Rose Longworth Counseling

Beyond Good and Evil

Posted on April 27, 2017 by rlongwort

Orange for second chakra

Half way through my meditation, I had a thought about the person who drives by my deck and shouts something to me. I have strong feeling about this “space invasion.”

Some years ago, while on my deck meditating, thinking about a complainer, a brick came loose in my chimney above and started coming down.

The wayward sooted brick

I was shielded from the noise by a wall and roof above, but I started to rise up, as the banging racket got nearer and nearer. It echoed off the house across the street and fooled me into thinking it was not related to my house. I was lying on the deck for that meditation on a frosty morning covered with blankets. The brick came down, prized loose by the frost and the gas vapors from my furnace. It ricocheted off the deck railing, and onto the deck, denting it inches from my where my head had been.

Still Dented deck.

So here I am some years later, ricocheting my mind to a driver, who is currently not on my road and who may not be for months. I see myself flinging that brick at her windshield and then pretending it fell out of the chimney. I catch this, less than benign thought, right in the middle of my holy meditation. I call myself back. I check the time. I am half way through my 66 minutes.

The red mist

Between the devil and the deep

Granny was mad at the fox

I saw the serpent laughing so hard at me, saying to me “I tempted you and you fell into it, hook, line and sinker. You declared what is wrong and that person in the car was wrong, for having the nerve to invade your space, to say something to your highness.

You were eating from the tree of good and evil. This judgement for right and wrong is hilarious. You were biting into that brick, as if it was a large juicy apple. I will not hurt the hair on your head, but you are sure easy prey even as you pray. I would not be surprised if the chimney fell on you, and you do it all by yourself, bring down this on yourself with those thoughts of yours.”

Innocent Dogwoods

In Harrisonburg

A crow weighed in from the top of the walnut tree saying he had no idea why I went so berserk, and he could see the red energy all the way from the top of the tree, even as he was being bombarded by a cowbird, for eating her eggs for breakfast.

Spring flowers

Other tulips

Warm sunshine

A little red energy

I got serious about the silence, and I left down my beef in my garden and started to say the Buddha prayer for that person; “May you be well, may you be happy, may you be at ease, may you be safe.” I sent out the Christian prayers of healing too, surrounded her with the light of Christ.

Sunrise Azalea

I went back to being busy with my own life, after asking for some loving energy to round out and smooth my day, and be concerned with the Oneness.

Your comments are as welcome, as those of the crow, relating to this writing or anything else. I am handling snakes and you can say what you like to me. I put all snakes in a bucket in the basement and am waiting for them to turn into red tulips. I will take other tulip colors too, including blue, black and white.

Tulips

In bloom

In blue

And if you want to look at some dreams, I am happy to look at them with you. Feel free to make an appointment with me and we’ll investigate how the Serpent is tempting you these days.

May the wind be back and blow you in some great dreams,

-Rose Longworth

Posted in Chakras, dreams, meditation | Tagged dreams, harrisonburg, Interpretation, interpreting, meditation, paintings, Prayer, revelations, rose longworth, Tulip, virginia, Watercolors | 6 Comments

Leprechaun 4 Story

Posted on April 26, 2017 by rlongwort

The red mist of the night

The Leprechaun went out on his travels again only to find himself blinded by a red mist. He was carrying a door on his back, as he felt sure he would open that door and find someone helpful there someday. The door was red.

The red mist

more red mist views

The door

The mist had many shades of red, from dark red to shades of purple. He found himself walking on a road he had not been on before, and when he saw the signpost for Kilbeggan, he was relieved. He went down over a narrow bridge at a sharp bend in the road and came to a fork on the road he knew. He turned down that road and found his way quickly.

The road home

The hill of home

He was home before his wife started going on about the bed clothes being crooked.

The crooked quilt

In the morning they made the bed together and it looked fine. She climbed onto the bed to do her usual exercise of doing a handstand off the bed.

She lowered her head down toward the floor and blurted out “The bedclothes are all crooked from down here.” He replied, “No they’re not, it is you that is crooked.”

She knew she had a crooked cactus, a crooked stick, a crooked hedge, and perhaps even house, but she was sure she was not crooked.

She replied, “No, you are crooked.” He stepped over her as she had turned around in her handstand and slid onto the floor and was now doing legs up the wall pose, blocking his way. He had his loose boxers on and indeed she had a fine view of his white legs, from where she lay. He replied, “It is not crooked.” He swept himself into his green pants of the day and hurried out the door, continuing on his quest for gold.

