Rose Longworth Counseling

Beads – Psychoanalytic and Body Work

Posted on May 26, 2017 by rlongwort

I was half asleep on the massage table, and my session was over; body work of reflexology and of “unwinding my arm”.

Ceramics by rose, flowers by Goddess

My arm had been tightening for the last couple of months. As I became awake, I dreamed/half saw the navy blue marbles, grape like and alive, that flew out of my shoulders and on to the floor in all directions. I was puzzled but kept referencing the scene, as I know that there was numinosity in this happening and it would deliver something to me if I paid attention to it.

Similar in color to beads I saw

A writer’s exercise had me write about an object from its point of view, and I choose some beads. I pretended that they were the rosary beads that were held in the hands of Marian, my partner’s deceased wife, when she prayed the rosary. I have those beads and my partner told me Marian specifically prayed a rosary with them for me at 2.00 a.m. every night, after she met me, a few years into her marriage.

The beads that Marian used to pray for me, nightly at 2.00 am.

A complete rosary takes about 15 minutes, with 54 individual prayers involved, depending on the person saying the prayers. In fact she left her marriage bed to do this for me for some years, until her illness interfered.

The beads are hanging on a candle holder.

It took three days after I saw the vision of those marbles to realize the message of the above. Meditation in particular this morning gave me the words “Sour Grapes” to go with them and I instantly knew what they were about. The “Ah ha” moment was upon me.

Mandala with marbles

The writing exercise triggered in me a poem about all my sour focus over incidences that happened in the sixteen years I was apart from my partner.

I was holding resentment toward a woman I met only once and continued with a type of chewing that was soured in my shoulders, even after her death. Those navy blue grapes, Concord, are sweet when you suck them into your mouth but have a bitter skin when chewed upon.

Poppy Center

The bodywork brought to the surface what was in storage in me. It is bitter in my bones and flesh and tightens and distorts me physically. Seeing that color in particular has the ability to help me change my focus. Actively engaging with the image was my work to complete the healing started by the bodywork, illuminated by the sour grapes poem and finally chased our with the light of meditation.

Beautiful Poppy

The bitter poem is now named as sour grapes. It is unlikely that I will start chewing on them again. That great navy blue color, dulled and almost black, was powerful right side of the brain medicine for me.

Violets from heaven

I will incorporate here the better sentiments from the poem:

I am the beads that survive Marian’s death, that sees him returned to where Marian thought he belonged. I am the beads that will be buried with Rose after her last breaths.

I am the beads that say they loved again, even better, in the short time that is left, a sweet sensor, not broken but held together by both their prayers before God.

May Marian rest in peace. I now appreciate her prayers for me. Very few people have consistently prayed for me, in the night, with cold feet over a period of years and I am now grateful.

Colors like this come from Heaven

A Recent Dream

The image above comes form dream work and art therapy around the male energy from an individual’s dream. The young man with the bag of fast food made a barter that went sour with the older male energy, where the older wants to eat the big cheeseburger belonging to the younger male. And of course the archetype of “The Fonz” is in the middle of it all, being hailed by the dancing woman. It was a lively and fun dream to work with, where there was a whole-hearted attempt to engage with the male energies. It can take some time to get to this sweet spot.

Ceramics I did years ago. I lost the top of the head and so I put some violets in there to cover the bald spot.

If you want to do a little drawing of your own sweet dream images, to see what it is that will lift you free of your own old greedy male energies, do come see me, so you can dance yourself over the blocks and all the while singing your own song, and dancing your very own dance, with your own Fonz or Marlyn/Mona depending on your preference. I look forward to hearing from you. Love from Rose.

Posted in dreams, Mandala, Visions, Watercolors | Tagged divorce, dreams, flowers, gratitude, interpreting, Love, meditation, paintings, poetry, Prayer | 11 Comments

Interpreting a Watercolor

Posted on May 23, 2017 by rlongwort

Interpreting of a Drawing with the Leprechaun, Uisneach.

When he was not out foraging, and looking at bees in the flowers, he liked to paint with watercolors. He had a place in the attic for this activity. When he had them interpreted, his wife liked to pour over them. He often slept through the best of the interpreting talk. After an initial start, of throwing water and paint at the paper, over the course of a week or two, the drawing developed, with brushes and with watercolors.

Unconscious Drawing

Sometimes Mariah would bring his drawings to The Interpreters, who had a gift of interpreting and describing the drawings. They lived in a community, where they enjoyed freedom to interpret. They had a drawing over the door with some words that were not clear to Uisneach.

