Category: Musings

“Spiritual” Journeys

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

I have used inverted commas quotation mark here because I struggle a little with how words have in a sense become tainted by multiple usage and being bandied about as PR. Spiritual as a word has had its impact and meaning downgraded to the point of near meaninglessness.

I am going to attempt to put into words something which I have hesitated to do. It is close to impossible. This cannot be undertaken without emphasising just how important a few years of my childhood were in my development, in this life. One constellation in particular left its mark deep in my psyche.

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It was by its light during an English language common entrance exam that I foresaw events near two and a half decades later. It was the harbinger and the key of a volte face in life. I left the harbour alone in my coracle adrift upon the Southern ocean lit by its solace. I left Cape Town after being burned on table mountain.

Later I had another foreboding which was also to find consummation over a similar time delay. Each of these were pivotal. That foreboding prevented me making a UCAS university choice against the advice of my school teachers.

When I was young and in an English boarding school as an expat child I got to read the lessons and the prayers in church. While the others sat with parents. It was like a duck to water that I took to the lectern and the prayer “chair” deep in the nave. There I found St Francis of Assisi.

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« Seigneur, faites de moi un instrument de votre paix.
Là où il y a de la haine, que je mette l’amour. »

« C’est en pardonnant qu’on est pardonné,
c’est en mourant qu’on ressuscite à l’éternelle vie. »

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This man was in tune with the Mahayana bodhisattva ideal. His words touched.

Unfortunately those with the skill of a chameleon can adopt any mask, any direction, any character they choose. Believe me I learned how to blend. And in blending one loses authentic essence.

At the end of my schooling I took general studies courses in Buddhism, cooking and Rastafarianism. Ever Jah, ever loving, ever faithful. Rastafari. I read all that I could on witchcraft and alchemy. I made “friends” with the librarian in our town.

The Buddhism was presented in an intellectual descriptive manner in which the various fetters were enumerated for debate. Although I understood, the manner was for me boring and definitional. I sensed beyond that which was being professed. It was during intense meditation sat in seiza at karate that I learned that I had in fact been meditating all of my childhood. I used to sit and observe. I used to wait. I was touched directly by the dreamtime out in the shimmering bush of western Queensland. The aboriginal pointing stick had cleaved something open.

And then when I went to university I mostly forgot. By the time I was doing my Ph.D. research I figured that I had found something I was good at. So maybe this was the future. I enjoyed “pissing about with lasers”. I was to an extent, life and soul of the party. It was only in the early nineties that I started to withdraw, as if driven by a deeper current, out into the hills, the mountains and the countryside. It set up a kind of imbalance. On the one hand was a “normal” life and career. On the other there was silence and quiet. My reading was more intellectual philosophy, science and philosophy of science. I noted that despite mundane academic achievement many of “the greats” struggled with non-salary paying bigger questions.

I was offered a choice. Fort Collins Colorado or Bern Switzerland. One of those would have brought me quicker into contact with things “spiritual” than the other. The Swiss francs were certain, so I saw the Berner Oberland and learned painfully of “qualität”. Something which I tried thenceforth to express.

In the mid nineties at the place of my prior foreboding I was brought to my knees. Despite writing excellent research proposals I was stymied and unfunded. A grudge held by a “competing” senior academic could kill a proposal with a mere word. I had a breakdown. The answer to life the universe and everything could no longer be found in the laws of quantum mechanics and thermodynamics. It seemed there was more. It was around then that my ambition faded and the picture of a life academic dimmed. I began to search in earnest. I opened myself up wide. Again I largely forgot and tried to rebuild a life after breakdown. For some unknown reason money for research and start-up came more easily. I was “successful” for a while.

In the very early part of this century I was tested by power. I had a taste of it and did not abuse. Like Galadriel I refused the ring and was no longer sorely tempted thereby. It was around this time that a series of what might be called micro-renunciations began. In which step-wise I renounced or was forced to renounce the accoutrements of normal life. Each one was more difficult and profound than the last. Slowly life was stripped of all that made it busy and hectic. Until in the middle of 2006 I renounced all and walked off into the metaphorical “wilderness”. Dramatic as that sounds, at face value it looked simple, at core it cleaved and parted, severed and up-ended.

I did not become a wandering mendicant with charnel grounds for abode nor skull cup for beverage. Though adrift I most certainly was. I had already learned as a child, the nature of impermanence. Strangely without accoutrement life did not cease, the world did not implode, nor did it stop.

