Category: Map Themed Dreams

Chemical Leak – Surgery – Padmasambhava – Floods – Drinks – Dream 18-03-2025

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This dream comes after many days with very unsettled sleep due to intensely painful gout(?) in my right knee. I had 60mg of Codeine in co-codamol in order to get off to sleep.

The dream starts in a very modern building used for chemistry and science. The building is unknown to me. It is in London. On an upper floor where there are chemistry laboratories with fume hoods there has been a major incident. There are youngish people lying on the floor wearing white lab coats. Some of them have safety spectacles and purple nitryl plastic gloves on. They are not moving and are dead. There has been a leak of gas a chemical leak. The gas is an organometallic tin compound, a stanyl. It is volatile. Apart from being dead they look well. I am alone on the floor and immune to the leak. Slowly I drag the bodies out on to the landing and start to pile them into a heap ready for collection. From the landing I can see the entrance atrium which is rather grand. There is a glass banister topped with a hand rail. The bodies are both female and male. They are still warm to the touch yet floppy and lifeless. The work is easy and they do not feel heavy. There are well over a dozen bodies. I pile them up easily.

The scene changes and I am with G, R and T all of whom were / are academic chemists. We are waiting in turn to be operated on. We are to have sebaceus cysts removed from our faces. The man doing the operating is completely naked and devoid of any bodily hair. His genitals are visible. He is wearing blue plastic surgical gloves and nothing else. It is my turn to be operated on. I ask him why he is naked. He replies that it is a lot easier to clean up, the blood washes off. I understand the logic. He starts to cut out two cysts from my face. One of them is deeper than the other and he makes a slight mistake. He is worried that I am angry. I say that I am not in the slightest concerned with my appearance and that a scar of the right side of my face will match the one from the basal cell carcinoma removal on the left side. I suggest that he stitches away. This he does with a dark-black thread of a thicker than usual thickness. I get out of the operating chair and leave. The others are waiting nervously.

I am now walking around London with Padmasambhava, Guru Rinpoche. The atmosphere between us is fraternal as if we go way back. He is in a dark royal blue manifestation. We get into a right hand drive old Mk3 Ford Cortina in white. I drive us down to the embankment then we get out. Rinpoche puts his right arm around my right shoulder. He points with his left hand at the Thames water level. He says that in due course it will flood London. The water level rises and as it rises, we retreat uphill. Soon large tracts of land near the embankment are flooded. We work our way up towards Victoria and then Kensington. As we get to the north side of Kensington High Street, he shows me how much of London has been inundated by the sea level rise. He comments that much of this might have been stopped but it was not. There is a feeling of bond between us as we survey.

The scene changes and I am in what once was the Norfolk Arms but now is a hotel. It is very late well after closing time. I am in the bar with G, R and T. There is a young woman decked out as a waitress with a white apron and a black waistcoat. She is drying glasses with a towel. T orders a round of drinks from her and brings them over to us. There is some conversation about the chemical leak. The time comes and it is my turn to buy a round. For some reason I forget G. He feigns upset. I buy him a drink and the woman asks if I have any change, loose coins. She says that we always run out. I pull out coins from my trousers pocket to pay for the round. Her colleague, a male comes over and counts them out. He adds them to a small metallic coin-change box. He gives me back three coins. These coins I/we know are antique, they have a patina of age upon them. The others then go off to bed in the hotel and I sit at the bar with the waitress and her senior colleague. The night is our time, we are creatures of the night.

The dream ends.

Via Gambetti – Letter – Via Marchese – nagal Dream 11-03-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream it has a distinct Italian theme.

The dream starts with me sat at my desk. The desk is small and ornate. It is designed for writing and has stationery and quills. The feel is late 18th or very early 19th century. I am wearing pantaloons which button just below the knee, they are of a golden colour. A man comes in he is bearing a letter on a metal silver coloured tray. The tray is slightly ornate. The letter is addressed to me though I cannot see my name. I can see “Via Gambetti” as the address. I sense a silent “h” as in Gambhetti. I open the letter with a paper knife. The letter is written in a deep royal blue ink with a slanting italic script. I have been waiting for this letter for some time. It is written in Italian.