Description and Interpretation of drawing by Interpreters

At the outside I see a sword on the left and one on the right. The swords asks “What has been going on here up until now” and “where are you going now.” The former question is hot and red and the latter is blue and cool. Intellect and instincts are together in the drawing.The swords are situated on either side of the drawing.

The big mask of the Persona has been left aside, in this drawing. The eye on the left is still letting off steam. It is looking into the past. The mouth looks like a whole country when you look in there.

The Mask

In the crescent moon, is a person, whose heads have been taken off as many times as the heads grew back, by the angel standing above the crescent moon. The angel has taken off the ever growing heads with swipes of the sword. In this work, when another head grew, he threw it in the corner at right bottom. There are many different versions of heads, thrown around the place, little red heads, “seven heads with ten horns.” Some are still animated but on the periphery, at the top center. On the body, in the crescent moon, is a young girls face that is upside down. She represents soul.

In the crescent

On the wing, which also looks like a river is a woman’s head, and she looks asleep, an Ophelia type, that still has to wake up. She is headed toward the Homunculus. She will wake up and be helpful when she falls in there.

What looks like the wing on the angel’s right side is a depiction of Sophia, Mary or Goddess, who is looking into the crescent moon from her blue hooded head. She is putting full attention on this part of the picture and will be inordinately helpful.

The virginal face in blue looking into upside down face.

Filling up the right bottom area is a male and female figure looking into a contained vessel, with interest and concern on their faces. They are surrounding the Homunculus. Down inside there are beings in exultation, waving their arms in the air. Their heads may be missing. The three red, hanging fingers need some attention too.

Looking into and in the Homunculus

The wheels under the crescent red moon, are Ezekiel’s wheels. There are two of them. They are getting things moving.

Ezekiel’s wheels

The angel, with impassive face, has a wing spread out to the right of the picture.

The right sides of the hearts are lighter than the left sides. Something between the hearts, possibly, keeping them from lining up.

Green Hearts

The top left is filled with green sea creatures, alert and alive. That green on the top left, is part of the whole picture, foundational energies, underpinning the beginning of something new.

Behemoths

The blood red is that of sacrifice, of giving up in order to gain the inter dimensional space to get to the place of getting back into the garden, heaven, which is all around about us.

They were all tired after this interpretation and has some tea to revive them.

The end

Baskets at the Co-op

When Rose woke up the next morning, she set about looking at her art piece and interpreting it.

She went around and around and in the end, embraced it, as having come from her unconscious, happy that she had not involved her conscious mind in the process of drawing.

A sense of contentment came over her as she settled in meditation. At the end she felt a line of white energy streams encircling her trunk, making a bright space in her day. She finished up meditation with some prayers for her relatives who live near Manchester. The little bit of news she heard that morning, was terrible news from that city. She was not sure if she is listening to the right news but she is sure she is saying the right prayers.

And if you want to bring your scratching that look like drawings, and your dreams that are tall tales, please bring them to me in my front room where I will be happy to be the Dream Analyst to your question and answer swords.

Yellow kettle repurposed

Posted in Drawing the Dream, dreams, Interpretation, Mandala, Mandala interpretation, meditation, Watercolors | Tagged dreams, flowers, interpreting, meditation, paintings, Prayer, Right side of brain activity, Watercolors | 1 Comment

Labyrinth and Leprechaun

Posted on May 19, 2017 by rlongwort

He feels like he is not getting anyplace but dreamed of two places and they were marked with an x in his dream. The only place that came to mind was the Labyrinths and as there were two in his area he decided to visit both.

The Labyrinth at EMU

When he got to the first one, the stones seemed blue and there was a wealth of clover and other low growing plants on the Labyrinth path. He took off his boots, the better to feel the soft plants and in order to be connected to mother earth as he journeyed toward the center.

The Leprechaun boot

He kept watching the stones, as they hypnotized him into an altered state so that he could have some enlightenment at the center. He hummed some tunes also to himself.

When he got to the center he saw two beings at the edge of the Labyrinth. One was writing in a book and the other had a book of maps. They said that their belief is that the Goddess of Nature would come to the Valley and that she would come through the beautiful landscape and that people would be converted to a new sweetness and love for each other and for the land through her.

The Goddess of the Valley

He looked down at his feet

Feet on the Labyrinth

to see if this was real and when he looked up there was nobody there, only two shadows., that quickly faded.

Shadows only remained

The warm stones were under his feet and a lovely valley all around about, with the three ranges of mountains holding all in place. In this silence he forgot all about the gold and the mines and stared at redbud blossoms instead.