When I woke up that morning in my bed, I was glad I was not that weird woman with the quilt that was in my dreams again.

I had another dream of my house being burned down and having to cope with that. I mused about the dream as I went about cooking and cleaning and writing and painting that day. Then I remembered it was the tall skinny farmhouse of my childhood I dreamed of, leading me onto the road less travelled…

I would be delighted to hear from you in the comments about any dreams you’ve had lately.

Stick

painted by

Annabeth

Mcnamara

My intention is to be helpful to those who would like extra insight into their dreams.

The lilies pouring fourth grace this morning

If you are that person, you can contact me through the contact tab on the navigation bar.

Thanks for reading this story as it unravels,

May the road rise to greet you and the wind blow in some good dreams!

-Rose Longworth, LPC

Posted in Bedroom, dreams, Leprechaun, Mandala, roselongworth.com, Uncategorized, Watercolors | Tagged dreams, Leprechaun story, roselongworth.com | 2 Comments

The Song of Love from the Flowers

Posted on April 24, 2017 by rlongwort

The buttercups are out

In Hill and Dale Park

Happy in the sunshine

Photos above are of Rose in the Hill and Dale Park, enjoying the buttercups.

Once my mentor told me that I should be like the hen, who is hatching eggs, when it comes to my spiritual life. Like a mother hen, when she leaves the nest, she continually references them, and goes flying back if needed, if some inkling tells her they need her attention now. As children sometimes we might see a hen, flying back to her nest, barely skimming the ground, in a great hurry, making frantic chicken noises. In the same way, I was to continually keep on connected terms with my inner life, God, soul etc.

Below are photos of Rita and Roy Nelson’s three hens. They are well loved. They started out, the hens, with a pecking order, but now are totally agreeable with each other. And they lay fresh eggs daily.

The well loved chickens

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

Growing up on a farm, chickens were always close at hand. I still struggle with it today, trying to get it. The nearest I come to it is to focus on my reactions to things, notice what I am thinking in the moment, and run back to ground zero, to keep safe what I am trying to build in my heart, in my personal nest, to grow the seed of love up into a flower that grows more seeds of love, one hundred fold.

Laying eggs often

The well loved chickens

At the party someone talked about the experience they had with love when a teen, thirty years ago. It became a touchstone for them, because in that moment they realized without doubt that we already love one another. It never left the heart of that person. It came with much danger for the person, that climbing up the other way, but gratefulness for the experience. I was grateful to hear about it.

Goddess of the seeds

Finally, it was my job sometimes to close in the hens at night. Because of the fox stories, it was a terrifying event. My parents sometimes sang about the fox. “Oh John, John, John, the grey goose is gone, and gone to the den-no den-no…” My fear was that I would end up in a fox’s “denno.” It usually was dark by the time they remembered that the hens needed to be shut in. Creeping out in the dark, finding the big and little doors was always electrifying. Coming back in to the house I would become airborne over the slight rise, in an effort to escape the imaginary fox.

She was a little afraid of the fox

So I am left with figuring out how this relates to my Spiritual life. Recently, I made a proposal that was shot down by the other party. I went into a “rose cloud” about this. I wrote an email. Luckily it “disappeared” just before I sent it.

At the heart of the matter

I needed to consider that I am meeting myself in this disagreement and it is in this moment I can admit the shadow in the situation, after some vision of myself, bossy, in control, crossed my mind from the left. I am running into the situation as they have something to give me or teach me. I have something in my own way. Like realizing that my shadow thinks I could take over the situation, foolishly thinking it is mine to manage.

The pictures below were taken in Hill and Dale Park in Harrisonburg. I like to hang upside down at this exercise station to see things from the other side. The view of the redbuds across the way was not bad either.

Redbuds all around

The exercise station where I hand upside down to consider things from the other side

That running back to the nest is like checking in on what I am hatching, what I am thinking. Other avoid us in this unclaimed shadow.

On the other hand the other person feels the spirit of love sent out, as I breath out good will, reference a place in the breathing chest that holds love. The ground itself is affected by this love and starts working with us. It is not a case of putting up with the other person but a case of sending out compassion, love, helping them, considering their shoes. It becomes a new spirit that lifts them and us into happiness. It is a different flow. To protect what is real in me against what is not. To be in the business of building community, inside and outside.