When you are thrust  from an Outlook calendar ruled life, with hours dissected into segments, with meetings set for you, with each action seemingly accountable, into nothing. The meaning of time changes in an unalterable and irrevocable way. It is no longer a spreadsheet thing. The boxes, the rice paper walls of the day, dissolve.

At end of 2008 I left the map so to speak. I began a series of meditations which went beyond. There was nothing, despite my research skill, which I could find written. These “meditations” continued in the UK in houses close to civilisation yet separate in the English countryside. I can say that the rigor of these was high and they continued for many years. In around 2010-11 I began having Buddhist dreams.

In the early part of the century whilst still teaching physical chemistry I had a series of waking visions in which I had “om mane padme hum” tattooed on my forearms in Sanskrit and with me in monastic robes. These visions were sufficiently powerful to be present whilst I was lecturing Chemical Reaction Kinetics to undergraduates in South Kensington. It was around then that I got to express my compassion for others, to care for them.

Overlaid on a “Toltec” background was a distinctly Buddhist vibe.

All the while I had a seemingly normal life as a married man doing for quite a while “A” level science private tutoring. The outer world and the inner world differed and markedly so.

To me as a member of the elephant dreaming class there is no problem with the scholastic wisdom teachings of Siddartha and the more dramatic Toltec corpus. The latter is a guide, when viewed with clarity, to the navigation of glamour and illusion. There is probably only one truth expressed via many different approaches. The Tower of Babel has a lot to answer for…

This is probably enough for today…

Pluralitas non est ponenda sine necessitate

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

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Le rasoir d’Ockham ou rasoir d’Occam est un principe de raisonnement philosophique entrant dans les concepts de rationalisme et de nominalisme. Le terme vient de « raser » qui, en philosophie, signifie « éliminer des explications non nécessaires d’un phénomène » et du philosophe du XIVe siècle Guillaume d’Ockham.

Également appelé principe de simplicité, principe d’économie ou principe de parcimonie (en latin « lex parsimoniae »), il dispose d’une ancienne formulation :

    Pluralitas non est ponenda sine necessitate

    (les multiples ne doivent pas être utilisés sans nécessité)

Dans le langage courant, le rasoir d’Ockham pourrait s’exprimer par les phrases : « L’explication la plus simple est généralement la bonne », ou : « Pourquoi faire compliqué quand on peut faire simple ? » Une formulation plus moderne est que « les hypothèses suffisantes les plus simples doivent être préférées (il faut et il suffit) ». C’est un des principes heuristiques fondamentaux en science, mais ce n’est ni un principe de départ ni un résultat scientifique.

Le principe fait appel à une simplicité en termes de nombre d’entités, de concepts ou d’hypothèses utilisés, et non en termes de complexité de leur combinaison, les deux se contredisant généralement : si vous avez une explication d’un phénomène par la combinaison de deux causes séparées, le principe incite à rechercher une cause unique plus profonde qui serait à l’origine des causes préalablement postulées, ce qui donnera finalement, en cas de succès, une construction plus complexe mais avec un nombre plus réduit d’hypothèses.

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One of the interesting thoughts for me which pertains slightly to this blog relates to finding an internally consistent and comprehensive explanation as to the nature of the dreams I have had and which are archived in this blog. I would genuinely be interested to hear any explanation from the psychology / psychiatry profession which attempts to explain the scope of them. This specifically so given my prior training as a scientist and current life context as a relatively socially isolated retired person.

Those dreams which appear to point at previous incarnations can be discounted as merely dreams. There is no need to invoke the hypothesis of reincarnation. But saying things are just dreams is a bit of a handwaving dismissal. It is not entirely satisfactory.

Invocation of the single hypothesis of reincarnation renders explanation easier in context and does not require any complicated theorising as to just why or how come I dream about, inter alia, Buddhist themed, dreams. Inherent in this is a difficulty because it suggests that there needs to be some mechanism of transfer of memory between different lives, different incarnations. It raises the question as to what exactly is the nature of the “thing” which not only reincarnates but which is able to carry memory and recollection in the absence of a biological body. The neuroscientist is likely to prefer a brain and perhaps evolving synaptic scaffold construct to explain memory. Such a thing cannot exist beyond the soft wet matter of living humanity. There is no biological or biochemical hypothesis which can account for the notion of memory transfer between lives. The science fiction writer or scientifically inarticulate new-ager might say, “it is all in the DNA”.  If it were, it is not facile to explain how “Buddhist DNA” found its way to a small valley in the foothills of Snowdon. Yes my mother when tanned could pass for an Indian especially if she wore a bindi. But the DNA explanation does not really wash. My dad was ginger.