Redbuds blossoms came out late on what looked like a dead trunk of an old old tree at EMU

As he walked slowly home he thought about his wife and her bad mood that morning. She was grouchy, as he had taken the last two Lucy eggs for himself. He needed the eggs, and besides, they were the eggs of his favorite hen and she had promised them to him. His wife took them for her own without any permission from the hen or him.

Once there was one boss but now they love each other.

Laying eggs often

The well loved chickens

Mariah was in such foul humor that she went out to see the hens and to discuss the whole situation with them. Her ears and throat were still clogged up and sore and she had great difficulty hearing anything or making any sense of their “gawk gawk” noises. She was also hoping for some freshly laid eggs but it was still too early. Lucy seemed to understand about Mariah’s mood, which was not what she wanted to be displaying all day, as she went around by herself. The tea got too strong, the honey she used for sweetener, had honeycomb in it and was floating on top of the tea, and the milk would not mix well and a million little specks of white looked back at her from her favorite cup.

Tea cup from her mother’s china

She sat outside to sew and decided that the bear motif for the quilt was not working; he was the grumpy one. Three fledglings landed in turn near her. A tousled looking cardinal, a beautiful blue jay and a young mocking bird visited her in turn. The blue jay landed within a three feet of her, at her side and the cardinal was straight in front about 7 feet away. They noticed her grumpy eyes and not knowing her intent, these two flay away as soon as they could turn. The mocking bird found something to eat and sat right in front of her to swallow and look very satisfied with breakfast. She hooded her eyes and stayed very still so the mocking bird might tarry. She decided to try putting birds on her quilt. She was sure she had a pattern or two someplace that she could use.

The hawk and the little birds fly together

Drawing from a dream where a huge flock of birds came in the window to her bedroom to take up residence in her chest.

When Rose woke up the next morning her house was quiet and she jumped out of bed to start the day, as the sun seemed to be up high in the sky already. She had a poem wandering around in her inner brain and she wrote it down.

Three Birch Trees grow together

Three Birch Trees,

Grown together

Unfurl their skin,

To feel, to breath

To fly back

To the beginning

And she in vigil

Feels a veering out

Unfurling around her trunk

Licking her alive

Flung back

To her beginning

Young man from the dream

She dreamed of the young man who was slipping off her red quilt she was making. She dismissed it completely. That was enough contemplation for one day.

If you have some dreams that seem like labyrinths and would like to discuss the ins and outs of the whole circle of the dream, in an effort to find out what will make you love you, yours and your valley more, then be sure to contact me and I will be happy to walk to the center of yourself with you. Dream well and deep when you sleep. Love from Rose.

Posted in dreams, Ireland, Labyrinth, Leprachauns, Uncategorized | Tagged chickens, dreams, flowers, interpreting, Ireland, paintings, quilts, virginia | Leave a comment

Leprechaun Story 7

Posted on May 17, 2017 by rlongwort

Leprechaun Story 7

He got up early in the morning to see if he could find the mines, on another day, fresh and new. This time he found himself in the wetlands.

Wetlands at the Arboretum

He followed a stream and came to an opening where he wondered about going in, not sure if it was the entrance to the mine or not.

There were some strange symbols in blue and green at the entrance, which made him wonder if this deep place was already taken over by an unruly crowd. He looked down and saw a ring in the bottom of this opening far down.

He never was good with symbols and directions and decided to walk along the stream and to have his nap before he could decide about going into the mine. He found a lovely patch of clover and lay there eating some clover flowers, the better to sleep with and to dream. May be his dream would be helpful to him.

Clover field

Meadow

While he was dreaming he found himself on his wife’s quilt on his bed and he kept slipping off the bed.

The slippery quilt

He reached out for her but it was no use, he was still slipping. She reminded him, in the dream, that when her dog died years ago, she dreamed he slipped away, even as he tried to hold on to her with his paws, to no avail.

Monty dog as a pup

He decided against going back to the opening he found earlier with the symbols, as he decided his dream was full of bad omens and going home was the best option.

On his way he saw a huge white bear, that looked depressed and when he noticed it was sitting on a rock on what looked like his wife’s quilt, he did not tarry but stayed close to the water and ducks, who seemed friendlier.

Ducks enjoying

the water

This time he sang his song about “We all love each other already and we are all the same” on his way home. When he got home he found two musicians’s to play it for him.