Song of Love from the Rose

You are a seed of love

In your deep dark earth

Kick away the dead heads

Water it starry dew

Warm it with passion

Between the upper and lower

Fires

Breath air into it

Set the embers off

Charm it

Raise it into your heart

Shape it how you like

No end of flowers

You are your own seed of love

Love it up

In Lovemaking

Pour it into the food

Write it into your stories

Hand it out in helping

Walk with Love

Your are your own seed of love

Charm it

Raise it

Shape it how you love

No end of brightness

In your flowering love.

Conclusion

If you want to fight with your own shadow, instead of the other shadows all around about, then consider working on your dreams. Get your self out of the fox’s den.

I love hearing a few dreams from the same person. If you have a growth on your back, as big as a birthday cake, then you can consider that the sweetness you insist on is now a problem. If you are resussitating your child, in your dream, you can consider that what you are doing almost killed off a sweet innocence in you.

Claiming the worst in me lets others off the hook. The rejected corner stone in us is admitting our shadow, that is, our faults and failings.

A feeling coming out from the chest, through the arms is all that is needed. Bypassing the head, breathing, praying and silence is marvelous for such chicken problems.

I can be reached on the contact tab on the home page. I look forward to hearing from you soon to hatch some dreams.

men in dreams

Posted in Agape Love, dreams, Exercises, Interpretation, Intuition, Mandala, On the Farm, roselongworth.com, Watercolors | Tagged dreams, roselongworth.com | Leave a comment

Red Mist Dream

Posted on April 20, 2017 by rlongwort

My neighbor’s dogwood blossoms in the evening sunshine.

This blog is about referencing my source as I go. If I do not do that, do not have a compass for the Divine, I am lost in the mist. We have a compass of intuition that continually helps us search for our true selves, our true north. Focusing on dreams is one way of looking at the compass questions.

The Dream

I dream of going to the Doctor’s office to see his wife, who does healing work. I am sitting and waiting, my head is down and I see the doctor with another client. After they pass me I look up and find I am looking through a red mist that has many shades of red through it, including darker red and purple reds, which makes the doctor and client mostly invisible. There is a lighted door through which the doctor and the patient go and there is no mist in that room. As I am leaving I want to find the hat I came in with. When I get to the stand, not only is the hat I came with there, but also my other similar blue hat I own and another black crocheted cap, I never saw before. I note that the second blue hat was left at the previous offices of the Doctor and has come to this new place, in a recent move. He has downsized, so he had no support staff. There is a crowd of press people outside the office. They have big long black coats on them.

Drawing of the Dream

Associations:

If this dream is in response to a previous inquiry into my painful knees, then I am dealing with my first chakra, where the red energy gets stuck, giving me inflammation.

The red mist image reminds me of the story of Cullen, an Irish mythological hero. His knees would turn around three times causing a find red mist to come out of the top of his head making him powerful in battle.

Sammie’s tree of life, in full bloom, true to its pattern.

When I recently met my kid’s dance teacher, she called to me, that she knew me in the distance; from the way I was walking. I called out the Irish saying to her, that, “Those who love you love you. Those who do not, may the Lord turn their knees and you will know them by their limping.” We continued to walk in opposite directions, apart in Hill and Dale Park and both of us laughing.

The mystery hat

Years ago I crocheted a blue hat, no pattern, rip and fix policy employed. I liked it and wore it, but when my mother’s birthday came up in late April, I put it in a parcel and sent it to her in Ireland. My sister, Celine, made us all laugh, as she told us about a neglected pink hat that she bought mother for the same birthday.

Spring flowers

I then crocheted another hat for myself, same wool, which I wore for years. When my mother died, the hat sent to Ireland came back to me. I often check that I have the two hats. The black cap in the dream is like another blue one I have.

The Drawing

I drew a picture of the dream images, in the early morning, as I drank my tea. I had an urge to water over the watercolor pencil drawing and I could see the image of a red horse in the red room appear as I painted with my tea water.

Horses I painted with Margot Bergman when she was my art teacher (on her farm in 1990s)

I love the horse appearance. He seems benign and interested in the doctor and patient. I like the dream, as I am seeking out healing. The door of white light is also an option for me to go through. The hats, which I love, which I create, without pattern are there, not lost, coming back to me. The hats are my training and I have downsized, into a home practice.There is a black hat also available for me to claim, mystery hat.