The easiest explanation is to blame an overactive imagination on my part which somehow breaks though during sleep. Perhaps there is a part of my deep sub-conscious which wants to be “special” and thereby invents some new DSM-5 type nocturnal mental disorder, the classification of which could be career enhancing for some psychologist or other. I have a form of delusional psychopathy which may or may not be common. After all who in their right mind would make dreams like mine public? Best kept secret to avoid public gaze. We can come up with the Whacko McNutjob persona.

The fact of the dreams and their recall are, at least to me, real. My speculation is that they are not “common or garden”.

This does not require the invocation of significance. I am just some bloke who happens to dream a lot. No biggie…

Provided that they are not significant there is no wider problem or issue.

If however we invoke, even tentatively, a putative wider significance, a gamut of implications might surface. A similarity to mystical vision and quasi-religious imagery can be drawn. In some circles that is significant in terms of context and perhaps faith. The follow on question might be, “why does someone who, was for a short while, deep in the UK based science community have such phenomena?”. This community being the self-assigned debunker of myths and pseudoscience. “Bah!!”

One could say that weird stuff happens, end of story. It  / he is just an anomaly.

The easiest hypothesis is that the hundreds of dreams archived here are all “just some shit that I made up”. The follow on to this is that I must therefore have at least some imagination and persistent inventiveness. One could counter with the deep philosophical argument, “you just can’t make shit like this up!” I am not sure as to what the motive might be for this inventiveness though others could speculate freely. Maybe I am simply an attention seeker. Maybe it is all some big game to make people question the extent and wider applicability of their self-diagnosed omniscience.

For me it is just habit. If I have a dream which I can recall and am lucid in, when I get up of a morning,  I type it up in Word.  I sometimes make a short note on a post it before typing. There are close to 100 dreams in 2025.

I personally have no strong need to pick an explanation and have that as a definite. A part of the art of dreaming is to enjoy the unknown and the partially or poorly explained.

I can see multiple implications which will almost certainly never manifest. Life circumstance does not support these weekly possible trajectories. There is nothing I can do about it.

I could say something groovy…

The coalescence of the dreaming onto and into the physical plane is not easy. Surprisingly little, though nascent in dreaming, makes it through into the “agreed” and “shared” physical plane realties.

He is just a feckless dreamer, head in the clouds…

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Each of us make our own versions of reality not all of which are entirely apt.

Socks on – no crutches…

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

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It’s a Mystery

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Somewhere in the distance

Hidden from view

Suspended in the atmosphere

Waiting to come through

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Toyah

Written by: KEITH HALE

Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Downtown Music Publishing, Kassner Associated Publishers Ltd

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This morning a little after 7 AM I did something that I have not been able to do for many months, I put both my socks on, all by myself. The socks are so-called diabetic socks which means that the elastic is not overly tight. The socks are designed to limit need for amputation and are loose. But I managed it with little or no drama.

Yesterday afternoon less than two weeks after surgery I was walking up and down our living room without any crutches whatsoever. I probably did some 40 metres without any crutch. Now I have to be careful to not learn an accentuated limp.

Not bad for two weeks…everyone seems mildly surprised at just how quickly progress is being made. If you would have asked me to bet on it, walking in two weeks, I would not have made a significant wager.

Long may it continue.

Last night I had a dream with a couple of people from my undergraduate chemistry cohort in. The dream also referred to a very specific date and cross referenced another dream also with a specific date. Why I have eighteenth century dates in dreams has no obvious explanation. It is a bit of a mystery perhaps related to the time-walker thread…

During the night the smoke detector started to beep. I can say that taking a smoke detector off from high on the wall when perched on a spiral staircase and unplugging the battery whilst recovering from hip surgery mildly trolleyed due to codeine is not ideal. New battery now fitted and smoke detector is back in place.

Anyway the guys from the hunt are here and hopefully they will deal with the wild boar situation…

Yes really, wild boars…

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Last night and the night before we have been visited by one or more wild boars. They are a bit of a pest around here. They have made a mess in two large patches of the lawn which will cost hundreds to repair. There is nothing that I can do about it now being incapacitated. The wildlife has already been more present in the garden as I/we have been spending less time there due to the arthritis. They are reclaiming it.

