feeling much better. Inevitably my old thoughts, diet, tension patterns would bring me back and I would be a bit worse for the wear over time. Aging and reduction in the beneficial youthful hormones played a part as did an inheritance of a tendency in the family to have my kind of issues.

I went from the Chiropractor, to PCP to the Physical Therapy professional. I told my PT worker that I had some friends who went to Physical therapy and claimed to have gotten completely cured of arm and hip problems. I knew I was in the right place. She said “No pressure.” I told her I would accept what ever she could achieve. It is great to be in the hands of a PT worker, who is grounded in the healing arts of the physical body. She knows and feels into the joints and how they are moving and adjusts me with specific exercises to stretch and loosen out what has become stuck. The effect was immediate for me, as she used her expertise. Doing specific exercises also hit the spot and held onto the relief from pain.

Flowering indoor plants

White and red Christmas cactus.

I think it will dovetail in a good way with the other modalities I use to retrieve my body from the slow march of old age and as I adjust my attitude toward inner healing. Throwing out disparate attitudes, of doubt and fear, will bring me into oneness also. I am thankful for any loosening, halting of that march into stiffness. I am not trying to live forever, just stay mobile in these later, creative and productive years of my life.

Early blooming Christmas Cactus has finished blooming now

Flying Dream

It was 2.30 am and after putting my foot against the wall for one of my PT exercises I settled down to my meditation practice. I did some breath of fire breathing and my partner rolled well over to the other side of the bed dragging blankets with him. I adjusted my comfort, pillow under knees, and set off into the meditation to give me the peace that “passeth understanding.” At the end of the meditation I went into a flying dream. Two hands are holding my hands. Those hands were nice, slim, firm and male hands. Then I was off flying as if plugged in. It is some years since I had a decent flying dream. I include in my meditation the invocation to be pulled out of myself into the Infinite, Cosmos, Oneness. That is were I felt I went through this “speed flying.” When it stopped I was back in my physical body in the bed with a big grin across my face to have been taken out on such a marvelous jaunt through the universe. Time and space were suspended in those moments. The best of roller coasters without any belts or machines and with two hands to hold my hands, keeping me in place, keeping me safe on the ride, giving me backbone. There was “no-body” attached to the beautiful hands. That they are the hands of the Divine, Spirit, Master, Self, God, Cosmos, Goddess is what I connected them to. I am so grateful, in a basket-full of energy way, today.

Flying

And if you have ever been out there flying, and are having dreams and want to share in an effort to understand the totality of yourself, be sure to come and see me where we will use art and the dreams to draw, and to draw you into a unity within yourself, where you can be more in touch with the completeness of who you really are. It will take a little time, in my space and we both will have to have patience. “In patience possess ye, your souls.” I look forward to hearing from you. Love from Rose.

Cooling off the knees in a Hymalayan River

Posted in dreams, Mandala, meditation, Uncategorized | Tagged dreams, flying dream, Physical Therapy, Watercolors | Leave a comment

The Train Story from the Big Apple

Posted on November 26, 2017 by rlongwort

Art on the walls of the Underground

New York, on the subway, is always an interesting experience, because of the multitude of people, of different ethnicities, dress, orientation and speech. If I travel on my own, I am standing looking at the map of the underground, working out where I transfer and where I get off. When I wanted to visit the Museum of Natural History to see the mineral collection, I found my way, on my own, with just a few enquiries of strangers. The queue was long and even longer inside the museum. I was lucky to go to the information kiosk only to find out that the mineral exhibit was closed until sometime in 2019. We tried to look it up before leaving home but the site was not helpful. I had the unreasonable expectation that someone somehow would let me see what I had come for, if I could but meet that person. I found the bathrooms and left through the revolving doors that reached up three stories high.

Waiting outside – standing in line

I then decided to cross Central Park and go the Guggenheim Museum of art, on the other side. A ride on a bike-carriage would cost me, so I decided to walk. The park was beautiful and sunny, with some of the trees holding onto their leaves, and the buildings peaking over the top of them and with an ice cream in my hand I set off.

A view from Central Park

A tree in Central Park

I sat on a bench in the sunshine before leaving the park and I painted as I rested. The wind tried to blow my paper away but I caught it in time.

After this time, I was tired enough to want to go home again. I was sorry not to see the paintings I love in the Guggenheim Museum, but evening was coming down fast. After some more walking, being distracted by a shop with cakes in the window and cocoa for sale, I found my underground station and settled in for the two hour ride home. A change in Jay Street Station got me onto an F train, the same one my family was traveling on, a fact we realized after exchanging a few texts.

Flowers blooming near the cake shop in Manhatten

On this last leg of the journey a man got on the train near where I sat and started to talk out loud. He overcame all other noise, except the screech of the train brakes as the train stopped and started at the many stations. He addressed everyone yet no one looked at him. I caught the eye of two different women as his story went on. I smiled broadly and they gave me the slightest of acknowledgement with a half closed eye and a hint of a smile. He told us he was retired from the army and that he was well looked after, and had no complaints.

Underground Bird with a message

From there he said that, as we were all on this train now, so we would be on a different train some day. We would all be strangers to each other and we would be trying to explain to the other people what we had done with the life entrusted to us. At the end of our lives, would we be happy with how we had reacted to what had transpired?

art in the underground

I was distracted enough to get off the train, only to realize I was at the wrong station and that it was the next station I needed. I leaped back on board coming to a sudden stop in front of everyone. They were all still listening to his story.