The mystery hat

I have lost my counseling hat temporarily as I adjust to getting new clients to work with from my home office. The collective male; represented by those kept outside the door, do not think too highly of my new lifestyle. They will be happy to be employed with me in painting, out of my head and into my paintbrush and or pen.

men in dreams

The red mist

Conclusion

After a few weeks, I can look back and consider that these past few weeks I have been in the red mist of my usual unconscious ways of thinking, in a sleeping state. I have to reclaim my ability to reference my intuition, the infinite in this ordinary life, so that I can re-enter myself, a personal Easter resurrection. It is not about business but about intuition, as to how to live this life in Oneness. This work takes care of unconscious red mood, lack of awareness. My meditation time is taking on a new singleness of intent of silence to clear a way for intuition for me.

Anytime we try to change we have to endure a battle where our knees spin and the red mist is spraying above our heads. Referencing the spinning chakras in meditation is essential, because referenced or not they are there. I look forward to the followup dream, and accept what ever it brings.

If you want to look at a dream in detail, consider your own mist, your own wheels, and mystery hats available to you, I will look at it with you so that you can re-enter yourself. You can contact me on the contact tab on the home page.

Posted in beautiful spring garden, dreams, Easter, Interpretation, Intuition, Mandalas, Red and first chakra, roselongworth.com, Watercolors | Tagged associations in dreams, dream interpretation, dreams | Leave a comment

Happy Easter Greetings

Posted on April 17, 2017 by rlongwort

On Easter Sunday morning, I fell into a tomb in the garden. The man was dead, bound and gagged with linen cloths around his body and around his head. There were great jars of spices. The tomb smelled of the sweet dead. The huge stone door was secured with very little direct light coming through.

From the Garden

As I sat there I heard an earthquake and light bursting forth within and without. This earthquake was in the ground also, and with a great noise, of many waterfalls, it shucks the rolled stone loose and it started to open. It was round and heavy and the early dawn light streamed in above and below with the fresh air of the garden. I was just in time to see the guards laid out on the ground, as dead, as an Angel with white shiny raiment came in.

The Tomb into which she fell.

The Angel looked with such love on the dead man, as he unbound him. The light of this dead man’s newly risen soul slipped back into his numbered and numb bones and into his skin, now pierced by the light.

His seven chakras lit up in the colors of the rainbow, with a white shiny halo of light, coming down above his head and surrounding his whole body.

He got loose from the dark, the bindings, to find himself in a beautiful hand spun white robe, walking out into a blue-sky morning.

The blue sky

He slowly began smiling and then laughing. He told the guard to not be afraid as they ran for their lives.

The crucifixion

The huge thunder storm on the evening of his crucifixion brought out every spring flower and every fruit bearing tree into bloom by Sunday Morning. The energy of his resurrection affected the whole garden with lightness of being. Mary addressed him among this profusion of perfume and color. She hardly could see him through her tears, through the shining sun and his shining light. When she finally recognized him she fell at his feet, hardly able to take in his aliveness, her beloved Lord standing there. When she held him by the feet, he said to her “Touch me not for I am newly risen” so full was he of light.

Reaching for her Master’s feet

May I, may you, may all feel your feet being held by the shining Master. May love explode in all our hearts, rolling away a stone hard shell. May your understanding be opened. May an earthquake wake up your colors and clean out the chakras for you. May the springtime of your flowering, bring you into the sweet smelling garden and find your Lord laughing there as you reach for his feet, so happy to see you.

Feet

If you would like some help with exploring the Spiritual Path, to give up complaining altogether, to stop blaming, to love with the love of God, to sit in waiting silence, to play music and sing with the heart energy streaming out into the tune, I would like to be that person to be consulted and be of help to you. In the meantime I will work on myself, as I have plenty of adjusting to do and periods of time wasted for which I have to account to myself. I can be contacted on the contact tab on the home page.

Rose at Work

Posted in beautiful spring garden, Chakras, Easter, feet, laughter, Rolling away the stone, roselongworth.com | Tagged dreams, Light, meditation, roselongworth.com | Leave a comment

Leprechaun Story 3 and the Fridge

Posted on April 13, 2017 by rlongwort

The Leprechaun story Chapter three.