The musician on guitar

and Harp

In his audience the old dwarf woman was polite and said “oh really” in a lisping way, and the man said that it was all very well for a song but he did not see it that way and that man’s wife said something rude out the side of her mouth, about her anatomy not being the same.

In the audience

His wife was too busy to listen as she was now in the midst of making a new quilt with appliquéd bears on it.

The start of a new quilt

That night he brewed up some of the clover he brought home and slept soundly and happily: tomorrow is another day he said to himself.

Clover field

The last thing his wife said was that she was happy he had put that rope back in the basement, as she was sick of seeing him carry it about everywhere and of finding leaves in her bed.

The end.

When Rose woke up the next morning she had a dream of a huge volcano starting up in her trunk and exploding, one two three, as it climbed up through her. She was thinking nuclear, as the image of the bomb exploding came into her mind to go with the dream. It was accompanied by huge sounds, thunderings, and waves of energy traveling, as it went up and up through her, in every direction. She was not sure where it stopped but her ears and throat was sore, as she pondered the dream, the next morning.

Explosion image

She felt her old self even as she wondered if she would be changed forever by such an awakening. When she realized she was the same old Rose, she found some clothes she had worn yesterday and wandered out on to the deck to sip some tea and get on with the day. She watched the crows in the top of the pine, where they had a nest.

Rose looking at the leaves on the quilt.

When she made the bed she noticed some dried out leaves lying between the sheets and wondered how they got there. She had been cutting the hedge a few days ago, but still it was a little strange that she only noticed them this morning.

Fair flowers at the Arboretum

Up close

And if you have some dreams about birds that fall apart, or find yourself in a boat with a hooded monk who pulls up questionable questions from out of the water, be sure to find me and I will involve the arts, and ask my own questionable questions until you laugh and until you pray in new ways, as those are your very own symbols, coming to greet you. Then you will be unlike the Leprechaun above, who was not able to read his own symbols, writing on the wall.

Writing on the wall

Love from Rose,

Posted in dreams, Leprechaun, Mandala, meditation, Visions, Watercolors | Tagged dreams, flowers, journey, Love, paintings, River, song, virginia | Leave a comment

Soup and the Leprechaun Story 6

Posted on May 12, 2017 by rlongwort

Leprechaun Story 6

Trees on the banks of the Wayne River.

The next morning he was interrupted by his wife, Mariah, who wanted him to help her put a bed skirt on the bed. He felt it was a profoundly unmanly thing in the first place and “a skirt for their bed,” really. He resolved to have nothing to do with it and escaped out the door before she could make too much of a fuss at him. He remembered his father’s looking for gold, at the end of rainbow, and he willingly went. He was looking for the mines again, as he though he would have more luck than his father.

On his way he came to the field of stones by the river Denore. After catching a salmon in the river, he cooked it hoping that this was the salmon of enlightenment, making it easy to find the mines again.

Catching a salmon was not easy

After eating his fill he prepared seven stones around his head in order to have a rest after the long morning of travel and to have a dream to help him.

STONES (Photo from India – stones used by Guru Nanak to measure out a portion for the poor)

He placed his head on the red sandstone in the middle. He thought the stones would surely know where the mines were situated as they had been there for millennia.

From the painting by Giotto called JOACHIM”S DREAM

Soon he was falling asleep and he vaguely heard the sheep and lambs walking around him as they cropped the lush springtime grass.

Light filled him in his dream.

As he slept he saw the stones become translucent and each one a different color of the rainbow all around his head. They then rose up and placed themselves, one above the other from red at the bottom to violet at the top, on the red sandstone, on which he slept. They emitted light and became brighter as they set themselves on the sandstone. He felt he became the colored lights. He remained upright on the rock for a long time. When he woke up he found himself shouting “We are all the same.” He looked around foolishly for the noise he was making and found he was in the quiet field with the stones and the sheep around his head as he had left them when he fell asleep. The silence was profound as he sat taking in his dream.

Sunset

The sun was going down as he headed for home. A song came to him as he paced himself to the beat of the words on his way home, shortening the journey for him.

When he got home his wife made some fine soup from the large salmon head and leftovers. She was quiet satisfied with his days work.

Salmon soup

They went for a walk and he told her about his dream. But she interrupted a lot as she spoke to stray dogs, cats, neighbors and babies. He gave up and refused to write the dream up on a Dream Leaflet that night but he did write down what he remembered of words of his song:

We are all the same

Above and below

In depth and doubt

In shame in joy

In tears in fight

In rest and employ

We are all the same

Boxes

Full of words

Bossed, in lead

High on head

Can heavy be shed?

