Pink Roses (part 1) and Tibetan Monk

The sweet aroma of pink roses joyously celebrate the sensuality of Spring!

But beyond their velvet petals, exotic fragrance and romantic connotations, I suspect that the deeper meaning of the ubiquitous pink rose varies for each of us.

PINK ROSES have always been a constant in my life, manifesting - sometimes out of nowhere - precisely when my soul was in most need of reassurance.
Yet these occasions that seemed so wondrous to me might have appeared quite ordinary to a casual observer.

Had their impact faded for me with the passage of the years, I, too, might have been tempted to dismiss many of my adventures as mere flights of fancy.  But I cannot simply dismiss the truth of my own knowing.

All the stories unfolding in this blog are true. 

THE PINK ROSE FROCK

Photo by M. Jack H (dec'd) at Bognor Regis, UK 1958  

FRONT: Vivienne (4) and Christobelle(10)  
BACK: Reg and Mrs B, their teenage daughter Evelyn, Yvonne H

Back in the fifties, when all girls wore frocks, or dresses, my favourite item of clothing was a white cotton frock covered with tiny pink rosebuds, with rose-shaped buttons and piped around the collar, hem and sleeves in neon pink. I would make sure that it was washed and ironed in time as quickly as possible after each wearing, because being covered in roses, even those printed on fabric, made me feel so good!  

In the summer of 1958, my Dad's colleague had lent us his caravan for our annual family holiday. Yet even in that rural setting, I insisted on wearing my beloved pink rosebud frock.

ILLUMINATED PINK CHRISTMAS ROSES

Our family had a custom of displaying a dozen illuminated silk pink roses in its own crystal vase, on the mantelpiece over the fire every Christmas. To be sure, they weren't your typical yuletide decoration. But that splash of ice-cream pink in pride of place, amongst the traditional red and green, always reminded me that not everything has to match for it to feel perfect.

Those pink roses were rebels, somewhat out of place, just like I'd felt growing up!  And yet, how pretty they looked, when they were the only lights shining in the room.

PINK ROSES AND THE TIBETAN MONK

One involvement with pink roses ended with a spiritual lesson that my husband will never forget since it introduced him, in no uncertain way, to the reality of my psychic world.

In 1979, Mike and I had been living together for a couple of years, in a one-bedroom apartment in Vancouver, BC. The summer of 79 came so early that by mid-June our afternoon temperatures soared to the stratosphere each day, and cooled but little during the night.

Like most Vancouver apartments, ours was not air-conditioned, so living there felt more like living in an oven. Sleep was difficult and just staying cool became mandatory. On one particularly sultry, sleepless Saturday night, we decided to, literally, take a cold shower and then lay, naked and spread-eagle, on our wet towels in front of our living room fan. Anything to get and stay cool.

We were wide awake and loosely holding hands when the wall behind our fan 'dissolved' and a Tibetan  Monk in saffron robes materialized there - midway between floor and ceiling. Mike and I quickly glanced at each other and then back at the wall. I squeezed his hand tightly. Then, to make very sure that neither of us was hallucinating with the heat, I tentatively inquired:

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"You mean the Tibetan monk who just walked through our living room wall" 
was his immediate reply.  
We were indeed witnessing the same impossible apparition and at the very same time. 

Stunned into silence, I became aware that the monk was talking to me, not with his lips, but with his mind, telepathically. I could 'hear' his thoughts. I could also hear the birds in the garden in which he was walking and smell the fragrance of the roses behind him. I felt as if I existed in two distinct yet interlaced places at once.

Photo by M. Jack H (dec'd) near the Rhododendrons at Gunnersbury Park, Ealing, London in June 1960

L-R Christobelle (11) Deirdre (18 months) & Vivienne(6)

My mind noticed that some of the taller trees looked very much like the rhododendron bushes found in the gardens of English stately homes, that my father had so loved to photograph. But at the time, I was far too mesmerized by the conversation to even worry about such details.

Many years would pass before I discovered the full significance of that night's observation.

The Monk continued to 'talk' with me for about 20 minutes, according to Mike, although for me it was like time had stood still. I had clearly morphed into an altered state of consciousness. Mike could see that the Monk and I were deep in conversation, and wisely did not interrupt us, even though he, himself, was not telepathically connected.

At the end of our conversation, my new Tibetan friend turned to leave, so I physically stood up, still naked, and attempted to follow him because I had a few hundred questions I still needed to ask him. 
The Monk responded by telling me, telepathically, that I had to stay because Mike and I were soon to conceive and raise a son, whom we would name Jeremy.

He then sent a pulsing wave of pure love energy directly into my heart chakra and, at the same time, opened a fold of his garment, from which fell dozens upon dozens of succulent, beautiful, fresh pink roses.

Mike also witnessed this astonishing carpet of roses, and we were both in awe of the incredible fragrance that immediately filled our tiny apartment. The monk further impressed upon my mind that to follow him, I would have to walk on the carpet of living roses, and thus destroy them with my footsteps.

Somehow I also knew that to follow him would mean relinquishing the promise of our yet-to-be conceived child and the family life that was yet to be. And I was so in love with Mike that my heart just couldn't bear to contemplate that scenario.

In the next instant, the Monk, his garden and our carpet of roses completely vanished, and our living room wall re-materialized, every bit as solid and dependable as it had formerly been. Only our feelings of awe regarding this visit, and the heady fragrance of those roses lingered.

Our discomfort at the suffocating heat all but forgotten, Mike and I excitedly related to each other our separate experiences of this sudden encounter with the Tibetan Monk. With some trepidation I told Mike about the Monk's prediction regarding Jeremy.

My (then) 24 year old boyfriend merely looked at me and smiled and said "that would be so cool!" Then, without skipping a beat, he asked:  "Do we have anything to eat, I'm suddenly very hungry!?" whereupon he went to the kitchen and raided the fridge.
Gotta love it!

Jeremy was indeed conceived within a year of that experience. And though I was tempted, I managed to resist the urge to wear a maternity frock decorated with little pink roses! Had his Mother worn such apparel, even during his gestation, my soon-to-be-techie little boy who, as a toddler held animated conversations with running water, would have been SO embarrassed!

Until our Monk's visit, and our vivid experience of that carpet of roses, I'd never consciously thought about a flower as a living, sentient being. Yet, since childhood, I had always known they were, as I used to sing to flowers, and they would sing back to me!   

Perhaps because children expect that everyone feels and understands things in the same way as they do, as a child I could best hear Nature's song whenever we visited quieter wilderness areas.  But, even as an adult, when I paid close attention, I could also hear the songs sung by the flowers that were planted in landscaped parks and gardens.

By getting into a meditative state, perhaps while relaxing after a picnic, or during a long stroll, we can more easily hear the sounds that wind and animals make around trees and flowers. 

When we listen with our hearts, we can actually hear the thoughts and feelings of those same trees and flowers. They are sentient beings, fully conscious of their own aliveness! And they can tell us some pretty remarkable stories too!  Be sure to keep track of what they tell YOU!

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SECTION 1 Chapter 2: Pink Roses (part 2) Trip to India  14 years later, Pink Roses showed up at unexpected moments during a family trip through the Himalayas in India