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We have called the local Mairie and members of the “hunt” are due to visit during the day. It is one of those things which you do not need, wild boars messing up the lawn. Hopefully the hunt geezers will have some suggestions. I cannot shift our heavy gate at the moment. Maybe there is some other way of scaring them off. Maybe piggie is still on the premises.

Something needs done in case the little buggers come back tonight…

If they manage to get it, it could add to the Christmas festivities…

That me and Kevin we’re just not the same…

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

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Although I do have a research paper co-author who is a University Challenge quiz winner and am a regular viewer of past series of University Challenge which  I quite like, I am not the same as Kevin. Since we have been watching YouTube re-runs my average score has risen to the point where I might even be a slightly above average quiz team member. I have been accidentally learning the answers to questions. I can respond Pavlovian to certain questions. I am now slightly programmed.

We try very hard to get people to fit to our preconceived ideas, notions and prejudices about how people should or ought to be. Very few measure well to the perfect Kevin yardstick. We reach for that shoe horn and try real hard to squeeze them into the shoe we have imagined for them. If people are not  sufficiently like Kevin we can be upset and complain. We may discard them outright because of their lack of apparent Kevin-ness. We can throw the poorly made Kevin ersatz out with the tepid and soapy bathwater. Kevin himself never gets the blame it is merely the poor attempt at Kevin-hood. Kevin is a perfected and illusory ideal.

I am pretty sure that in a number of contexts that I am not sufficiently like Kevin to be taken seriously and thereby can be easily discounted. People do not believe me because I am not like Kevin. Kevin is the reason that many things have gone wrong or not even gotten started.

Anway enough about Kevin.

Tonight we have Beef Karai on the menu.  I am going to use the last of my hand ground Karai spice mix to do us a curry. Not sure yet if I am going to add some flaked almonds but probably will add a few dried apricots. To make it a tad more Persian inspired. We will see.

I have made it up to the local supermarket to participate in the shopping. I walked around mostly using only one crutch. Bit knackered now…can be done.

Last night I upped the codeine and managed for the first time to get near six hours sleep. If that continues tonight I will be well happy.

The next hurdle will be driving up to the physiotherapist’s clinic. Possibly early next week. It is already a lot easier getting in and out of the car than before I had the operation. The guidance in the US and UK is more contra than here. Things here can be a bit loose {imagine shoulder movement and hand gestures}.

Unfortunately I am still technically speaking obese. Although I have lost ~4 kg in just under two weeks I am still defined obese, a fat bastard. According to the NHS web site I have to lose another 8 kg to stop being obese. Not sure if I am supposed to aim for that or not…

I will be more like Kevin then…

Following the footsteps of a rag doll dance…

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Not all cultural references are directly transferable some are “time of life” and others are “time of man” related.  I personally view myself as being on the conservative side in that outwardly I am not outlandish. It always used to amuse me how the “goths” had less of an idea of the shadows than I did.

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But Siouxsie et al. were definitely a part to the soundtrack of my life.

In the “A Discovery of Witches” TV series the notion of the main protagonist being spellbound has come to the fore. In which her parents cast a spell which both hid and prevented the usage of her powers. She was literally bound by spell or spell bound. The narrative suggests that this practice was usually reserved for insane witches and that it was a harsh thing to do, to prevent the person from living to their full potential, to inhibit and otherwise hinder them. The back story is that the “creatures” are forced to hide from the discriminatory humans and their notions of normality. Humans are depicted as prejudiced. The story also has “time-walker” as a top echelon witchcraft skill. A lot of the plot revolves around “powers” of a magical and special kind. Power ever being the motivator for political intrigue, shenanigan and skullduggery. Somehow Diana is able to summon an old text which may or may not hold the secret(s).

In physics a lot of stock is made upon observables and making an observation. If one in any way makes an observation one changes the system. For example if one “observes” a photon using a detector that photon changes the energy state of an electron. The photon ceases to be. The energy has been transformed from one thing to another. At a very local and very tiny level every act of observation changes the system.  Science rhetoric is less explicit as to the nature of interpretation and subsequent assimilation caused by the observation, the act of observation. One could say that the observation of a “handful” of particles in a science experiment can have a truly dramatic and wide ranging impact because of interpretation and assimilation to or with a previously held thought form or model. I might infer that a photon is the witness to an act of proton transfer. My observation hints at a physical process. Any observation changes the system and it cannot be undone. If I talk about it down the pub that handful of photons triggers synapses and a train of thought heads off on whichever trajectories.