The scene changes to modern times, and I am in an Italianate piazza off which is a modern exposition building. The address of which is “Via Marchese della…” or “Via del Marchese…”. I go into the hall and a young woman hands me a conference programme entirely in Italian. I read and understand it. There are many high technology exhibitors with stalls and rooms placed around the large atrium. I start talking to some young people in a group. A man is a posh suit and his PA approach. He puts his hand on my shoulder and says, “ciao, we are glad you came. Will you help us judge the best exhibit and most promising technology?”

I go off with them and enter a booth / room which is full of large screens and computers. Someone is playing a game / simulation. The simulation is a mix of military and aid, some kind of logistical clean up operation. The idea is all about logistical delivery and monitoring. I ask a young man to explain his work to me, because I am out of touch and out of date, Jurassic even. He says that he is very pleased to meet me and starts to explain.

We move on to “judge” various other exhibits. I am totally surprised in the dream that anybody would be pleased to see me or welcome my input.

At the back of the exhibition area is small seminar room which I know that I have used before. I make my excuses and nip in there to have some time to myself away from the hubbub. On the green-black rotary blackboard written in white chalk are the words “nagal exposed”. On the rotary white board amidst a multicoloured patch of marker pen is the word “nagal”. It is in relief, not coloured in and the colour of the white board behind.

I take a blackboard eraser to the white chalk and rub it out. I take a piece of blue paper towel to the white board and rub that out. I am very surprised to find these here. When I have finished, I roll both the white board and green-black board over to clean areas.

The dream ends.

Mount Isa – The Maltese – FCO – Dream 02-03-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream had between 3:30 and 7 AM. This was under the influence of prophylactic paracetamol because my back pain can wake me in the morning.

The dream starts in Mount Isa Queensland Australia. I am there aged as I was when we lived there but it is modern day. I take a look at former abodes starting with Sulphide Street, then Moore Crescent and finally Opal Street. I linger here, Opal Street, a while and then make my way to Happy Valley state school. I enter the premises and talk to a teacher. I explain that I am a former pupil and would like to take a look around. Even though I am a child she speaks to me as a parent. I explain that I am an ex-science academic from Imperial College London.

As I walk around, I meet a small Italian girl who is dressed in a deep blue frock. I know her to be the daughter of my piano teacher (Menghetti?). We are close friends and classmates.  We embrace and hold hands walking around the school as it was back then.

I decide that I need to explore and head off into town. Downtown I find a gym with adults in it. They are lifting weights and there is an old man with a wispy beard who runs the place. I go in and start to talk with him. Again, although I am small, he treats me as an adult. I lift some weights the adults are having trouble with. He says that he recognises me because I look like my sister, who was more extrovert than me. I say that yes, I am Taylor.

I walk round to the town Olympic swimming pool where I was taught to swim by Bill Sweetenham (Olympic swimming coach team GB). The pool is much as I can remember but there are added facilities.

I decide that I must go to take a look at the Leichhardt River. It is in half- flood. On the way I meet a small part Asian / Chinese girl with her black hair in platted pigtails. She runs up to me and greets me as a long lost friend. We embrace and kiss like children on the lips. We are very close and the sense is that is across lifetimes. We walk close to the river. I enjoy the spray. We need to cross the river. I see a spot and we wade across with the water being over our knees.

I understand that there is a problem with the title to some land in my father’s name. There is a dispute as to ownership. I know that this might refer to land in Mount Isa or some of the development land which he once owned in parcels near what is now downtown Brisbane. They are trying to find the estate to resolve the title.

The scene changes and I am on an airfield close to a helipad next to a hangar. The airfield is grass. On the helipad is a large white military-like transport helicopter. It is official. I head for the sliding door and enter the passenger bay. The airman grabs my hand and helps me in. He says welcome and that he is glad to meet the one who is called by many “The Maltese”. In the dream I know that this refers to my lifetime two lifetimes ago. We fly off.

Now I am set in an office, old school UK, with a shiny wooden desk and a desk light with a green porcelain like elongated bulb holder. On the desk is a white envelope addressed to me in black fountain pen ink. I pull out the letter. It is on Foreign and Commonwealth Office letterhead. Below the letterhead is a handwritten note to me.

The dream ends.

Eight Tibetan Houses (seats) Dream 19-02-2025

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This came after we watched a documentary on how China is changing Tibet, making it more Han Chinese.

