Solstice and Advent

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It is Advent, a time of renewal and it is Solstice, a time of change. It is the time of the return of the light. It is the time of the birth of the new. Our sun lines up with its great central sun giving us a great connection to our light and heat source. Many make a practice of praying and meditating in this time as they feel there is great power in these connections bringing about personal change.

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Morning sun on the pine tree

I have always prayed. One of my first memories of prayer was of my father on the night before the cattle sale in Moate, Ireland. I knelt beneath my father, who was almost standing as he laid his knees against a soft armchair, his feet on the ground, his body facing the chair, the chair in the corner and with his brown beads in his roughened hands. We all joined in a “a decket of the rosary” devoted to his task of getting a good result when he brought some of his cattle to the mart. My mother initiated the prayers, and I, with a sincere love for him joined in, putting all my devotion into the asked for end of all his raising and nurturing of his cattle.

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A friendly cow

He loaded up his trailer with four or five animals, which always was a fretful event to a child looking on. He used a stick and loud shouts to coarse the animals into the small space. My mother would be there, gesturing and cajoling the animals. They knew my parents as they had fed them with warm milk from buckets, twice a day, when they were babies. My father visited them in the fields, watching their progress as they ate the green grass, growing itself and growing them, as he counted them daily.

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He built a special pen for loading the cattle into a trailer attached to his tractor. The ground was raised to meet the back of the trailer, which would be backed into this space. He would put some hay down to deceive them into thinking it was their usual shed they were entering. Slamming them in there was always a big relief. These lovely looking cattle were, hand raised, settled into their confinement quickly. Then he would be off on the road early, bouncing on the big wheels, to the Sales. He always came home from the sales, happy with his price and with a bag of toffee candy to divide among us.

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My mother loved her farm

As a child I always prayed for my mother’s “Aunt Rosie and Uncle Pat” daily as they had died of TB. My mother had a list of those she prayed for and I now have my lists. After meditating, a time of silence, of contacting my source, I then surround with light those who are on my prayer list, who have asked for help. If they have not asked for prayer, then my intention is to light them up where they are and others will be able to notice them and bring them help, healing that they need. When my mother prayed for her grown son, who was ill in the hospital at the time, with no resolution in sight, she went into her church and I was beside her. I could hear her whispered pleadings. Her prayer was answered. The doctor was surprised at his complete recovery.

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I often put someone firmly in the light, put the light into them or surround then with the light, without taking responsibility for any outcome. If a person asks me for prayers I can send them directly the light from the third eye, the pituitary,  in the forehead. If that person is specific about what what they are dealing with then I can get on board, e.g. revising the book they are writing or resolution of something difficult in their lives. I often ask my chosen congregation to “lift up in the light” what it is I am concerned about. I feel they have a better way of doing this than me as I may be weighed down with my fears about the situation. I always felt helped in the wake of such requests.

Today at 11.30 am the sun is lined up with the earth and with its central sun and will start another tilt that starts us back toward the light of Spring and Summer. I was anxious today to be out for the rising sun and got out before eight o’clock. I wanted to feel for myself this lining up and these connections out into the vastness of time and space. As the sun splashed free of the house hiding it, it was a magnificent burst of light onto me as it became full round. In the silence I smiled and bathed in the fire of the sun on my front porch.

As I sat there listening to the sounds of the morning, the birds, the train, the clock striking eight, I was brought to the fact we are all suns in ourselves. Our chakras are our planets and we are affected by this central sun of ours in deep ways. Mentally it helps us with sleep, and healthy bones and with good moods. Inside our bodies are littler suns within our cells and on down, into smaller and smaller units. We are indeed in a great mystery garden, infinite and eternal.

The hawk sat in a tree waiting for the sun to come up also. Earlier I could see the sun glancing off his chest up there on the high branches. He chose to ignore the six crows making a threatening racket within feet of him. When I saw him spread his wings and fly away, he brought with him the rays of the sun, catching the underside of his body moving gracefully through the branches, and it was easy to see that he was using such energy to keep himself aloft and in charge of himself even in the midst of a murder of crows.

I hope you can feel affected by this changing of our tilt, and can feel the transformation, the new birth within. May you have a dream of the birth of a new baby, getting you into traveling mode for your own Bethlehem, where Angels sing to you and where you are bathed in a great light from such transformation. Be sure to sit in the vibration of that tilt and that light until you realize that you do have a part to play in tilting yourself solidly toward the light you carry in secret.

If you want to discuss such tilts and or dreams about them, then be sure to contact me, where I will be very happy to consider your dreams and your efforts toward becoming more full of light.

Happy traveling, Happy holidays, Happy Christmas.

Love from Rose.

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Rose enjoying the winter sunshine in Hill and Dale Park, in Harrisonburg.

 

 

 

 

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The Leprechaun and her Ego

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The bell used by my granduncle Father Bernie in the oratory at his parochial house when he said mass there. As children we rand this bell during the mass.