He asked his wife, Mariah, for a rope to help him get into the mine, where he felt sure he would find the gold. They went into the basement looking through her bucket of twine, threads, ropes and ladders. He filled his bag with the rope she called the “Devil’s Tail.” He left through a gap in the hedge, her good wishes echoed after him.

While in the mines, he fell down and was stuck on a narrow ledge for a period of time.

He was exhausted from trying to climb out and when the rope fell down one last time and landed around his body he just left it there and slept.

He dreamed he went to Arcturus and that the vehicle, shuddered a lot as it went. He held the hand of a young boy as they travelled.

Space ship art

When he woke up the rope had attached itself to the walls and he was able to climb back out of the mine. He smiled for the help the rope had been.

Entrance to the mine

However he noticed he had become covered in its leaves and he had grown a tail remarkably like the rope that helped him out of the mines.

Pictures of the journey

It was attached to him, and while he did not care for this much he felt that it was a good thing to have the devil rope by the tail. He threw it over his shoulder and set off for home. He did not find any gold but did find one lump of lead, which he carried home, in the hopes of being able to convert it to gold.

He wanted her to put it in the bed between them but she was still preoccupied with getting the blankets straight. He decided to put it under the bed for a bit until she had the bed problem solved.

The quilt

He considered going out to sleep in the chicken house as he felt he got along well with the chickens and their “bawking.” He liked Lucy in particular. They never bothered him and he liked the eggs. He never worried about what they would do if he lay down to sleep but he feared their lack of discrimination and there is nothing worse than hen dump. So he slipped into the bed when his wife had left it for the day’s work.

Mariah fixing her hair in the mirror.

The End

When she woke up that morning, she had a big dream about a rope being around her neck pulling her one way and then another. It reminded her of her bed, when she woke up, where half the bedclothes were down one side and the other half, down the other side of the bed. She decided to get on with the day, clean out the fridge and eat leftovers. There were a lot of yogurts of questionable vintage, made from Judith’s “darling buds.” There were dried out root vegetables, beef broth on the verge of being able to walk out of the fridge on its own, drops, vitamins and oils filling the fridge. The drops were for the brain, for springtime, for dislodging money chips that made you unhappy, nettle drops, chickweed drops to name but a few. She ingested a little of this and that. At the end of the day she felt just a little sick but the fridge looked great with lots of room left over.

Tulips going someplace

And if you find that your drops are not working too well and your unconscious is making you a little stuck, be sure to bring your dreams here to me. I will enjoy scouting them for materials to unclog what is stuck, to find energy to be creative, in both of us. I will help you negotiate your mines and mine fields and help us on our way. Be sure to leave me a note on the contact tab on the home page.

Rose standing in front of Alchemy in the Guggenheim

Posted in Bedroom, dreams, Gold and lead, Leprachauns, Mandala, roselongworth.com, The devil's tail, Tulip, Watercolors | Tagged dreams, Leprechaun | 1 Comment

Red in the First Chakra

Posted on April 11, 2017 by rlongwort

Pansy in the morning light bringing in the colors of the two highest chakras at the same time.

Currently my knees and other joints are hurting, and I am trying to connect my dream, outlined below, to this effort I am making to heal my joints. I read that the first chakra, which is red energy, is the cause of my problem. The red of the first chakra ends up in the joints, as inflammation. My temperament causes the inflammation, which is my habitual way of thinking. A pinch of worry, a pound of grump, control, control, you know how it goes.

Mandala of the unholy spirit in the knees.

I have had many healers try and heal me (and it does help for a couple of days or weeks or years) but I just keep missing the point that I have to confront my ways, my habits of thinking, for a deeper healing.

I am in love with the blues and reds in this painting. Bringing the horses of the four lower chakras up the mountain for a meeting with what will help.

I will give away that thing that triggers me into grumpiness every time I see it. I will learn the words of the 62^nd psalm(For you Oh Lord, my soul waits in silence) and sing it until it winds around my spine and brings back in that red energy from my joints. I will focus on my own stuff and let the stuff of others be theirs.

Lovely art – not sure what stuff is in the bowls – four primary colors represented.

I will check in with my stomach and my level of relaxation as I focus. I will breath green into my heart. It is easy with the green grass coming up explosively and the green leaves of the trees filling the blue horizon. I will think in terms of cool blue and green in my knees. It looks like a kind of pointillism, very soft and filled with love. I am also treating my knees with castor oil packs, (Palma Christi, Palm of Christ in Europe) massage with peanut oil and soaking with Epsom salts among other remedies.