The dream starts in South or Southeastern Tibet. There is a sense of Shigatze. I can see on a map eight Tibetan houses or seats. They have terracotta roofs and although they appear as houses, I know that they are seats, monasteries, in the sense of high lama thrones. They are linked to lineages and are the bricks and mortar, the physicality. I collect them in a sense. I coral them in my non-physical arms. I am wearing magenta and saffron Buddhist robes.

The scene changes and I can see the same eight locations but now I am seeing the spirit, the ethos, the essence of these “houses”. It is the near indelible mark of the spirit of these places, how they have energized the world.

I wake briefly.

I am back looking at the map of Tibet. Again, I can see these eight centres, only now I can see history, lineage stretching back over centuries. This is the past, the lineage which has been cultivated in time and through time.

I wake briefly.

I am back again looking at the map with these eight houses highlighted. Now I can see mind, mind-stream and even the awareness or consciousness associated with these centres. I sense in the dream that this represents future in that the centres live not necessarily physically but in the mind-stream, the Buddha field.

As I awake, I joke to myself that is must be weird Wednesday as opposed to freaky Friday.

Tibetan Phrase Dream Follow up

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“I start out on my route and part the way along in or near Mongolia I am given two white plaques of an irregular shape. Phonetically these plates speak in the dream. They say, “Mon yet {yat} Dzong” and “Sprul yet Tsaay” I can see the associated Tibetan script but cannot associate it directly with the phonetics.”

ཡེ (ye, “primordial”)

Ye{t} could have been je or jay

DEFINING THE TERM MON

According  to  Neeru  Nanda  in  her  article,  “Monpas  in  their  borderland-A  historical  review”  she  stated  that  the  Monpas have a local saying that; “We are neither of Gyasar(Tibet) nor of Gyagar(India),we are the Mon”. The Monpa tribe of Arunachal Pradesh represents the dominant ethnic group of the region. The term Monpa meaning someone from Mon, is used either for people living in the region of Mon or for someone who is of Mon, irrespective of region. The term Monpa or Mon are hence used as a blanket terms by Tibetan to designate certain neighbouring region or people situated to the south. In many Tibetan writings, Mon, Monyul, Lho Mon or Shar Mon refers to a region, specifying a location mostly to the south of Central Tibet. According to early Tibetan sources, Monyul is situated in South Tibet, it was also known as Lho Mon, the southern belt of Tibet before the emergence of Kingdom in Bhutan and Sikkim Lho Mon was reffered to the people who lived in south Tibet. According to the historical sources of Bhutan, Sikkim and Tibet Lho-Mon is referred to as the inhabitant of south Tibet  which  includes  Bhutanese  and  Monpa.  Lho means south in Tibetan and Mon means people inhabiting in the region. Old Mon is largely connected to an area, which includes the whole of Sikkim state, Bhutan and the Mon region i.e. the Tawang and West kameng district in the westernmost tribe of Arunachal Pradesh.

Old Mon even included the southernmost counties of Lhoka and Shigatse Prefectures, such as Mon Tsho sna and Mon Gro mo in the TAR, which are adjoining border areas to Sikkim, Bhutan and Tawang district . Besides the description of the Monpa people of the Mon region as a “Scheduled tribes” in the state of Arunachal Pradesh, the term Mon is also widely used in other parts of the Himalayan region. Presently from the eastern Himalaya to the western Himalayas, Mon or Monpa is used as an unspecific meaning of an ethnic group. In the case of the eastern Himalayas, it is used in Bhutan, Sikkim and adjoining district of the west Bengal state. The trend of differentiating these regions as being not referred to Mon prior to the eighteenth century is strong in contemporary writings from the region.

Presently in Bhutan, Mon refers to an ethnic group living in the south-central districts and to a cluster of villages in Monmola  Trashithangyed,  Chiwog  of  Serthi  Gewog  region  in  the  Samdrup  Jongkhar  district.  In Sikkim and  n  the  adjoining district, Mon is referred to the region as well as to the Lepcha tribe and other ethnic group in the region.In the western Himalayas, the region of Ladakh and Kargil of Jammu and Kashmir as well as Lahaul, spiti and Kinnaur areas of Himachal  Pradesh,  Mon  and  sometimes  Mon pa  represent  group  of  sedentary  musicians  who  are  situated  low  in  the  social hierarchy. This lower social status of Mon is further recorded in Baltistan of Pakistan. The usage of term mon is also found in Central Himalayas region, where the upland hill people called or named their southern valley neighbours Mon.