Mariah entertained a friend, Roisin Dearg,  who was visiting from out-of-town. They had a fine time going around together for a few weeks. Mariah wanted her to tell dreams but she kept them to herself. She wanted Mariah to study the I Ching. They stayed in their friendship, walking, going to the river, playing games and eating some meals together.

At the end before her departure, Mariah left a note for her grumbling about this inability to see her to say goodbye properly and also said she appreciated her. Rosin Dearg then yelled at her and said Mariah was very petty and Roisin Dearg turned on her heel and left . Mariah got a fright as it was unexpected and had a feeling of leaving her body and could not sleep very well that night.

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She had lots of words to say to herself and to her absent friend. She went into a number of prayers but found herself time and again as busy as an airport terminal, where the thoughts were checked for weapons and many things were confiscated. She prayed for help to understand why all this had happened.

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Dream images by Rose

She had a dream of a number of children lined up against the wall and the one girl, was in the middle of them, with so much beautiful strawberry blonde hair, plaited down her back. The father was in front of them all lecturing them in a loud mean voice. She did not hear the words but felt how his words were hitting the wall and the group of children and one in particular. This central child left her body in spirit to avoid the onslaught.

After this dream Mariah could no longer hear the sound of the words of her friend as if they no longer were up close and personal with her. It was easier to go into silence toward morning and to feel peace come.

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Meditation candle burning down and giving off a sweet glow in the half light.

She then slept late and spent the morning sitting in a warm sunshiny corner soaking up the sun, as the shortest day of the year approached. The place was quiet and the sun itself seemed to be the thing of beauty shining on everything warming her up through her many layers. A black-capped chickadee sang his little song from the nearby tree.

The cat stared balefully at Mariah. He was not friendly to her but choose another place in the sunshine nearby. For some reason that cat seemed to leave his body when he saw her too near him and often rushed away if she got into his space or made any noise.

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She fancied the cat had a bad experience with others in the past and was taking no chances on trusting her, running away when she got too close to others.

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The following morning Mariah decided to read the I Ching books a bit outside as the sun had come out warming the porch. The cat was snuggled up on a chair that blocked the wind. The cat jumped up in alarm as she pulled open the door but Mariah tiptoed on out and the cat gradually got lower and lower in the chair until he was not visible to her, sunk into sleep and cushions. Mariah was happy she had not alarmed him this time into running away. When she got to the I Ching there were a lot of words in there, as there was in the Bible she read earlier.

She sat back and wondered what her next move to understand better would be. Some of the words from the I Ching made her consider how her ego had become large in the whole affair above, and was swinging around in general in her life.

Helpers from the I Ching had her look at the dream again

Somewhere she got the idea to look again at the dream as applying only to herself, Mariah. She thought of how she was her father’s girl and identified so much with him. Her inner man, her Animus, was more than influenced by him, it was grown up by him, his attitudes and his opinions. Once again they will not serve her very well when she lets them be her rule of life. She would have to give birth to her father out of the side of her head, get rid of her half grumbling, half selfish self.

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She was the one lecturing the young spirit of the feminine in her, goddess in herself, making her feminine side leave her body and letting him have his lectures, pinning her to the wall with attitude and grumbling opinions about what others should be doing, pushing her out of her body, high up, and not in touch with her heart.

She sat in her heart in silence for a while as she felt the shift inside from being in the left side of her brain into a balance with the right side. Now she could go on into the remainder of the day in a more balanced place. The end.

Rose got up a little early to see a stormy sunrise. She stayed in for a while as she got all those exercises done that were given to her by her Physical Therapist. The more she did them the better she felt. She also had huge resistance to doing them and sometimes days went by without doing them. She wondered if she was having animus opinions about healing herself further. She would end the writing with some silence, and hold her lapis lingas for a few minutes. She loved how its dark blue glistened in the sunshine.

 And if you have a few dreams that you have been pinning to others and letting yourself off the hook, be sure to contact me and we will see if we can investigate the animus opinions which are always right and never helpful to us. I look forward to working with more of you. May Peace be with you. May you be able to sink beneath the level of the cold wind as we go through this winter. May the cold wind of the ego miss you completely. Love from Rose.

(I have a business license and a professional counselor licence and can be found as a listing of one of the Counselors in Harrisonburg in Psychology Today, where all my particulars can be perused.)

 

 

 

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The Leprechaun and Heart as light as a Feather

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Mariah went her way toward the local town Mota Grainne Oige. She felt the need to get away from the view of the hedge and start on a long walk. She decided to visit with a friend and rest for the night there. She dreamt she was far away in a strange country looking at the writing on the wall of a great tomb of a great king. She was able to interpret some of the detail of the dream. It was about the heart having to be weighed, on weighing scales, after death. The heart on one side of the scales and a feather on the other side and if the heart was as light as a feather, flying out into the stars would be easy, heaven was assured.  The writing on the wall with exact instruction on what to do to get back to heaven, to get the heart as light as a feather, became increasingly more difficult to read, and she ended up with little clue of the wisdom of that dream. Still she had something to go on and so when she woke up she resolved to look for the lightness of heart needed at the end of life. She had a little ways to go yet.