A view of Manhattan near the train station

Our storyteller was now going over how we only pay attention to such petty things as, who said what and how angry it made us, and what a huge waste of time many of our thoughts, emotions and feelings were. The only requirement for a perfect life on this earth was to love each other.

They were glad to see me

Screech Screech went the brakes, and I was off and texting my family as I got out at the right station, wandering off in the wrong direction. They shouted after me, scattered before me as they made different efforts to get my attention and get me home with them. By the time I had walked home I was so happy to sit down to a family feast of Chinese food and the little delicate, air filled chocolate cakes I got in Manhattan, celebrating an upcoming birthday.

The black horse and carriages in Dayton Virginia can look other worldly at times also.

I would have to ponder the little train sermon later. I look back on the storyteller with a feeling of warmth, that he should put himself out to try and get our attention with his other worldly train story. The darkening evening, the speed of the train, being up on rails over the buildings all added to the surealness of the story. I am sure it was a gift to shortening the journey, to raising consciousness, as the little cakes, created by a genius cake maker, were a gift to our feast, raising our delight in their beauty and taste.

Love from Rose

This was a great ending to a few days in the Big Apple.

And if you have a dream of snakes and want to discuss it or of black birds or strange stories, be sure to call and schedule an appointment with me so we can find out how to fly like a bird with such special knowledge.

Posted in dreams, New York, Story telling, Uncategorized | Tagged drawings, dreams, family, flowers, New York, trains, travel | Leave a comment

Poetry

Posted on November 25, 2017 by rlongwort

At the Botanical Gardens in Brooklyn

I am part of a poetry group led by Susan Facknitz Phd. We meet about twice a month at Our Community Place. I love the way it stimulates my imagination and gives me a focus for my next piece of peotry writing. This is my most recent poem:

Honey Comb Heart

My head, my cup

Fill up

Feel the long blue drops

Fall down from the top

Drip drip drop

Of opalescence

Light purple jade

Honey blue bees

Land and dance

Horns of plenty

Into your alive

Honey hive

Drip drip drop

Warm golden cups

Circling up

Plush

Prayer wheels

Thunder around

God’s sound.

Orchids at the Botanical Gardens

I started writing some poetry in my thirties, when I would wake up at night at 2 or 3 am. I had a tendency to worry and started to meditate at that time. I already had an 8am practice for meditation for 20 plus minutes. That time in the night would often wander out into a two-hour stretch. I had a formula, which I kept to, and it would bring me back to meditation many times and I would be able to leave the worry. I always loved the way it made me feel, full of peaceful and easy feelings, ready to curl up and go asleep again. I sometimes feel the need to write after meditation, and that is a fruitful time for the sentiments that come to me within the meditation. It is as if the emanation, which comes through in meditation, fans out into the words.

Once I was told that I wrote poetry in another life, and as a woman writer, there was no outlet or acceptance of such activities and I burned them in the end, in that lifetime. I do not have any such memories. This keeps me from being swamped by such upsetting details. It may explain why I have an interest in poetry now and I do invest time into poetry when I am in a group. I produced a book or two for Christmas and gave them out as Christmas presents back in the last century. My poetry book, “To the Dark Tower” which I produced as part of an Honors Thesis, is in the JMU Library under my then married name McNamara and dated 1998.

I am seeing people for dream work. One person said she has not come to see me yet as it makes her afraid of what I would think of her if she shared. I assure her and you that there is very little in my dreams that are better or worse than what comes through in yours. They are a gift waiting to be opened giving you that which will bring you toward wholeness.

Bonsai beauty at the Botanical Gardens

I seem to have had a three-week break in dreaming but a piece of pyrite, stimulated the dreams again. Pyrite is shockingly shiny. In my dream I had many stones all labeled and set on shelves. I had to pick five of them to bring with me. In reality I have just five stones I have been gifted. The one I like best is a piece of Lapis Lingus.

Lapis Lingus

I hold it for five minutes in meditation at times. I feel it has an emanation of its own, not to be revered as much as acknowledged, as that which centers me more than what I would be without it. I was pleased to have started up again with dreams and to have a memory of them.

A cactus in my garden last June 2017

I look forward to hearing from you and to looking into your dreams soon. I am available during the week, except Tuesdays, and by appointment evenings and weekends. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Love from Rose.

More mushrooms lined up

Love from Rose

Posted in dreams, meditation, poetry | Tagged dreams and meditation, flowers, Photos from New York and Brooklyn, poetry, Watercolors | Leave a comment

A trip to the beach

Posted on November 11, 2017 by rlongwort

Virginia Beach in the Evening

I am thinking about the Water of Life and saying some prayers so that it will enter me – the water, that if I drink it I will never be thirsty again. I remembered a painting in the Vatican Museum when I visited Roam about seven years ago. The painting depicted Jesus sitting at the well and talking about the Water of Life. This paining was recessed somehow and came to life for me. Jesus was sitting relaxed and the woman was getting down from the well. They both took on life like proportions. He told her he had the Water of Life and if she drank it she would never be thirsty again. In the Museum I was in a stream of people going past the works of art and could not tarry there long. I came away with the impression I had seen both Jesus and the Woman.