The historical understanding of the different key term Mon, in its ancient and orginal term Man, is applied by the Chinese to several ‘barbarian’  groups  related  to  the  ch’iang  including  the  people  of  rGyal  rong.  The term is found in Tibetan text of the eighth and ninth centuries in the forms of Mon and Mong, and thereafter it is applied to all kinds of groups throughout the Himalaya with whom the Tibetan come in contact. The term lost any specificity it might once have had and came to mean little more than ‘southern or western mountain-dwelling non-Indian non-Tibetan barbarian’. The present range of term must have had its first impetus in a movement from the east to the south-east, and the affinities noted above incline one to look for the main point of secondary diffusion in the centre and east of ‘proto-bhutan’; not only the language but also some of social institution peculiar to the area may have served to link it in Tibetan eyes to the true Mon of rGyal rong.  The old towers  and  fortresses  in  the  Sino-Tibetan  marches,  the  mong-dzong  of  the  Nam  text,  are  parralled by many such building which have disappeared or lie in ruins in central and eastern Bhutan and in Kameng .

Sangey Phurpa, Rajiv Gandhi University

Journal of Visual and Performing Arts June 2024 5(6), 1889–1893

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“Sprul yet Tsaay”

At a push yet {yat} tsay could be yantse

—— Sprul {emanation} from (g)yantse

About Gyantse Dzong

Gyantse Dzong is a historic fortress perched majestically on a hill overlooking the charming town of Gyantse in Tibet. Gyantse Dzong, also known as Gyantse Fortress, is a symbol of Tibet’s rich cultural heritage and a testament to its strategic importance in the region’s history. You can trek to the top of Gyantse Dzong and overlook Pelkor Chode Monastery.

Dating back to the 14th century, Gyantse Dzong served as a military stronghold, administrative center, and royal palace, playing a crucial role in the defense of the town and surrounding areas. The fortress’s imposing walls, watchtowers, and strategic location offer a glimpse into Tibet’s past as a land of ancient kingdoms, epic battles, and enduring traditions.

Gyantse is often called the “Hero City” by local people, because of the determined resistance of the Tibetans against far superior forces during the British invasion of Tibet in 1903 and 1904. It was a slow and bloody massacre of hundreds of Tibetan people, who were only equipped with antiquated matchlock guns, swords spears, and slingshots at that time. What they faced were Maxim machine guns and 10-pound cannons.

As you wander through the corridors and chambers of Gyantse Dzong, you will encounter relics of the past, including ancient murals, prayer halls, and artifacts that speak to the fortress’s role as a center of governance and spirituality. The peaceful ambiance of the fortress, coupled with its commanding presence against the backdrop of the Himalayas, creates a sense of awe and reverence for the history and heritage it embodies.

Whether you are a history enthusiast, a cultural explorer, or simply a traveler seeking to immerse yourself in the beauty and legacy of Tibet, a visit to Gyantse Dzong promises a memorable experience filled with insights into the region’s past and the enduring spirit of its people. Join us on a journey to Gyantse Dzong and discover the stories, legends, and architectural marvels that make this fortress a cherished landmark in the heart of Tibet.

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Gyantse, officially Gyangzê Town (also spelled Gyangtse; Tibetan: རྒྱལ་རྩེ, Wylie: rgyal rtse, ZYPY: Gyangzê; simplified Chinese: 江孜镇; traditional Chinese: 江孜鎮; pinyin: Jiāngzī Zhèn), is a town located in Gyantse County, Shigatse Prefecture, Tibet Autonomous Region, China. It was historically considered the third largest and most prominent town in Tibet (after Lhasa and Shigatse), but there are now at least ten larger Tibetan cities.

Wikipedia

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“Sprul yet Tsaay”

Ye-tsaay

Wisdom of the emanation?

Or emanation of wisdom?

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ɕ is a sshh sound

ཡེ་ཤེས

Tibetan Etymology

From ཡེ (ye, “primordial”) +‎ ཤེས (shes, “to know, understand, realise, cognise”).