Underfoot

Stumbling blocks

Down with the heft

All can be left

Step up

On Jacob’s stones

Crown

For our heads

Where it is said

We are all the same.

He found he had totally forgotten the tune but knew it might come back to him again on his travels when he was quietly walking by himself.

The end

When Rose woke up that morning she was in doubt about what way to take the day. The only bit of a dream she remembered was the woman wanting to get a bed skirt on to the bed. She did not think much of it. She finally decided to have the salmon soup for breakfast with some mushrooms she had acquired yesterday at the market.

Mushrooms

Carrots and chopped onion for soup

Then she felt satisfied to get on with her day, attacking the unruly hedge that had grown to seven feet high or more. She wondered if the hedge was a symbol for herself.

View of Hedge and Catalpa in the Summer Time

The Archway recently created with the help of Fred Lavy

Looking through to Catalpa tree

Here’s wishing you all the wisdom to know we are all the same and all one and that we all love each other already. If you want to schedule an appointment with me I will be happy to interrupt these rants in favor of real faces before me where we will explore how to even out what it is that makes the ride bumpy for us. Looking forward to hearing from you through this web page.

Love from Rose Longworth LPC

Posted in Drawing the Dream, dreams, Leprachauns | Tagged dreams, father, fish, hymn, interpreting, Ireland, journey, Light, Love, poetry, River, song, virginia | 2 Comments

I Will Bring It To You

Posted on May 11, 2017 by rlongwort

Not for tea any more

A sweet childhood memory linked to a dream I had recently.

I was upstairs in the far room in the double bed with the iron railings and brass knobs. I was alone, hardly awake. My father was in the kitchen putting turf into the fire and bringing the kettle to the boil. He intended to make tea and a slice of toast for me, from my mother’s home make bread, when this fire produced coals hot enough for the job. After the coals were red, he put a long slice of brown soda bread on to a carving fork and held it toward the heat. He waited until it was golden on one side before turning it around on the fork. He then buttered it with his own yellow homemade country butter and placed it on a tray for me. He made tea in the battered metal teapot, poured it out and laced it with two spoons of sugar and two of cream, stirring in love as it swirled around in a tin mug. When I had finished, I felt marvelous. I knelt up in the bed and shouted as loud as I could “I want more.” It is a long fall to the kitchen to be ignored.

Drawing of the dream

The Dream – I will bring it to you. I had the following dream after I meditated toward the morning when it was getting bright. I was in front of an altar again and a priest, black-haired and in red vestments, was behind the altar which I approached. I had a man behind me to my left. As we approached the altar, wanting to participate, I went up first. The priest stopped what he was doing and came toward me and said kindly into my face, as he put a hand on my arm, “ no no, I will bring it to you.”

Associations

Because the first chakra is associated with red and the priest is wearing red vestments I think my dream is linked to the first chakra, a place in the body represented by the pelvic bowl, my roots. From Revelations, the first chakra is the place of the roots of the Tree of Life, The Church of Ephesus, which has leaves for the healing of the nations, and fruits, a different one for each month of the year. How I live my life affects this first chakra. It is where I am remembering “my first love” my connection to God, and when I am not, I am using the gift of the white light from God “our daily bread” for my own selfish reasons. The priest, representing the Angel of the First Chakra, is ready to bring me something from the unconscious, a gift, “I will bring it to you.”

From the Unconscious

Other associations. When I was in India, I participated in the spiritual rituals regardless of which religion they belonged.

Prayers and candles on the Ganges at night.

Rose is very happy in the River Bain in India

Lay baptism

No body of Holy Water was safe from my baptizing others and myself. I dunked thirteen times, saying prayers. I was in the water at the beautiful and holy Golden Temple saying my christian prayers. When the song said “I go before you always” I noticed, with a laugh, that I want to be the one out in front. That may be the original sin. I have to be carful that I am not in “ I want more mode” when it come to the spiritual. This red priest will bring it to me, if I am patience. Wait in meditation. It is a promise to me.

Angel watercolor

Active Imagination

Active imagination is a way of letting the dream images talk to you. The conversation here is between the Priest and me.

I…“Priest in Red… What is your message for me?”

PIR… It is ready, and you are ready. Wait, be about your spiritual business, and wait on the Lord. If there is a hesitation about doing something, go with the instinct and do not do it. Your routine of staying at home, spending the day in your own rhythm, is what is helpful to bring you what you need.”

Rose… I try my best with the silence and waiting but am scattered in my thoughts.