I have always had a few problems with the notion of time travel because of observation. It is impossible to travel back in time without altering its forward propagation. Although pleasant as an artistic and entertaining notion it is philosophically tricky. {Ok there may be some time reversal events at sub atomic levels that I am unaware of but these may be mathematical legerdemain}. In terms of karma time travel is also problematic.

In my mind it raises an interesting thought line. “Does reminiscence alter the past or merely our recollection and narrative assimilation thereof?” We do not travel back in time to the acts of perception but how we retell what we “remember” does change our futures because our basis for world interpretation has altered if only slightly.

If for example you held a view that I was a complete bastard and you hated my guts, then any future interaction would be coloured by this framing. If on reminiscing you decided I was only a partial bastard then you have already changed the future. Your change of mind changes the future(s).

Time-walking may be seen as a reinterpretation of events previously observed. Bearing in mind that the apparatus of observation must of course be error prone and never 100% accurate. Not all instruments are sensitive nor well calibrated. We do not actually go back in “physical” time rather review our mental registers of how we have constructed the time evolving narratives. We could re-consider, re-view and possibly re-perceive. Much like an astronomer may apply correction factors to space telescope raw data. There is some “algorithm” which enables (perhaps) a more reliable assimilation. We may refuse to apply said algorithm because we are stuck in our ways and like to cling to old perceptions, prejudices and world views.

The quantum mechanics of a 75kg lump of wet proteins and fats going backwards {or forwards} in time do not seem plausible. Perception and “mind” however are clearly much less physically tangible. In a sense these may be able to travel along what might be called time-registers. In the absence of matter time has no meaning. In a sense time as it is measured is a property of matter (vibration or time to travel between spatial coordinates). How we currently measure time is by the observation of photons in a fancy physics rig.

To extrapolate wildly by measuring time we are changing our futures.

Total Hip Replacement – 9 Days In.

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When I was looking into getting this done I found that the available information on line was a mix of promotional advertisement for services, mildly patronising video and that statistical outcome based discussion was sketchy. Urban legend, in other words the ubiquitous they, say that for everyone they know the operation went well and the results were better than before.

I understand that I am at the lower age demographic for osteo-arthritis induced hip replacement and that my disease was more advanced than most. This means that I was probably more handicapped to start with.

The question that always came to my mind was, “who had the first hip replacement and how did they persuade the poor soul to let them loose with the hacksaw?” “Which genius was sufficiently convinced that they could make things better?”

It is pretty clear to see that without operation my decline would have continued and perhaps accelerated. In this sense it could be said that advanced osteo-arthritis is by way of a slow killer. The will to live is gradually ground away like pepper corns in a pepper mill. It is an erosion of body and hence life.

I was ready for the operation.

My dressings are due to be changed tomorrow and thanks to the technical excellence of French medicine so far all seems ok.

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The overall experience at the relatively new private hospital at Plérin has been very good. The cleanliness and general ship shaped and Bristol fashion of the place build confidence. Having experienced several operating theatres I can safely say that the facility there is the best I have been in. The team were very good.

The sense I get is that the whole thing has been a tad over dramatized on-line. But maybe this is testament to the high quality of care I have received. A lot of stuff on-line is old and perhaps historically out of date.

I did not expect to be able to tie my shoe laces in under a week.

I did not expect to be able to open my legs in “box-split” direction as far as I can.

I did not expect to be able to pick things up from the floor…

The weirdest thing is, without doubt, feeling movement and motion in my right hip socket.

The pain levels have been tolerable though modern hospital medicine errs on the side of under medicating. Our GP is of a different view, old-school, and more keen to prescribe pain relief. We have a stocked home pharmacy so to speak. The wife has been very helpful and understanding.

In comparison to when I had fractured my left femoral neck six years ago the experience has been much easier so far.

But nobody has mentioned the difficulty sleeping which I am experiencing. Which for me is perhaps the most difficult part of the recuperation. I have sufficient medication to completely zonk out but I am aware that this comes with constipation and an elevated risk of fall. I have had two nights with two periods of around two hours continuous sleep over the weekend which has been an improvement.  

This is the area I am keen to see improve fast.