Here it is still vivid in the here and now of the beach, as I remember their feet, well sandaled and the robes with reds and greens and gold and the woman’s well rounded figure and toes below her beautiful robes. Some jars of water sat there. Her body was caught in the act of getting off the rim, one arm levering her down from the big round casing at the top of the well as she went to tell her kinsmen of his words and of his telling her the details of her life even as he had never met her before. So when I found some prayers to the Angel of the Water of Life I was hooked.

The water of Life

I had a busy time getting ready for the beach trip I had organized with a friend. My friend decided not to come at the last minute as her sister was visiting from out of town. My friend did not know how to tell me she could not come and after some grumbling in general, said that I would need to go on my own. I had to do some prayers in order not to harbor some grumpy thoughts and was able to text my friend and tell her about my prayer efforts. My friend got worried and I got to laugh at her guilt. I concluded I would go happily on my own. I was loaded up with food and freedom and fantasy of having a few warm fall days at the beach. My host at the beach, went back and forth about letting me stay for a third night, as she was upset that my friend cancelled at the last minute and in the end I went to another place over the bay at Great Neck.

I am brought back again to the idea that thoughts are very strong. If my thoughts do not hurt or upset the other person, to whom they are directed, where do they and their energy go? Perhaps they go together with all the other unclaimed negative thoughts in the world and cause some trouble. I am unsure I want to claim that but I will continue to watch what I am thinking as negative thoughts will not do me any good, as they effect my hormonal balance, bringing me depression or anger or revenge clouds. I was mostly very happy at the beach, said lots of prayers and mantras and of course it is my happy place to be beside lots of water.

Angel of the Water of Life

On the last evening on my trip, I went to look at the full moon with my host at Great Neck and we discussed her dreams about her “IT Platform.” Next morning she talked about her paintings and the vortexes of energy she finds in them. I understood her dream and felt that the vortexes of energy are her Platform. She wrote something down in that moment and was pleased. I felt the shivers of energy up my back, as we talked about this together, which lets me know I am onto something energetic for her.

The last roses of summer

blooming alone

When I was having lunch at the beach, I could hear a woman talking about numerology and I found out later she works with birth dates and is an astrologer. When she looked at my birthday she was able to point out deficits as well as strong points, where I need support and where I excel. I had three numbers in the place of the spiritual and so she said I would be strong and accurate, when talking about the spiritual life with people. I was well pleased with her brief reading on my birthdate.

Pelican over waterfall in Meditation Garden at ARE

I went to meditate in the ARE Meditation Room, where the staff holds a guided meditation daily close to noon. There is a period of music, followed by affirmation and silence and then a period of praying for people on their prayer list, where people asked for prayer. There are four points in the room, which increase the energy there. There is a 40-kilo lapis from the Himalayas, a huge crystal in another corner and a Amethyst about four feet tall in a third corner. They are all very beautiful and with the view of the blue ocean out through the big glass window, it is a special place. I am always glad when I include a meditation there with my visit to the beach. I meditated in the small hours of the morning, in my room, on the beach in the early hours and before bedtime I said some prayers. I had my bike with me also and enjoyed an evening bike ride on the boardwalk bicycle path. I could see the full moon through the arm of Poseidon, a huge statue on the boardwalk.

I also ran into Judith Stevens, who is running a prison program, out of the ARE. She sends out books to prisoners and is currently trying to get a group going in the local jail. She is quick to point out that those who get in one of these groups usually stay out, when they get out. It has been a pleasure to run into her over the years. Joe and I hosted her when she visited Dublin, Ireland in the early eighties. She said she will never retire and is very energetic. I was once told by a woman in Dublin that in a past life I was concerned with the plight of prisoners in England.

Sitting on the log thinking about the dream

I am not retired and am also energetic to get more people to work with their dreams where the energy is stored. I hope you will consider working on your dreams and contact me. I look forward to hearing from you. Love from Rose.

Posted in dreams, meditation, Spiritual | Tagged beach, drawings, dreams, meditation, Prayer | Leave a comment

The Leprechaun and Water of Life

Posted on November 9, 2017 by rlongwort

Moonrise at the beach

Mariah said the mantra for an hour to have the Water of Life enter her. She was at the ocean edge and surely if there was some Water of Life available she would get it here. She exercised in the shallow pool left by the tide retreating as she said her words. Twice the ocean rolled up and over a bank replenishing the pool she stood in, sending ripples around her ankles. Is there an angel at work here? Will I be healed?The second time there were two spill at the same time into her pool about five feet apart. These ripples interlaced bringing her different angles and angels.

Angel in ARE Meditation Garden

A big seagull settled on the rise between her and the ocean. He preened and she found one of the wing feathers in the pool at her feet. Then the large gull sat down to rest ignoring her until she broke out into a song to the Holy Mother of the Ocean. In that moment the gull turned her head around toward Mariah and kept it there and gave one clap of the wing facing Mariah. Mariah could see how the black and white feathers sat together in a black white check pattern pulling out from beneath the wing in that moment of fright at her song.

The feather from the gull

A woman walked with her brownish red hound. The dog carried a yellow ball in his mouth. They were reflected perfectly in the tide pool in color against a blue sky. She was cut off mid thigh in the mirror of the pool, and Mariah could see her smiling face and large black hair and her dog’s intent on attention. They exchanged greeting as her dog made a quick hole in the sand. The stranger waved about and spoke of the beauty of the morning and she dabbed her eyes as she went her way leaving Mariah to her Mantra.