A view from the high line in New York

In the meantime I accept my deformed knees as karma (maybe I caused someone to limp metaphor- ically. Past life possibility also.) and I am delighted that I still get to go around on them, for a whole week of pounding the pavements in New York, in and out of museums with beautiful paintings.

Mandala inspired by art in New York

I dreamed last night I was at home in Derryhall, Ireland. A young man, maybe my nephew in Australia, had built an underground house, where there was a slurry pit. There was a corridor leading into a square box type house. No windows, good ventilation in the house. I was smoking a cigarette. I noticed that the soil around the house was dark and very rich, not sandy at all, what is known as black gold in the organic community. The house building has happened very quickly. I was surprised.

In bloom

The above dream may be affirming me for this current take I have on myself. I love the image of the very rich soil, the feeling it will be easy to be within, to grow a garden without. I am going inward to treat myself. I am mindful of what I am doing. My dream may also be poking fun at me for smoking the odd cigarette.

May this marvelous spring weather, and this greening inside and outside continue, in me, in you and in all. May I reclaim my natural green self, row by row, and pull the red back to where it belongs in the first chakra, helping with digestion and healing of all sorts.

Very old chalice in museum – a dream image given to me by a friend.

And if you have a dream you want to explore, whether it is one of a chalice that you light with a taper, or whether it is one of being chased and being deadly afraid and being given two paintings to put into yourself, please come see me and I will be in awe with you over such richness. All dreams are miraculous regardless of their content, and once we set fire to them in the crucible of our chalice minds and see that marvelous blue flame and feel the power against fears, we will be satisfied to do such work, to appreciate such work.

I am looking for a few good people to work with. If you have a spiritual practice, are willing to work with what your unconscious gives you, meditate, sing and pray, or any combination of the above, and want to deepen your spiritual practice, contact me on the contact tab on home page. Thanks.

Posted in dreams, Heart Chakra, Interpretation, Mandalas, meditation, Red and first chakra, roselongworth.com, Tulip | 4 Comments

A dream of Intuition

Posted on March 29, 2017 by rlongwort

My jubilant tulip is reflecting blue in its shiney black.

I dreamed we went into a hotel with our toddler. We went to bed and when I woke up I realized what I had forgotten about our child and she is not with us. I have this devastated feeling of loss. Hours had passed, as we slept. I did not know where to start.

Dream image of lost child

My father told a story of the temporary loss of his first child, when she was a toddler one evening in early Summer. She was with him as he milked the cow. She was ignored by the big red and white cows, who were rummaging into the hay for the sweetest bits of clover. She had dipped her fingers in the creamy froth at the top of the bucket of milk and sucked them clean, a right granted to all the children in the family. When he finished feeding calves and sending the cows back out to pasture for the night, he went up to the house with his bucket of milk for the house use. She was not there. My mother, who was heavily pregnant with a second child, had not seen her. He was startled to consider where she got to and a quick foray around the house and its surrounds did not find her.

A painting of a view from the sand hill. The hill in the distance is Cnoc NaCosta. The artist is Mark Longworth, “Francie’s nephew.”

His intuition led him out to the field at the back of the house, a river on one margin and a bog on the other side of a formidable sand hill deposited there in the ice age. This hill, that covered ten acres or more has been opened into a safe sandpit, near the house and the place where the lambs played around its edges. He has brought her out there to see them earlier, in the summer sunset. Ten lambs raced along the higher ledge of green that was a foot higher than the sand. After a playful run, at a designated spot, the lambs leapt into the air, with there little tails wriggling, for a dance filled landing on the sand. Watching this repetition, this springtime ritual, many times, left her feeling jubilant and she cried when he brought her off to herd in the cows for the evening milking.

He stood there, where they and the lambs had tarried earlier. Now the sheep had moved into the lower ground of “Savages Garden” for the night and neither she nor the sheep were visible.

She had so enjoyed the lambs that she found her way back out there, under the tall pine trees, on the rutted lane, under the gate, to watch again their jubilant jumping. When she did not find them, she started to walk, across the hill, toward the big hedge cutting the field in two. Hazel nut trees, raspberry brambles, rabbit boroughs, sloe bushes, hawthorn trees and bird’s haunts were there.