Pronunciation

    Old Tibetan: /*je.ɕes/

    Lhasa: /ji˩˨.ɕi˥˨/

Noun

ཡེ་ཤེས • (ye shes)

  • wisdom, awareness, knowledge
  •   (Buddhism) jnana

Proper noun

ཡེ་ཤེས • (ye shes)

    a unisex given name, Yeshe

From Wiktionary

Hokkaido – Golden Pins – Tibetan Phrases – Road Trip – Dream 07-02-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream had between 4 and 8 AM.

The dream opens in Japan specifically Hokkaido. I am indoors in a hectic setting, a kind of big event hall. I am competing in a game which is part physical plane sprint racing and part abstract computer intelligence game. Each round is set off by a buzzer and the contestants have to make their way to the finish line within the context of the duality. In the booth next to me is a tall slim Japanese man. The buzzer sounds and the race begins. In both scenarios he just beats me. I come second in the race.

We both go over the left of the finish line in the computer world and in the thing which holds up the finish flag are the positional pins. We each select a tiny golden micro-pin which has the positional letter. My pin ends in a golden 2, his a golden 1. I place the pin in my shirt pocket on the left hand side of my chest. The race repeats several times and each time the result is the same. I soon have quite a collection of golden two pins in my shirt pocket. The “competition” finishes.

I am then walking through a busy brightly lit mall. I am in a food court in which various Japanese food outlets are selling street food. The atmosphere is pungent and very lively. The food on offer is highly coloured and from around the globe. I cannot decide. I walk over to a burger joint and a Japanese woman asks me what I would like. It is her job to serve me and be of assistance. She is very friendly, lively and with excellent English {UK}. I say that I would like a small burger and fries and for her to surprise me. She brings my food over together with a large bottle of top-end Japanese spring water. She sits next to me and helps me to eat.

I go back to my rooms; they are executive and above parr. I am unsure as to what to do next. I have no return flight. So, I start to look up flights from Sapporo to Queensland Australia. The Idea being that I land in Townsville or Brisbane and buy a second hand car to drive to the Isa {Mt Isa}.

I pause and take a stroll. Outside in the car park is my ex-wife. She is in a beat up camper van and I can hear her snoring. The van is a mess. I go back inside. She knocks on the door. I open it. She asks how I am coping with the water. Just fine. She says that she had problems getting served at the food court and did not like the tap water. I say that she probably had problems communicating. With the Japanese it is very important to listen. If you don’t listen carefully to what they say they consider you rude and vulgar. I say that listening was never one of her skills. I point to the bottle of top-end spring water on the side and say that she can take it back to her camper van, her brumby. This she does…

I hear the song from Men at Work, I come from the land down under, “travelling in a beat up brumby”.

I decide against going to Queensland.

Instead, I must take a road trip. I see in my minds eye a map showing Hokkaido and Sapporo with mainland Asia and Vladivostok. I know that I can easily get a boat to Vladivostok and that I could drive from there to Wiltshire. I resolve in the dream to look up a route on AA route planner when I get up. I know that I must go via Mongolia and that it will be a long trip.

Here is AA Router planner route Vladivostok to Calais. Distance ~ 8000 miles.

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I start out on my route and part the way along in or near Mongolia I am given two white plaques of an irregular shape. Phonetically these plates speak in the dream. They say, “Mon yet {yat} Dzong” and “Sprul yet Tsaay” I can see the associated Tibetan script but cannot associate it directly with the phonetics.

The dream ends

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Sprul

The concept of tulpas has origins in the Buddhist nirmāṇakāya, translated in Tibetan as sprul-pa (སྤྲུལ་པ་): the earthly bodies that a buddha manifests in order to teach those who have not attained nirvana. The western understanding of tulpas was developed by twentieth-century European mystical explorers, who interpreted the idea independently of Buddhahood

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1) Trulku (in Tibetan: sprul sku) — Literally the “emanation body” of a buddha. In a Tibetan context, a trulku (often given the epithet rinpoché, “precious one”) denotes the chosen reincarnation of a lama of high spiritual stature. A trulku usually inherits his (or her) predecessor’s prestige, wealth, and institutional seat. Important trulku lineages include the Dalai and Panchen Lamas and the Karmapas, who originated the tradition in the thirteenth century