Angel of the morning – don’t let me walk away.

Mariah was having the usual challenges of wanting to argue in my head with a few people, some present now and some far away. She had to bring herself back again and again to bless others and let go. She exercised, intuiting all the time what moves to make as she was saying her affirmation. She felt moved to kneel in the water and put the top of her head into the water to symbolically wash out her thoughts. She felt moved to dip in the ocean water, which was holding onto its temperate heat in the November sunshine. She felt up close with the Mother of all Water, as she was trounced around in the rolling waves at the edge and lifted high in the water swell when she want deeper. She exercised as a group of forty pelicans moved near the water top at her eye level undulating in a rhythm known only to them.

Pelican over waterfall in Meditation Garden at ARE

Nothing much happened to her except she had a glorious morning in the sunshine. She kept saying her mantra to have the Water of Life enter her. Mariah heard that when the Water of life enters her, there as a great rushing of many waters and the Power of the Earth Mother moves in her blood and stirs the Tree of Life, with the leaves for the healing of the nations and the fruits, one for every month available. This roaring of waters happens when the energy moves up the spine and into the head, when there is thundering and lightening and great hail. She felt ready.

Water of Life

Mariah had gone to different healers over the years, whose healing work would change her for a few days but she always insisted on slipping back to where she was, with crooked knees and clumpy muscles. But now she wanted to get inside her own head to bring about that healing fire and that rushing waters within her. She knew she had to consider her glands and her chakras and it was all she could do to focus herself there. She wanted the laws of healing to invade her space and usurp that which she reached to and held to, as necessary for her protection and survival.

It took a while sitting by the edge of the ocean in silence to realize she is not in charge of the healing – that she of herself cannot do healing – Only when she realized this, could the Healing Angel enter her. Then she felt the rays of the rising sun enter the center of her and spread into her. That is when she saw her body filled with the leaves of the color of burning, ruffling in a wind and that is when she came out in a fiery sweat and that is when she became still and knew the Angel of the Healing Morning Sun has entered her. She prayed for that growing to continue.

She carried the bread in the hedgehog bag

Some Tibetan Prayer Wheel Bread, Mariah made to bring to the beach with her.

She knew she might stay a few more days at the ocean to enjoy the weather and to further retreat so that she could find a deeper understanding of that Water of Life, of Air and of Breath. She was a little rosy from the sunshine, and tired and hungry and very much enjoyed the prayer wheel bread she baked before going to the beach. The end.

Rose went to the beach and heard some dreams from others on her travels and had some of her own, fighting off evil and calling on help to give her the water of life . She woke up kicking off the blankets and that black stuff and feeling glad of the help she was given as she broke the bonds of being held paralyzed.

If you would like to work on your dreams, your spiritual life and get some help with what is holding you in bonds be sure to schedule with me. I can be contacted through this site or through Psychology Today site. I know more than ever that dreams are there to bring you toward your own wholeness. They are not a mishmash of the previous day but that essential ingredient, that when considered, brings you past what blocks you from the Water of Life. I look forward to hearing from you. Love from Rose.

Posted in Chakras, dreams, meditation, revelations | Tagged beach, Chakras, drawings, dreams, healing ritual, song, meditation, mother, sunset | Leave a comment

Music is the Food of Love

Posted on October 26, 2017 by rlongwort

Playing music by the Wayne River

Music heals the wounds of love, the deep emotional ones. Music can jump start our days. The Blue Danube can be used for healing depression. Annie De Franko can get a Gen E-xer in touch with her wild coming out energy and reintegrate herself with her inner beloved. Music has a way of soaring us up into enchantment and into a knowing how to serve.

A light of helping

An everlasting light

Churches use it to attune to the Divine. Watch for when the Master comes in, lounging in a blue and white robe nearby saying “If you sing I will play.” He was said to have played the harp beautifully when on this earth. Of course the birds sing all the time.

As the soul sores into the human body for the next incarnation of self they come through the music of the spheres, the heavenly host music, and so music is in everyone’s soul. Some may close their ears on the way through or some may be geniuses with music. When I hear music I love I let it fill me as I imagine it.

Soul coming into the earth

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Music has always been associated with prayer. People insist on having their music played during surgery to ensure safety and healing in the process. I had my husband play the tin whistle as my son was being born. The tune and the words spoke of how the music comes down through the ages and is carried on in new forms.

Ancient place of prayer

Church in Midlands in Ireland

Prayers and candles on the Ganges at night.

Eastern Blue birds on this earth are one of my favorite birds to see. I saw a flock foraging in a tree in Hill N Dale Park. They are beautiful to watch as they make their quiet and melodious sounds. I had someone tell me they wanted to come back as a blue bird if there is reincarnation.

She is a blue bird already with blue angel wings. She is someone who played the piano/organ music all her life. She is enchanting to be around. She can play complex pieces with very little effort. She has spent a good part of her life learning, practicing and giving music to her part of the world, usually with many others present to hear her efforts. The world needs music as the world needs love.

My mother always kept her key board nearby. Photo from 90’s

My mother always played the piano and we her daughters were always gathered around her to put our timid voices into the vast church. My mother attended a center in Mullingar in her later years where she met and fell in love with someone her senior who was a great piano player. He would get her to sit beside him and they often played together. She continued to love his presence and went to see him when he was dying, singing to him and praying at his bedside. She was called upon to play the piano when catholic mass was held at the Mullingar Center. She led them all in song with the help of a retired priest.