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On her journey again she could think for herself about what made her heart light as a feather. When a baby made a little noise to get her attention and a smile crossed the baby’s face, when she caught those sparkling baby blue eyes, she knew she felt as light as a feather. A Quiddler game with her sisters, in which she threatened to enlist the help of the other players to beat up one sister, made her as light as a feather, as they all screamed with laughter. The full super moon coming over the horizon and the night sky full of stars was also marvelous at making her feel light. Being in nature and outside lightened her up too. The ocean and its ions also made her full of delight. Listening to a child singing with a group, out of tune, but totally yelling out the song, irrespective of the notes, also make her heart light with laughter and delight. The background music supplied by the other singers added to the delight as they went on their merry way of creating a joyful noise, melding the in tune and out of tune together. The un-programmed making its way into the programmed brought joy and beauty. Seeing into the meaning of a dream, also made her heart light. Her plants made her happy too, especially when they bloomed in the winter.

Other possibilities to make the heart light involved prayer and meditation, trying to get a leg up onto a higher dimension. She often felt full of smiles after a significant sit in the middle of the night or at dawn. She asked the angel of the air to fill the heart chakra with the air of life to lighten her up. The angel of the water of life could wash out all the heavy stuff, cleaning out the Aegean stables of the heart with one flood of this water. And the angel of the sun could enter and fill the heart with fire to burn up all the rubbish laid in there, setting the heart on fire with passion and love, leaving nothing in there but a stream of golden honey sweet love for all that came her way. Surely there was an angel of light too that could blind her to all that make her heart heavy and give her that light that made the heart light. She resolved to be more silent in the silence so that she could find that way toward the right way, where the truth of this love light, lightness and life resided in her. What made her heart heavy would be gone.

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As she strolled toward the town she decided that when she went back home she would see what would make her heart light at home. Sometimes it was easy to be light in the heart in meeting the stranger or going on travel but she would have to see if making the heart light at home could be done, where no one knew all that goes on, not her mentors, or friends, where the intimacy of a combined life jostled their hearts loose and all that made the heart heavy and it might be found at their feet, and what made the heart light would be in their hearts.

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She got some supplies in town and then visited with the druid Bernie who was willing to talk about the lightness of heart for hours. He finished up out in his garden, his hands all covered with the black turfmould earth, in which he was planting tulips of many colors. He said that if people could only know, if families could only see that love was the only thing of importance in all the land, benefiting their children’s children. A big tear ran down his cheek. He gave her a big hug and bid her a warm good by for the road promising to visit her another time.

She sat on the banks of the river for a rest. She was trying to hear what the rocks were saying about writing on the walls and the gossip of the river on its way. The River said, “We are one. I take the rocks into me and the rocks said we give ourselves up, getting smaller and smaller so we can be dissolved and go into the great ocean in specks.”

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She thought she saw writing on the rocks and it said to take care to dissolve what is so hard and be less and less until she is more and more in the great River of Life. She had fallen asleep again and the writing was only in her dreams.

She felt the ending of the year coming around as she mulled over her dreams and her walkabout. Maybe someone would ramble into her house with a lovely story of other walkabouts and writing on walls and help explain everything to her. The sun was almost down now and the musicians would be getting ready to sing and play for the evening.

Maybe someone will sing a song about love and transport her into lightness. She looked forward to the evening. The end

When Rose got up today the snow was falling and three different things fell down, some plates, the shell on the fountain and something else. She thought it was a sign to get her writing finished about the writing on the wall. It fell into place and nothing else fell down.

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Sushi, a dog Rose got to know and love this Fall.

And if you are interested in that part of your psyche that gives you dreams, those perfect pearls that are yours alone, input from your very own unconscious,  then you can leave me a message.  I look forward to hearing from you soon. Those dreams are your writing on the wall waiting for you willing attention to something that is the answer to what ever it is you need next to pay attention to, so that your heart can be as light as a feather, when you go through the pearly gates. Look forward to seeing you soon. Love from Rose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A Flying Dream and Physical Therapy

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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.

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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.

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.

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.

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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.

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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.

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Cooling off the knees in a Hymalayan River

 

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The Train Story from the Big Apple

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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.

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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.

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.

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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.

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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.

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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?

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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. 

 

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Poetry

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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.


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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A trip to the beach

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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.

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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.

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.

 

 

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The Leprechaun and Water of Life

 

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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 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.

 

 

 

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Music is the Food of Love

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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.

 

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.

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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.

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.

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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.

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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.

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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.

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.

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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.

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.

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Leprechaun at the River

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

 

 

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.

 

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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.

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.

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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.

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.

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