It is very beautiful out here in Hillendale Park and there is a path all the way up to the new middle school and you can look back and there are no mountains for you to see because it is foggy. A soft breeze blows and I meet three people on the path and I ask them if they are wondering, like me, if they have died and gone to heaven. They laugh at me and say “Yeah.”
As I walk I am remembering that dream where the lions are under the table and that I closed the door. I was there, in a crucible, a place to deal with that.
The female lion came up to me and licked me on the neck. I was terrifies but need not be. I am feeling the feel of that licking into my stiff neck on my right side. It now has a upward energetic healing feeling, as I imagine that lick climbing up my neck. The Lion of the Tribe of Judea comes to mind. The need for bringing some holiness into my kitchen is pointed out by my friend. She interpreted the lick as being positive.
The lioness gobbles up stuff in me that is not good, old habits and patterns of the darkness. It is referencing licking away that which is of the wheel of Rose and not of the wheel of God’s will. It is the thyroid gland, the fifth chakra place, in the area of the neck.
Some days later, I am sitting here on the bank of the North River in Bridgewater. I am up early and my exercising ambitions are over and I realize I have an hour to spare before I have to leave. I decided to meditate at the side of the river, sitting at a bench. A high embankment lifts straight up out of the other side of the river. All kinds of green leaved trees are stacked where ever they could find a place to root themselves. Sometimes the roots are visible and sometimes the trunks are visible and it is all reflected in the glassy water as it flows by, full of the recent rains. The trees, layered in many ways show off their tender tops against the blue blue sky.
A heron flies across the river unexpectedly, sweeping around in a semi circle over the water and lands on the bank about thirty feet from me and lands behind some tree trunks. I stay still not to scare it away. The heron is after that fish that jumped too quick for me to see. The water fall is below me and in the backwater nearby a bull frog croaks at intervals. It has a deep drum base sound that is close to me and gives out a vibration that goes through me.
In meditation I want to pray for the people of Iran, now in our news. I ask God to bless all the mothers in Iran and all their children so that none of them have any tears in their eyes.
Please Lord not let this disaster happen. Even if it happens, I have to accept that it is in God’s plan. I will thank God in the mean time, that I can sit by this river and witness the light here in everything. The beauty in the flying heron and in the flowing river is made by God and without him was not anything made that was made.
I make a point of praying for the leaders of the nations that are primarily involved in throwing bombs at each other, that God could open their eyes to the suffering caused by such war activities.
John was “sent as a witness to that light” and I am also sent as a witness to that “pure light” that lighteth everyone that comes into the world.
The Bullfrog croak comes five more times. Meditate Meditate… Jap.
My dream this morning as I awake after eight hours of sleep was about having my foot operated on. It is not a normal operation as I am awake and the surgeon is looking at my foot and has already started to make an inroad into my skin. I ask him how long will it take and he says “eight hours.” I was not sure I would go on with this operation. I had the feeling that this work would be so gradual, and the surgeon so skilled that I would not feel pain. I am being given a glimpse of how spiritual work unfolds through meditation and dreams.
I am not sure what the operation is but am reminded of the idea of “flaying.” When the artist Titian did a self portrait of being flayed alive, all his skin being taken off, the look on his face was one of ecstasy.
The dream also brought some memories back to me of spraining my ankle, maybe twice, when I live in Howth, Dublin in Ireland. I was running for the train with high healed, corked, platform soled shoes and I want flying down the hill and turned my ankle. Another time I was out on Howth Head, on one of the many paths. I was wearing my long leather boots with skinny high heels. The ankle stayed painful until I did some long fasting and fruit dieting. In the middle of the second fast the pain pulled out of my ankle. It was distinctly noticeable, the pain leaving.
Pain returned to my ankle before my knee operations, about two years ago. I struggle with ankle pain some now with swelling. But I can walk and exercise and even if my ankle is hurting sometimes, I give thanks that I am by this beautiful river, in the glassy flow of water, in the sound of the waterfall and under the tallest of trees.
Good by and love from Rose Marie.
Rose Longworth Counseling 