My mother, at Melanie Lennon’s wedding with me, confessed to loving the Piano Player. She was in her eighties by then.

I can hear her now as she bent over the keyboard, sitting at the side of her bed, sending out great wafts of sound and singing along. In her nineties, we went up the avenue to walk and I brought her little hymnal with me and she knew all the hymns by heart, even in the Latin language, as that had been the language of the church in her youth. Her sweet and detailed notes are in the avenue banks still and hang over it in the branches and in the great wheels of primroses that bloom in the spring.

Mother on the avenue with her favorite cat, where she often sang and always said rosaries.

I found myself taking up the melodica when I got pregnant with my children. I would tackle my little practice book and play a few tunes, mostly imperfectly, during the whole pregnancy. As soon as the babies were born I would drop it again.

Early Pregnancy

Later Pregnancy sitting Riven River

All of my three children are profoundly musical and spent their childhood learning and practicing music. Annabeth has declared it her life work, teaching, playing for others and generally being involved with all kinds of notes. Once she had occasion to view her vocal cords and she was astounded at their delicacy, their light pinkness and their movement in song. I noticed she called her band mates “The Larks” recently. It triggers in me the memory of the Irish song about the lark singing in the clear air of the day.

Annabeth has been making music since she was in high school

I love to soar into some church songs. I sing and chant on a daily basis as a way of changing my vibrations, attitude and occupation. Sometimes I sing along with others but find the most benefit from making my own notes in meditation practice where I look for the secret places of the Most High.

Chanting on Kundalini Yoga retreat n late August in the early hours.

One morning early, as I was in my house with the windows open, a Hispanic man, working on the house across the road broke out in a loud clear tuneful voice in the Spanish language. It was a delight to hear and I stopped everything to hear his free concert. It was like watching a rose bloom, hearing the ocean waves and Chopin, Franz Liszt and Beethoven all rolled into one.

The last roses of summer

Someone has been painting the roses red at night

blooming alone

And if you want to develop your own blue angel wings and become more involved with music, especially the sounds that stream through your own vocal cords, be sure to join other music makers, and or sing to yourself in the middle of the night.

It has a way of dispelling fears, lightening the mood, bringing attunement to your neck of the woods and bringing pleasure to your self.

In the neck of the woods.

I continue to work with my own dreams when I am not sweeping them into hidden corners and creating drama with myself and others. They are always bringing those, who pay attention to the unconscious toward wholeness, something I clearly need.

From the dreams

She thought her homemade dress was lovely

You can contact me via this site or go to Psychology Today where I have been approved and my credentials have been checked. Psychology Today have a way to contact me by phone should you call me through their contact numbers. I love my chosen work of counseling and look forward to hearing from you whether you are a serious music maker or not, and whether you have dreams stashed in the corners or not. Love Rose.

Posted in dreams, meditation, Music, Uncategorized | Tagged drawings, dreams and meditation, Ireland, Love, mother, Prayer, wedding | Leave a comment

Leprechaun at the River

Posted on October 21, 2017 by rlongwort

Next day Mariah put on her shoes with the upturned toes and a bell on top and every time it rang a little she said, “I am.” She was on the old river path on a lovely warm fall day.

She planned a long walk by the river at The Springs where she might dip in the cold water and write a little and paint, while sitting on the rocks. She would have a forest bath by being out in the pranic air and a water bath in the mountain stream. She heard there was a door into the other world new here and she was looking for that too.

She through of truth versus the lie. If she was in the truth then she did not give her energy to the lie and she would be free. The lie was always nearby wanting to syphon off energy for its one uses. The lie is heavy to carry. She often duped herself into the lie that she and her world were mortal enemies that she was owned, or she was controlled in a great big collective way. This fear was only an excuse for the lie to gain control of her to prevent her from going on her true path and celebrating her life with love and joy and kindness every day. When dumped the lie shrivels up and dies. She wanted to walk out into love without letting the lie have the use of her. Sometimes she felt between a rock and a hard place.

She was tired and lay on a rock above the water. There she fell asleep and soon she was looking at the door in the rock and made herself ready to enter in.

She sat on a flat rock among the bubbling waters and started her prayers and chants so that she could have the experience of going through the door. When she was ready she got up and went over there and the door keeper asked her for the tool and she just knew that she had to leave down her head at the door. It did not seem to be any bother to do and she went in with her awareness looking out of her heart.

When she was in there her heart was connected into a sun that lit her up and she felt bright and connected to everyone else in there. There was a feeling of love running on the connections between them, which allowed the radiance to go in both directions. There was great delight as they experienced each other, because each person was different from the other. Depending on what their experiences were they brought different knowledge to each other as they opened themselves up.

In one connection she experienced the ability to see how that person travelled between the stars and what that felt like. Going to distant galaxies was more than she knew about so it was new to her. When she got to Pleiades with them she was offered time in the healing chamber and she was able to see how it worked on her bodies, all ten of them. She was the grey matter leave her all the way into her pink heart. She rotated until she reached a perfect place within.

In another connection she was able to go inside and travel into the cells and into the smallest units of matter. She began to understand gravity and how each cell is a small infinite black hole. She bounced like a ball around in the net and laughed and could see how her laughter would make its mark on the skein of space and time.