2) sprul sku (སྤྲུལ་སྐུ) (Tibetan; in Sanskrit: nirmāṇakāya) — (lit. “Emanation body”) — Within the compass of the formbody, the aspect of a buddha that appears for the sake of ordinary sentient beings. A single buddha may manifest multiple emanation bodies, which may be in human, animal, or inanimate form. The “historical Buddha” Śākyamuni is generally regarded as an emanation body. The Tibetan term for emanation body, trulku, is used to designate a deliberately reincarnated lama

Sprul

སྤྲུལ་ send forth an emanation; emanate; emanation

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Mon

མོན་

Bhutan; Mon, a district in Tibet

Mön

Mon. Name for lands to the south and southwest of Tibet

Dzong

Dzong (Tib. རྫོང་, Wyl. rdzong) — literally a ‘fortress’, the equivalent of a monastery in Bhutan.

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Le dzong du Bhoutan est un monastère-forteresse bouddhiste caractéristique du Bhoutan.

Les premiers dzongs furent construits dans le pays dès le XIIe siècle, mais leur âge d’or fut la première moitié du XVIIe siècle qui vit le renforcement défensif du pays par le shabdrung ou grand lama Ngawang Namgyal (1594-1651), l’unificateur du Bhoutan moderne.

Kabwe – Tuskers – Dream Follow Up

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I have not long watched a shaky video on YouTube of someone going into the Tuskers Hotel in Kabwe Zambia. It was weird given that I have not seen the place since well before 1978. But I recognised the restaurant immediately. We went there with a buddy of my father from Mount Isa. A woman moistend her nipple and stuck it in the sugar bowl thence to feed her child. My father’s friend was {apparently} a closetted homosexual and very shocked.

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Here is a satellite image of a part of my old world from Google maps. You can open the image in another tab.

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To the top left you can see a pink flag, Kabwe Safari Lodge. We lived two houses to the left on the opposite side of the street. You can still the vegetable garden which Tembo, the gardener made. Tembo is swahili for elephant.

Bottom left is the golf course where during the school holidays back from school in the UK I played golf most mornings.

It was there that I had Rock Shandies. I have had a few of late. I have just ordered some Angostura Bitters on line.

To the upper mid right you can see a grey flag with a cross in, Sacred Heart cathedral. To the right of that is the convent scool I attended for a few months in mid 1974.

Bottom right is a pink flag Tuskers which was, I think, the Hotel Intercontinental once.

In the middle right is a violet flag, the big tree national monument. A baobab under which people met and held markets. They used to do haircuts there too. I had my hair cut there prior to the photo on the quantum dreamer picture taken at the Lusaka high commission just before my tenth birthday.

Tuskers is only a few blocks from my old house about one kilometre away.

Bridge – Posh House – Special Needs -Cooking – Dead Drop – Filing Cabinet Dream 02-02-2025

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The first part of the dream was had between 6 and 6:31 AM this morning. I then went back into the dream.

The dream opens with me driving down a bitumen private country road on an estate towards a bridge over a fair sized river, tens of metres across. There has been recent flooding. I drive onto the bridge and see that the far side of it has been eroded. Nevertheless, I can drive off the bridge and continue on. I am less sure about the return journey. I pull up on to a large, gravelled parking area in front of a large house / mansion. It is quintessentially English and similar to that of one of my prior tutees. The sense is that I have come here on a similar purpose of teaching.

I knock and enter and am welcomed by a man of similar age to me dressed in tweeds. He ushers me in and inquires about the journey. I mention the bridge. He says that the lads are working on a lash up. He shows me into a lounge like area and we are joined by his wife a younger woman with dark hair. It is obvious that they are both upper class, she in particular. Their accents are clipped.

We make our way out. At the side of hallway there is a white computer screen upon which are cartoons portraying the weather of the day in some detail. I comment that it is a nice simple touch. They look at each other in a light hearted conspiratorial manner.

We go to inspect the bridge. I can see that it will be difficult to get my car back on the bridge. In the dream I know that it will be easy for me to pick it up by hand and place it onto the bridge, even though it is a normal sized normal car.