PIR…No need to worry about the thoughts. As time goes by in silence, the stillness comes down on you, in your seeking. You have this experience coming through to you. It is being brought to you. When you drop down into the silence, this attention brings you to a higher dimension, and from there you receive what is prepared. The light touch of a feather is all you need. Turn yourself over in meditation, into Dao, into your spiritual side. It is from where you can sing and write and paint and listen and the activities of the day will have what is prepared in them.”

From lead to gold

Conclusion

The above active imagination is meaningful for me, as I write and pull my new “retired” life together. The impatience of wanting a practice full of people, of wanting a business, of getting kudos for what I can do with dreams, needs to be replaced with patience and silence. I have to be in the silence, until there is a flow that comes from the spiritual dimension. It comes distilled out to me from the unconscious. I am grateful for this little bit of insight.

May you find your own altar and your angels and may they bring you to your silence, so that you get the waterfall of green jade, ready to flow out of you and touch everything you love with smoothness beyond all. Waiting and Ready when you are. When I am not waiting in meditation, in writing, painting and concerned with the inner life, I love to see you. I can be reached through the navigation bar above.

Blowing in the wind in Coney Island. Picture by Frances Longworth

Posted in Chakras, dreams, Interpretation, Uncategorized | Tagged chakra, childhood, dreams, father, interpreting, Love, meditation, memories, Our Father., paintings, revelations | Leave a comment

Wolfe Street and Leprechaun Story 5

Posted on May 9, 2017 by rlongwort

Violet Blooms at my house surprising me

May is a beautiful month in Ireland, when all the “May bushes” are in bloom with white blossoms in all the hedges, under which the lambs are cavorting and gamboling. The huge wheels of pale primroses, on the dark mossy railway banks and on the avenue out to the road are gone for another year.

Luppins

Soul Garden

Here in Harrisonburg the street continues with marvelous flowers coming up in all the gardens, both old and new. The beauty of the soul of the people here comes through in their spectacular gardens.

The love bird bench

The bike is happily standing by its pedal

It is BIKE month also and I have been out on the bike. The purple flowers and the bench with the little hearts cut into the woodwork arrest me in my tracks and I am trespassing to get the best photos.

Not for tea any more

Yellow for third chakra

Yellow kettle repurposed

The Leprechaun Story # 5

He set out again on his quest and he came to the Hill of Uishnach, in the very center of Ireland.

Clover field

Meadow

He saw a ring of mushrooms in a field, indicating to him some special energy in the ground there, that attracted help him on his way. He ate a pile of these white caps mushrooms and was very satisfied with his feast in the fields.

Mushrooms

On the Hill of Uisneach

In the Circle

Four horses, came by to eat the mushrooms and looked kindly with their big dark eyes on the sleeping fellow.

The kindly horses

He dreamed that the mushrooms became the earth and he ate handfuls of it and that the sun’s light pooled at his feet and he drank it up. A white bird gave him a golden crown with the words “A growing light” printed on the inside rim.

A growing light

Then he was taken by a greening rope and turned into a growing tree with a beautiful smooth bark and much dark earth all around the bottom in a circle where a woman tended the roots. He moaned deliciously in his sleep, as his branches reached upwards.

He dreamed he became a living tree

He was weary when he arrived home, empty handed except for the dream and some mushrooms, which he put on three “trainins,” plantain grass with seed heads on them, that prevented the light mushrooms from falling off the end. He played the ancient game of Quadlore with his wife that night and there were great opportunities to be unkind.

A flower from her garden

It was useful when she started to look for the word “love” in her letters but when she could not find the “e” letter for her hand, she forsook it for other words and ended up with war, quid, zit and ax. The zen word came with a flourish at the end to him, almost giving him a win. She wished him luck, and a warm feeling descended on her, and that night it was a draw.

Some stories

Where the squirrel stashed a nut in the Catalpa tree among the ivy leaves

As he slept

At the 9 o’clock bedtime, he discussed his dream from earlier in the day with her, hoping she would figure it out for him. She was concerned with making a story out of her disparate words gathered in the game. In the end she settled for a doodle.

She did not pay much attention to him and the yarns of his day. She gave him a dream leaflet and invited him to draw his dream, which he did upside down.

He drew his dream on the dream leaflet

As they went to sleep and looked at his drawing they saw many things in the drawing which they talked about among themselves. They were soon snoring in unison.

The End

Patterns from the house beside the yellow kettle

When Rose woke up the next morning she was very sleepy and only vaguely felt her husband tugging on the bedclothes, three times, to make up his side of the bed. When she got up, she noted the bed was not fixed at all, on his side, so she went about puling and dragging it into shape all by herself. Maybe she only dreamed he pulled on the clothes three times.