She could see how the collective, all putting their hearts together could heal her little blue planet, heal the forests, clean the rivers, harness the infinite energy, protect the great all. She felt powerful as she realized what was possible.

Trees huddled together

After a period of time she felt full of radiance, love and hope. Two of the beings in there helped her to find the door out again. After a ceremony of bowing and exchange and of sealing up her new knowledge, they came out into the lovely stream and she dipped in the water and breathed the air deeply and watched as yet more healing came into her body. She could feel the two sides of her body coming together. She was told to keep her secrets to herself, as no one would believe her.

She went home via the riverbed

Next thing she knew she was floundering around in the stream as she felt herself falling off the rock into a shallow pool that almost covered her. She took some deep breaths, wrung out her wet clothes, put on what was left of her warm dry ones and got ready to go home. She went home via the riverbed and carried her shoes with the bells to let the water drip out of them.

As she went her way she looked forward to the concert this evening in the glen, as it was a warm dry evening. She knew all the instruments and the players would be collected there and they would be singing such songs as Mirror Eyes, In the Garden and Honey comb Heart. Uishneach would be in his element as there was nothing he liked better than a good concert. Mariah also hopped she would hear the new Canyon song those women who called themselves Larkspur might sing.

Right side of brain exercises

The end.

When Rose woke up that morning she was in a pickle about arranging a house concert for her daughter. She worried about her house being too small and the crowd being too big or the other way around. And letting them all know it was on…She would let it go and let the notes fall where they may. She was sure the music sounds would do her and her home a lot of good and clear out all the unstable vibes. November 11 might be the date for it.

Gravity for the leaf coming down

She listened to a video on u-tube about gravity and loved the narration by Jean-Luc Pickard (Patrick Stewart) and the scientist, Nassin Haramein involved in the discovery of how gravity works. His numbers are slowly lining up into perfection – sacred geometry that has the power to change everything all over again. The scientist was upset as the old guard was blocking his discovery but it will not remain under a bushel for long as the new young ones with haul it out, it is burning so brightly. It included the idea that we, humans have a part to play, a choice to make in how things are. She was full of optimism for the future.

Soul coming into the earth

A blue door

She brought in all the plants because of the frost. Her Christmas cactus continues to put out lovely pink blooms. Her other one, which stayed inside during the summer is not in any rush to bloom so she is looking forward to two beautiful plants blooming at different times.

And if you want to make the journey between your own inner and outer worlds, the unconscious and the conscious, increase your awareness and find out what is truth for you then contact me through this site. And if you want to bloom, whether early or late, be sure to come visit me with your dreams, your active imagination, your optimisms, your knowledge of yourself and we can look at how co-creation can happen in the here and now. Love to hear from you. Love from Rose.

Posted in dreams, Leprechaun, meditation | Tagged drawings, dreams, flowers, Love | Leave a comment

Leprechaun – Truth or Lie

Posted on October 16, 2017 by rlongwort

Mariah had a few clan’s people who lived in the close vicinity to her. She was very close with Roisin Dubh prior to her union some years back. But since that time she often felt on the outs with her and she puts up with it gently as Roisin now had to cleave to her new leprechaun, Seano, and Mariah did not feel wanted and needed in the old ways. She was basically happy for her for the most part. She would let it go if that door was locked to her on occasion. She understood the inconvenience of the unexpected visitor, the third wheel.

It was easy to have a misunderstanding

And if Roisin says that she wants Mariah to stay away from her festival, that Mariah does not even know is going on, then she has to swallow it. She notices how it pulls up the rags and bones of rejection in her heart and gives her plenty to chew on. Cough, spit, release and let go she says. There is nothing else to do. The bones will only cut up her throat and the rags, who wants rags in the heart? When she heard she should stay away her heart felt crisscrossed, chopped up, a frozen lick. Like when her grandmother left her in the cold place when she was a year old. Now she remembers she is no longer a year old and she is not cold and not going to this festival is fine. It does not suit to have Mariah wandering in off the beaten path without an invitation when she is outside the realm of Roisin’s immediate family plans. It is ok.

Sometimes she was just seeing a reflection

She meditated in the night considering the whole thing and not considering the whole thing so she could get really silent in herself. If only she could pull the pain of dislike, the caul, over her head and lay it on the floor so it would not be inside in the way, between her and the pale blue rippling light.

A leaf units way down through the blue light

She through of the truth versus the lie. If she was in the truth then she did not give her energy to the lie and she would be free. The lie was always nearby wanting to syphon off energy for its one uses. She often duped herself into the lie that she and Roisin were one and the same, with the power with her as she was older. The feeling of rejection is only an excuse for the lie to gain control of her when they are on separate but authentic paths on that day and they both can be in the truth of celebrating their own lives in different ways. When dumped the heavy lie shrivels up and dies. She wanted to walk out into love without letting the lie have the use of her.

Thinking about that bacon

She sang the mantras that lit up the rags in the heart, that washed them so she could string them up as many rainbow colored prayer flags, sending out good wishes for the festival. And there is not that many more years until she is a pile of bones herself. She felt herself relax in the process. She wanted to know the Love that loves her so. She let it come near to her. She would send a present when the time was right. She left something down and out of her head and was at peace.

Memory from before time began

And if she had to go back to the memory before time when they were together and delighted in each other, she would. She was sure they were coughed out by the Great Spirit together and have remained in the same clan ever since. The end.