When she got tired her little legs went down hill and she finally fell down in an small round indent, about ten feet across and no more then seven or eight inches at its deepest. This indent was in a natural valley, formed by the c shaped sand hill of the ice age. At the top of the hill there were three crosses, where lightening had struck three cows, some years earlier. She tried to protest her abandonment but she was full of creamy milk and was exhausted and was soon fast asleep.

When my father told this story, he was very proud of the fact that he followed the faintest cry that he heard when he first entered the field. It was as if his feet knew the way to his only child. He followed blindly in a fast walk, without thinking. As he got closer she woke up to his call, “Francie, Francie” but she did not know enough to cry out or reply, coming out of her sleepy fog.

His eyes were used to the darkness but he could not see her in the little indent, where she lay. But his intuition said, “go on, keep going” and he blindly went forward with nothing more than an inner knowing where he would find her. His fears, a swarm of angry bees were ignored. He detected the brightness of her pink clothes when he was right beside her and he dropped to his knees on to the grassy ground, all energy leaving him. She woke up to his touch as he scooped her up into his waiting embrace.

In blue

In love with this happening tulip

As I look into my dream above, about loosing my child, I have to consider that the child of intuition is my toddler and it is so easy to lose awareness of this incredible gift we have for knowing, when it is some particular knowing we need, whether it relates to health, or dreams or any of the possible seven thousand things in our particular world.

Rose, Don’t go back to sleep but grow your intuition, as the innocent child it is. Follow those leadings that will rescue that child again and again, even as that child of intuition will rescue you when most needed

Other inhabitant in my garden.

Posted in Drawing the Dream, dreams, Father connection, Interpretation, Intuition, On the Farm, roselongworth.com, Tulip | Leave a comment

The Pineal and the Party

Posted on March 27, 2017 by rlongwort

Meditation

On Monday night I went to the Kundalini Yoga class and the exercises were directed toward the Pineal Center. I call this chakra/gland the observatory in us. It is the place that is “faithful and true” “And Holy is Thy Name.” It is in the brain, as the hypothalamus, and is behind, what is identified as the third eye. It is shaped like a pinecone and hence its name, Pineal. It does its job of waiting and looking for us to line up, so the doors to the eternal in us can open and let us fly. This is the portal through which we sail after death.

The pinecone image is associated with the Pineal center in our brains and there are many such images in the Vatican.

In the yoga class, we worked hard and I did indeed have a feeling of movement in my head. Strips of colors moved out of their place and flew in all directions. They made their way into my drawings.

The door

What the crow saw

During the meditation time I felt that I was sitting in a brightly lit white calla lily, as I sat cross legged at the end of the class, an open flower holding me safe, contained and at the same time I am in a marvelous vortex.

Spring primroses masquerading as calla lilies

Picture of our tour group meditating in India. This is the teacher who advised us to meditate a minute for every year of our lives and spend an hour on our passions in the morning before going out of the house to do our work of the day.

Meantime back on the street, living across the road from a newly renovated house with eight apartments, the party started about 10am on Saturday morning, with lots of people, outdoor games and noise.

My only tulip (so far) to have survived the cold snap.It sits almost under my porch.

I became invested in it being over early but at 11.30 pm there were about 20 young men out on the roof. Cars were everywhere; young people were stopping and staring up at this darkened house with the silhouettes on the roof. The noise level rose and fell with the cadence of people detached from the ordinary.

White daffodil

Cheryl’s flowers

Spring primroses masquerading as calla lilies

I painted pictures on my porch, during the day and was occupied with my reading, writing and painting, behind the big hedge.

Through the hedge view

However the monster party on my doorstep crept closer to me as I tried to sleep in the warm night and the window closed against the noise. I left my bed and withdrew into the back of the house. My intention became “to want nothing for the young men on the roof,” but to be seized myself by a desire for my own movement, investing in what little fragments of eternity I touch off, prepared to dance into attunement. Maybe even consider how that outer chaos is a compensation for the lack of jubilation in myself.

The jubilent tulip

I go to the bucket and wait for my snakes of anger, frustration and belligerence to be transformed into calla lilies, bluebells or daffodils, the gift of holding down a solemn calm and solitude.