The Quilt – Artwork by Justin McNamara

She was puzzled with the dreams of the night, which brought her back to her homeland. She resolved to mull over them as she made breakfast. She could have sworn there were mushrooms in the fridge, but she never found them. Ah well, she would have to buy some in the market or the Coop to satisfy her longing.

May you find yourself on the magic Hill of Uisneach in Ireland, in your dreams, with the wind at your back and a path of mushrooms leading you round and round until you come to your own inner circle where you find a golden crown twinkling at you from the grass and some deeply meaningful words inscribed for you on the inside rim.

In the meantime, I would be very happy to meet with you in my therapy room at my house, where your dreams will be opened and peered into like the gold mine they are. My contact information can be found on FindaTherapist.com.

Posted in Drawing the Dream, dreams, Leprechaun, Mandala, Uncategorized | Tagged dreams, flowers, interpreting, Ireland, Love, paintings, Story as Dream, virginia, Wolfe Street | 2 Comments

Love in Life, Life in Love

Posted on May 8, 2017 by rlongwort

I told you in a former blog about my friend, who found that, “We all love each other already.” This saying had become a touchstone always for my friend and helped in working with everyone, whatever the fault, the addiction, the sorrow or the illness.I do not think that way, even thought I would like to, consistently and always….That we all love each other already.

Signs on the street about acceptance

and Love for neighbors

On my street are the signs “Hate has no home here” and “No matter where you are from, we’re glad you’re our neighbor”. I feel like I think along these lines but there is an opposite, which runs as follows: Love has a home here and everyone is welcome here. We all love each other already.

The rejected stone that is a touchstone for me

I have a stone from a holy site in Ireland, which is a touchstone for me. I could feel where it was smoothed and where it was carved; yet it was thrown away. The stone is connected to love for me. Holy men, who wrote, worked, carved, prayed and meditated, once inhabited the site and worked on this stone, centuries ago. Their writings tell of how earnest they were about being in contact with their God. They lived a dedicated life.

Copy of painting Originally painted by Miriam McNamara

I have a wonderful picture, which was painted up in a matter of minutes by my daughter Miriam, when she was around eight. I repainted, her now faded picture, trying to be faithful to how she drew and wrote the whole thing. I think there is a truth in it that only a child can see.

Spring continues

On Wolfe Street

Brightening my day

Love is selfish when we want it just for us, drawn inward and it is selfless when it is sent out for others. It is the essence of prayer to send out light and healing for others. The vessel of the heart chakra itself has to be filled from above with the flow of selfless love. It is the concentration and consecration of the attention into the spirit that causes the flow of love in the right direction. In the way of healing and love, our thoughts, our prayers light up our heart chakra and the light depicted by the drawing of the candle, pulls us into the feeling of love, organically available in the heart.

No holding back here

In the Our Father, the heart chakra says “But deliver me from all evil ” and that includes inner and outer evil. Our inner evil comes from this heart chakra also, reversed by our thoughts, for hatred, revenge, dark feelings. Our Pituitary gland is so sensitive to our many wishes that it gives the hormones we need to go with the thoughts, for example, adrenaline for fighting etc. It works in the subtle ways of put down, taking the heart our of relationship, causing the sensor holding our prayers to be broken and an empty feeling.

At the corner of Gay and Broad

May the golden candle that you are, be lighted from within and may a golden ring crown your head imprinted with the words “We all love each other already.”

A light of helping

Details of Miriam’s childhood drawing

An everlasting light

A growing light

If you need some help getting over the wall to this place of wondrous love, come see me with your dreams and we will see how you can get on with this effort to find your true heart and its gifts for you. Love from Rose Longworth LPC.

Posted in Chakras, Heart Chakra, meditation, Our Father and Healing, Uncategorized | Tagged chakra, dreams, Heart Chakra, Love, meditation, Photos of Wolfe Street, Pituitary, Prayer, roselongworth.com, Watercolors | 1 Comment

Old heart new Heart

Posted on May 4, 2017 by rlongwort

This gallery contains 15 photos.

Originally posted on Rose Longworth Counseling:
Burning out the old and bringing in the new is about clearing out selfish love from my heart so I can entertain selfless love. In order to do that I have to clear out…

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Old heart new Heart

Posted on May 1, 2017 by rlongwort

At corner of Gay and Broad

The beautiful wild rose by the Wayne River. They have a lovely smell.