When Rose got up that morning she trundled off on her bike to the Farmers Market to see if she could have a loving crab cakes for her breakfast but the cooks forgot to bring for her their delicacies that morning. Rose had to let go and go on gathering up her greens, carrots, rhubarb, eggs and other supplies for the week.

Mandala

Rhubarb is sour

She was invited to a poetry and pie party in November and she might bring along these poems:

Drinking tea at the red lights

It is raining hard

Student carries her sandals

Under her umbrella

Wet fit tan legs glisten

Out of short shorts

On stoney ground

she lifts her bare feet fast

Followed by long black boots

Soon gone from sight

After the rain the river runs again

He stands on the other side

One among many

Dressed for himself

Close fitting berry cap

Priestly and black

Short trimmed out dark beard

A chiseled face

Arms are biceps defined

Beneath a tight fit shirt

And slender pants

He glances at another

She glances at him

Dress for yourself

Just this once

With head beam

For the golden truth

Raining down

Oh that she could dress

for that slender truth

Not to carry the lie

Glancing to that alone

Glancing at another

Seeing that in them

That Love that loves them so.

The end.

Pictures from Rawley Springs

If you would like to work with where you are feeding your energy be sure to schedule an appointment for yourself. I am well qualified to help with this having learned the side step as a young girl in Ireland and now at this time pinning myself into the corner, into the hologram of truth a little more often. We both may find ways not to be withholding from Love. With love from Rose.

Posted in dreams, Leprachauns, meditation, poetry, Psychoanalytic | Tagged drawings, Leprechaun, meditation, water, Watercolors | Leave a comment

Leprechauns and their Auras

Posted on October 11, 2017 by rlongwort

She went about her ways trying to polish up her aura as best she could. She knew her aura was that light that shone about her as she lived her life, getting darker with black moods and lighter with loving thoughts and meditation. Sometimes she had a sense of it.

Sitting with the grass

Drinking brews

Junk pods

She was temped to eat the grass, the brews and the junk pods but she knew that they would not do her aura any good. She knew that her aura did better when she ate the green tendrils and blackberries from the banks of hedges everywhere.

Black berries

Green tendrils

If her aura was brighter her knees would be less stiff. She wanted to persuade her knees to stop turning altogether. She was never sure which way they were turning, in or out, but she knew they were coming together in a most disagreeable way. Her friend MaryAnn espied her in the distance one day and laughed a lot at her knees saying they were “bowing” out. Mariah suppressed a little rage at this and hid it all beneath a pained smile and longer clothes. She muttered to herself, “Those who love you love you, and those who don’t, May the Lord turn their knees and you will know them by their limping.” She hoped her aura and her knees would escape a downward turn even as she made her little red wish.

The Knees

She liked to say a mantra to increase the width of her aura to nine feet wide in every direction. She had to imagine it as she did her exercises. This involved imagining her aura going out through all four walls of the bedroom. She would end up half way across the dining area, out over the bath into the yard and out into the front porch. If all came together correctly, she might be able to see outside the box room she was practicing in and see Uishneach as he took his nightly bath, scrubbing his round white head, working the bubbles into his parts and laying back down for a rest in the lovely waters, and smiling to himself as he thought of his gold. She was never sure she was doing this right but she practiced often, full steam ahead.

Uisneach after his bath, Mariah practicing her aura expansion

Mariah adapted a little girl with the flaxen hair called Annamarie. A long drought was over and the nearby stream filled the swimming hole again with water and it was flowing over the stones. They went there together to gather clay from the bank and put on beauty masks. Annamarie made mud tattoos for fun. Mariah leaned forward, a willing subject.

Mud tattoos

Annamarie made some river monsters with the stones and they both went for a swim to wash and cool off. Tiny fishes nibbled their feet. Then the sunshine warmed them up.

The river monster eating a leaf or two

They both agreed that this relaxing activity left them feeling bright and pleasant. When they met Annemarie’s father he played some lovely notes on the beautiful instrument that had five holes, played by his fingers.

The music maker puts everyone in tune

The notes came into the air full of love and lift. Annamarie was learning the tunes from him. Being in tune had a good effect on everyone’s aura. Everyone who heard it brightened up.The end.

When Rose got up that morning she remembered a dream of being back in her home place in Ireland. A rowdy black bullock nudged her on the knee as it galloped around her excitedly.

A not so rowdy cow

The home place

Rose was working with her car, which had turned into a convertible that had a bicycle seat that was wet. The car was low to the ground and had no top. Her handbag was missing and she was late for work. Rose had to propel it herself. She had to drive it up the stairs to the landing.

She interpreted it as telling her that her moods are influence by what happened in her home place as a small child. “Not that again” she thought. “I though I solved all that.” Then she remembered she had been in a mood the night before. If she remembers that, that kind of mood is from when she was little, and shift out of it again, that she will be truly converting herself and getting along on her own steam. Her old identity(handbag) is not needed and she will not be late for the work that is hers to do.

The rowdy black animal that gently nudged her knee from her dream

She was glad that the drought was over and that it was raining again after many weeks of lovey blue dry weather.

The Christmas Cactus is blooming a little early his year

If you would like to polish up your aura, bloom a little early, consider your black moods, conflicts, your spiritual calling, your soul, spirit, mind and body then come work with me. I see people in my home during the week. I am not available on Tuesdays. Love from Rose.