The lads are sailing a barge downstream towards the bridge. It has a military style pontoon bridge on it. They anchor and secure the pontoon in place. I get onto the pontoon with them and lift a car which is already on the pontoon off onto dry land. I can and do drive my car over the pontoon and park up the other side.

I am now sat at table with the woman and her two sons We are in the orangery and the youngest son is serving us a curry from a deep sided old style metal mass catering serving tray. It has handles which are lose and held to the tray with rivets. The meal is good. He asks if I need some more spices to thicken the sauce. He offers me a small plate upon which are turmeric, cumin and garam masala. I say that the curry is just fine as it is, lovely. The mother is delighted. She is wearing blue jeans and an expensive pink jumper.  I say that I like things simple. They all look at each other. I say, “you lot as a family have got something weird going on about simple.” They all smile.

The older brother is doing very well in school but the younger one is seen as a bit odd. He has some special needs. I say to them that when I was a little older than the younger lad, I used to do a lot of the cooking for the family. The younger teenager says that he does too. There is a peculiar instant sense of bonding between us.

I wake up and go to the loo. The wife says that I have been kicking about.

I try to return to the dream.

I am back at table in the orangery. The woman is sat where she was previously but her jeans are unzipped to reveal light pastel blue underwear. I am not sure what this means. What has transpired, what she wants. It then dawns on me that she is indicating that both the boys came out of her.

The younger boy then takes me by the hand and leads me out of the orangery and into a walled garden. The walls are made of very red bricks and the garden is where chef grows his herbs and vegetables. The younger lad is a friend of the chef.

He takes me behind a small green house and eases a stone out of the wall. It is like a cold war dead drop. In the cavity there is a white piece of paper which at first looks to have nothing on it. The lad puts the brick back and unfolds the paper upon which is a map of sorts sketched by hand.

The lad leads me from the walled garden into the basement kitchen and thence to a basement room. He turns on the fluorescent light overhead. The stark lighting reveals a number of filing cabinets. He shows me one in olive-khaki green. The drawers have handwritten labels which have yellowed with age. The writing has been done with a fountain pen is a sloped script which I know to be that of a female. There is a locking bar down the face of the cabinet. At the bottom the padlock has been removed by the lad. He shows me it. Implicit is that the key is in his trouser pocket. There is a sense that this archive dates back to the second world war and that nobody knows what to do with it nor can they decipher it. It has been in the safe keeping of his family.

The dream ends.

Helm Stack Map – Boris Johnson – Interview Dream 17-01-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is last night’s dream had between 12 and 2.

The dream starts with a view of a map of Cornwall. On the map I can see a rock stack between Land’s End and the Scilly Isles. The rock stack is called Helm Stack. It is very specific. {On checking there is a Helm Crag in the lake district}.

The scene changes to an ornate room with an antique table and chairs. It feels like Whitehall or St James’s, a bit gentlemen’s club. I am sat one side of the table. On the other side is Boris Johnson and two emeritus professors whom I have not met. They are interviewing me in a manner similar to the appointment of junior faculty. Their tone is condescending.

Johnson is his usually ebullient yet dogmatic self. He is trying to chivvy me along to answer. His manner is having exactly the opposite effect.

They are asking me questions based on their socio-political world. They are based entirely on the form side of life and events which may have taken place therein. I answer accurately using as few words as possible. This does not help them. They are asking all the wrong questions yet are insistent in carrying on. They think they are right. I know in the dream that there is no way that they will accept or understand that the way of approach is entirely wrong.

Dream ends

* Table is the dreaming symbol for need to resolve problems.

Guardian – Elephant – Dream 14-9-13

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

In the dream and the dreaming….

I am shown a map. It is a map of Japan. On the East side of Japan there is a place. It is The Gateway to freedom and enlightenment. I am the Guardian of this place.

No-one passes through – except by me.

People are annoyed that there is only one such place. It is not “where” people think it is. Nor can it be found as a physical locality, for it does not have one.

Many seek it, but it cannot be found, except through me.

People think that this Gateway is guarded by dogs or savage beasts.  It is not. It is guarded by an Elephant and that Elephant is me.

Many seek this Gateway but they are all using the wrong methods. I am the Guardian of the Gateway. It is a place and yet not a place.

Dream ends.