It can see the improvements in movement already. I am able to stand and cook stir-fry for around 40 minutes; I can take a shower and on Friday with the aid of crutches I walked around half a kilometre at the local port. Because I have experience from the injury before I have an inkling of time scales.

I can walk around the house with a single crutch. This has confirmed that I am in fact left handed. The amount of stuff I use my left hand for has become so obvious as that is my single crutch hand. I was “trained” to be right handed. But is pretty obvious I am not.

I have walked ten metres without any crutches. So I can see the progression.

I estimate that I could probably drive the car. It is easier getting in and out than before the slice and dice. The advice is not to drive and while I am still a visitor to the “opium den” this is wise. 

Boredom during the waking hours of night is perhaps the most irksome. Luckily shit TV is a good soporific.

All in all I am feeling a whole lot better and am more functional than we had anticipated and planned for. All those preparations have worked out worthwhile and made it easier for us both. It is mildly surprising in a pleasant way.

We shall see how things progress…

The Sleeper Must Awaken – Dune

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I came out of hospital yesterday with a newly fitted prosthetic hip. There remains pain but already I can sense enhanced movement. While I was in hospital I was re-reading “Dune” by Frank Herbert. As I suspected the text differs from some of the screen adaptations. What can be said with some certainty is that Herbert had a wide and vast imagination. To create self consistent “worlds” of that scope and complexity is no mean feat.

The Dune series have had a fairly deep impact upon my life, somehow it struck something of a chord. The observation  of politics religion  and power therein is well considered.  It presents a world in which the power of prophecy has massive impact. Where sayings passed on down are used to change the course of history. In the first book it introduces Paul Atreides the ducal heir and one who might fit the foretelling of Kwisatz Haderach. It shows how seeds of “prophecy” sown by a religious order can be used to manipulate events.

Paul hears perhaps his own Delphic entreaty “the sleeper must awaken”. In which he is in search of his true inner self. In his case this refers to a latent power and skill set . In the narrative he is the first of kind and struggles with what his nascent prescience suggests. He is caught in a perception where time is not distinct, quantised,  where past present and future are to an extent co-extant. This notion that we all might want to wake up to our inner potential is one which is perhaps universal to all of humanity. We need not lead a quasi-religious war simply work on self. In order to fully awaken Paul takes the potentially fatal “water of life”. This is an initiation of some sort after which he is markedly changed.

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It is not lost on me that perhaps by analogy my dreams bring snippets of prior lives. I have fallen asleep in between incarnations. And perhaps extrapolating wildly I too need to wake up {some more}.

I am fairly sure that I had no choice in making the life choices I made about two decades ago. No matter how much I may have tried to shoe-horn myself, it just did not work. That was a waking of sorts. I am now at a bit of a watershed. We prepared for this operation over weeks and now there is a little limbo to heal in. In the new year we shall find out if hip number 2 is a goer or not. {It probably is.} It seems mildly anti-climactic for now.

Because I am not really sleeping due to pain, for now I am not dreaming. This may of course change tonight or any night after that. The physio has been and I now ache…

It is kind of weird but I did not feel so drawn into Dune-world this time. The sands of Arrakis were a nice contrast to my LED lit sanitized new hospital room and bed. One minute it was blood pressure measurement next it was a gom jabbar…

The story of initiation and rite of passage is a common one in the arts and literature. It is in the ceremonial magic of award of university degree. The near step function change from before to after is perhaps dramatic. Yet all churches including science have rites. This includes Nobel prizes.

Every time I read Herbert I do wonder at the scope of his inner vision. It was pretty epic.

Massive Dreaming Symbol – Omen

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

When the universe attempts to catch your attention it can do so in some unmissable ways. On Friday the wife dropped me off at a new private hospital for my hip operation and returned home to wait. I was due in for ~10:30 AM. It was slightly icy on the outward journey

When she got back to our house there was a big to do and someone had flipped their car over into our drive.

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The downward slope is our drive. This kind of thing is hard to miss. It stands out.

A car is the dreaming symbol for state of awareness (vehicle) . Someone unknown to us had flipped their state of awareness over into our drive. House is the dreaming symbol for view of the world. So just outside or very close to our view of the world someone had rolled over and otherwise flipped their view of the world, turned it on its head, completely.

No one was badly hurt but it made me wonder if other people, perhaps in a plural sense, had had their state of awareness with respect to us {me} flipped on the head.

We may never know…

A dream had while I was coming round from anaesthetic follows.