Rose Longworth LPC

Teacup Mandala

The last roses of summer

The eruptions in the psyche can be like volcanos.

Self portraits can be fun

Love from Rose

Posted in dreams, Leprechaun, Uncategorized | Tagged anger, aura, dreams, flowers, Interpretation, leprechauns, River | 5 Comments

The Leprechauns and The Negalmankies.

Posted on October 5, 2017 by rlongwort

The Leprechauns and The Negalmankies.

The Negalmankies

When Uisneach discovered Mariah had thrown out his Negalmankies, he was livid. He felt she had vandalized his place and had taken what was his. The day had come to mend them and then he discovered they were missing. He stood there, arms pressed to his side, asking if she had thrown it out and when she had said “yes,” he put his right hand into the air above her and cursed at what he saw was his personal loss, her act of vandalism.

She got rid of his property – he was not happy

He even stomped his feet. She quickly said she would replace it, as she did not like to see him frothing at the mouth. She had no idea where she would find other Negalmankies for him and she felt certain resentment toward replacing it.

She only wanted good chi in the house

She was just trying to remove the bad chi from the house, of something that was essentially broken. Why he had to make such a fuss was beyond her. He said he has one new rule and it is that Mariah cannot throw anything out belonging to him, broken or otherwise. He loved his Negalmankies and now had come upon the resources to mend them. She suspected him of needing to make some bad vibes between them.

His mother and family

It reminded her of his mother and her unreasonable ways with her in the past. If he were not careful he would end up like her. She did not consider that what she did was a bit unreasonable until she aired her grievance with others. They told her to replace them quick and soon. “Humph” was all she said.

Some of her friends.

When she tried to see if any blame could be laid at her door relating to his loss, she wondered if her resentment about the loss of her quilt had played into the whole thing. She knew that hidden resentment could end up in a bad judgment that would turn out sour for her. And that night she dreamed that she had a problem with addiction and that she was being treated, was getting better and taking good care of herself. Yet she saw that the girl treating her was holding an old bottle of port wine behind her back. She was divvying it out to all the people on the porch and it was called “Port on the Porch.”

She had to think about this dream a bit and eventually concluded that she was less than honest with herself in the way she was treating him and decided to apologize and replace his Negalmankies for him without any more complaining.

The head dwarf

She told her story to the dwarves, with whom she engaged to remake the Negalmankies. As they hobbled them together, the head dwarf ventured that she should return them to Uisneach in a broken fashion or even make it in some hidden broken way. She laughed and laughed at this idea. Her shadow side was delighted at this vision.

Her shadow side could not stop laughing

She had to have a long talk with herself about what her goal was in the relationship, what would be the gold to be obtained from this. She told the dwarf to make them fair and square or he would not be paid his gold pieces. He said, “humph” but agreed to do as he was asked and he went off in his overlarge blue shoes to get the right materials to complete the project. She resolved to supervise him and his crew, as they worked.The end.

Roses on the tea table

Rose woke up that morning after a day working hard at her new “one day a week job.” She made a cup of tea and that helped with her mood. She was sorry she missed the best part of her blooming Cirrus. It only lasts a few hours. It was closing by the time she noticed it. The photo of last years Cirrus graces the top of her home page. It creates a delicate flowery smell in the room as it closes.

She wondered about the dream she had and was reminded to paint on the porch more, as that was her inner work, her port on the porch, to her unconscious.

She went to the Festival in Hallandale Park and enjoyed it and above are some pictures of her friends, Marlyn and Dee and the dancers. She was on the front page of the Daily News Record newspaper on Monday Morning, showing her dancing with the Aztec dancers.

Rose Dancing in Hillandale Park with the Aztec Dancers

She completed a Mari Card Reading for a client. Over a period of a week she wrote 2,500 words and was amazed that even in the last revision she noticed something she had completely missed earlier. She was glad for that and for the heart connection evident in the lovely color that was all over the client’s selections. Drawing a Mandala is also part of the process and was reflected in a shape of one of her card selections at one of the stages. She is excited to e-mail it tomorrow to her client.

Teacup Mandala completed on the Porch by Rose

Rose has just obtained her final certificate completing her Mari training started in 2004. The psychoanalytic nature of this Mari tool was a great attraction to her, working with drawings, colors and shapes. Including clients’ dreams gives an added dimension and weaves completely into the process.

Certified Mari Practitioner

And if you are interested in a Mari Card reading, I have endless energy for writing up such psychoanalytic findings with an insight gained from forty years of working with color, art, dreams and combining it in a psychoanalytic way. I feel that I can bring you a new vision of where you can go with inner work. The Cards also have the ability to change your direction even as you select cards bringing you past an impasse stalling you for some long time.

Mandala

I look forward to hearing from you. Love from Rose

I have been practicing as a Licensed Professional Counselor since 2004

Posted in dreams, Interpretation, Leprechaun, Mandalas, Mari Card Readings | Tagged Certification and License, drawings, dreams, flowers, Leprechaun story, Watercolors | 3 Comments

Rose Longworth Counseling

A Flying Dream and Physical Therapy

The Train Story from the Big Apple

Poetry

A trip to the beach

The Leprechaun and Water of Life

Music is the Food of Love

Leprechaun at the River

Leprechaun – Truth or Lie

Leprechauns and their Auras

The Leprechauns and The Negalmankies.

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