Tulips still blooming

Burning out the old and bringing in the new is about clearing out selfish love from my heart so I can entertain selfless love. In order to do that I have to clear out old ancestral inheritance and some patriarchial nurture from my childhood. Come along on this journey to find more of yourself, your own wholeness, as this has helped me find more of my own puzzle.

The fire that started it all

The Dream

I had a dream that I am leaving my house that is burning down. I wonder if I will go back in to save something from upstairs but know it is folly to do that. I come back to look at it later and it is an old farmhouse burned out. It is not safe and boards are falling down. I decide against going in. I realize it does not affect my writing.

The old farmhouse on fire

Real Life Context of the Dream

The house that is burning is actually the one my parents came to, when they got married. It was an arranged marriage and they hardly knew each other. They each had a farm and the priests arranged the union. There were a few visits in the parlor, complete with very polite talk, followed by the ceremony and honeymoon in Dublin. The age of one of them was kept a secret, as no one wanted this five year differential to upset the unions.

My Parents home from Honeymoon. Artwork by Annabeth McNamara

My maternal grandmother, Mariah, was waiting their arrival with anxiety and forgot to close in the chickens. The red fox had his visit that night to the henhouse. The smell of warm chickens lured the red tailed fox closer and closer until his nose led him to the low one foot high door. It was a dark house but the fox is a night time hunter and he felt at home. The chickens made little noise as they fell one after the other to his jaws. There was no notice from the house, no concern from the humans. Granny was criticized and blamed.

Monty dog standing in for the fox

This slaughter by the fox may have been an omen of her difficulty getting along with her son in law, my father, and she later left her place on the farm until she was a much older woman. My father took good care of her then.

Grandmother’s conflict about leaving me as a toddler

My grandmother was with me through the first year of my life. She cared for me and slept next to me and saw to my every need. When she left my father created a wooden box for me, to take care of my foraging in the shelves for sugar.

I was conflicted about my love for her, and the value of the feminine in myself because of my father’s patriarchal attitude to the females in his life, having left an adoring mother to live with two strange women, his wife and mother-in-law. Neglecter of chickens, producers of four children in a few years, was stressful for him.

Granny as a young woman loving on me

My Interpretation of the Dream.

This dream is about the effects on me of my childhood environment, the old farmhouse, and what went down then. The attitudes born out in my parent’s arranged marriage was sucked into me and has left a mark on my heart. He had that superior attitude to women and I was wont to join him in his criticisms. My mother held my hand as a child and I was her confidant about how difficult it was to be married.

A Man from another dream standing in for my critical father. It is of course a part of me.

Tulips in Harrisonburg

At corner of Gay and Broad

Blowing in the wind

Ancestral Wound

Ancestral inheritance also affects me as, one side of our family line came to Ireland as conquerers some centuries before. It leaves a mark on all involved, having to maintain a certain position in order to hold on to what was granted.

The Ancestors

The head has to be held up pretty high, and the back watched carefully to hold on. I have to consider this inheritance especially when I find myself feeling superior to and critical of others. Anxiety and fear of others also needs to be considered here.

The beautiful wild roses, blossoms and bud, by the Wayne River, smelling lovely.

Conclusion

In my dream I am pointing at the house and lamenting its loss. I want to go back to what I had. I realize that there is nothing in the burned out shell for me there now. Such a burning loss is described as, weeping and wailing from afar, wishing the mountains would fall on me, not liking to make a change, when the self love energy of the heart chakra is turned out. The night before having the above dream, I dreamed of a fire, the fire that gave me the burning farmhouse.

If you have a burning desire to tend to your own fires, your losses and the wounds you may carry, I would love to work with you. May the wind of spirit be at your back bringing you clearness about inheritance, both recent and ancient, and selfless love.

Original artwork and photos by Rose Longworth LPC.

Above Photo of Rose Longworth and editing by Annabeth McNamara.

Posted in Ancestral Inheritance, dreams, Interpretation, Mandalas, Uncategorized | Tagged critical in dreams, dreams, fire, fox, Love, old farmhouse image, paintings and dreams, poetry, roselongworth.com, selfish and selfless, Watercolors | 1 Comment

Rose Longworth Counseling

Beads – Psychoanalytic and Body Work

Interpreting a Watercolor

Labyrinth and Leprechaun

Leprechaun Story 7

Soup and the Leprechaun Story 6

I Will Bring It To You

Wolfe Street and Leprechaun Story 5

Love in Life, Life in Love

Old heart new Heart

Old heart new Heart

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