Blue bells

White daffodil

I stole some dreams from people I met this week. I heard of the three loud knocks under the bed dream, the fall that emasculated a boyfriend in quiet a difficult way and the unremembered dreams of horror. Then I had my own Sunday night dream of horror, which I am working on. Working on a dream always puts some perspective on it and takes away the horror once something is admitted.

If you are thinking of working on your dreams be sure to contact me on the contact tab above and be sure to leave a comment if you are reading this blog until the end, as I look forward to hearing from you, who have signed up for my newsletter. All feedback is fabulous. Thanks.

Posted in beautiful spring garden, dreams, meditation, Party, roselongworth.com, Tulip, Visions, Yoga | 4 Comments

Intuition and Leprechaun Story 2.

Posted on March 23, 2017 by rlongwort

My personal interpretation of the last dream blogged, challenged me to use intuition in my life and have a good attitude.

A colleague asked her intuition if she should work with me, and she got a vision of me saying,“Ave Marias.” She understood that I had said so many of them in a past life, my soul was still saying them in this life.She noted she saw me as a nun, dressed in a sage green habit. Around the time this was happening I was thinking I would like a sage green carpet and sage green clothes. My visiting daughter brought me a plate as a gift with a sage green tree on it.

The plate I got from my visiting daughter.

That story gives brings me delight. From the time I was 19 years old, I was told by psychics, that I was a nun in a past life.

When it comes to food and exercises, I have the least amount of intuition. I am often dragged off into what I feel like, rather than what the body wants to heal itself. So many associations swing us one way or another. The kitchen sink of these disciplines is to eat more fruit and vegetables and keep exercising. This alone will make me more intuitive.

What the crow saw

The door

I wrote down yesterday’s dream and did a right side of the brain exercise with it. In the dream, I was trying to get some nebulous bad energy out from under the table, by using lumps of incense that sent up lots of smoke. In last night’s dream I want the other person to pull the plug out of the bathtub full of cold water, instead of doing it myself. Claiming my coldness in the situation will be helpful in getting my offences up on to the table so I can resolve that thorny relationship issues I do not want to acknowledge. By pulling the plug on myself and letting the cold-water flow away I will be in a better attitude. My previous attitude was one of, “I am sad, I will pray for the person, I am blameless.” Acknowledging my trespass of coldness will be better.

Finally I have been thinking about the figure in my drawing in last blog. I think that acknowledging the presence of my own middle manager will be helpful, maybe having a talk with him. I will let you know what comes of that active imagination, when I am successful.

Middle manager and upper management figures

New Leprechaun Story – Bed 2

She found him in the morning putting on his blue shirt, one arm in and the other stretching into the sleeve as he turned to catch what she was saying.

She was intense about the bed. She wanted to tell him her troubles and did start on about everything having slid to one side and no one to help her rectify it all. The bed was huge and she so small.

She asked him “What if I took a photo of the bed when it was perfect?” She followed him into the kitchen to the hob where he makes two fried eggs and coffee. He scatters some special spider dust on the eggs before he turns them over.

She dislikes the smells, but she holds her nose and her tongue about this. What if she wrote a story about the bed, treat it all as a dream; investigate what she is sleeping in and such things. He grimaced at her as he went out the door. She knew he was off on that useless errand of making pots of gold again.

Then she woke up. The bed was indeed a mess, with everything out on the floor on her side of the bed and the only things in their places were the lapis lazuli stone with its blue glitter, and green stone, full of copper and that round rattle from Banff in Canada, all gifts to her to enhance her dream life and to protect her. She was relieved that those stones were doing their job and she had not been stolen into some weird hedge in Ireland with the Leprechauns. She resolved to sit outside with her paints today and make a new painting of the bed and its problems. And if the painting happened to be about something else altogether, like making your bed and having to lie on it, she knew she could blog about it and get it off her chest anyway.

Unconscious unfolding

If you have something to get off your chest, have a bed you do not entirely understand or like, be sure to contact me through the contact tab and we can talk. I am available Monday through Friday business hours and otherwise by appointment for some dream talk.

Posted in Drawing the Dream, dreams, Exercises, Leprachauns, roselongworth.com, Visions, Watercolors | 2 Comments

Rose Longworth Counseling

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Leprechaun 4 Story

The Song of Love from the Flowers

Red Mist Dream

Happy Easter Greetings

Leprechaun Story 3 and the Fridge

Red in the First Chakra

A dream of Intuition

The Pineal and the Party

Intuition and Leprechaun Story 2.

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