Category: #Reincarnation

Spiritual or Soular Challenges and Karmic Merit

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

I have been mulling over this subject on and off for a number of days now. It is surprisingly difficult to put into words nevertheless I will have a go.

I’ll start this off with a postulate.

In any given lifetime we are presented with challenges which we are required to face in order to evolve. We must endeavour to engage with these with as much willingness as we can muster and try to face them and learn therefrom. They are pivotal to our development as incarnate beings and are a requirement of/for our Souls. They are a part of the lessons we chose to try to learn for ourselves in selecting our birth.

Whether or not you agree with this postulate does not matter especially in the context which it sets up. It frames life no matter if you believe it or like it or think it is poppycock. If the postulate holds it has consequences spanning lifetimes. If you do not accept the postulate and yet it still holds it has consequences. If it is a pile of bull I made up because I was bored and it is raining outside there are fewer consequences. You are “free” to act like an arrogant arsehole should so wish.

Place your bets…

Modern life has boundaries and laws. It has social contracts and is heavily laden with social expectations. There are the itchy back game endless transactions. There are thousands of “shoulds” and “oughts”. These are to an extent culture and peer group specific. Some things are expressed in law and in general it is wise to follow these laws or you could find yourself fined or in gaol. These are “hard” and are relatively non-negotiable. The shoulds are more bendy. The requirement to behave according to a “moral” code is partially enforced by humans and peer groups. These are subject to the vagaries of time. It is no longer socially acceptable to black up for a black and white minstrels show. Morals are flexible and some consider themselves less beholden than others. But you can get cancelled and if you hang out with a famous paedophile in your Y-fronts it can change your future.

Often that which seems too good to be true, is. People like shiny things and fail to appreciate the price attached. The free lunch is a cornerstone of mythos.

The Soular challenges that I am thinking about are not required by law, nor by peer pressure , nor social compliance. Even if you might “get away with it”, by not doing it, these challenges ask that you rise up above that mentality. In listening to your Soul you have no choice but to be utterly impeccable even if that has to it a seeming cost, pecuniary, social or otherwise. The reward is karmic merit gained and a heart enlivened because you have been at your impeccable best.

Doing things when there is no pressure to do them and when nobody else sees them is not something which transactional beings tend to do. There is no apparent immediate reward. There is no “look at me” kudos to be had.

Simply an impeccable and often compassionate act is sufficient in and of itself. It is satisfactory. There is no drum roll, no heralding trumpets. No great big drama.

The acts which gain karmic merit are often to be found in overcoming selfishness, pettiness and greed. They may be invisible to others. But karma has eyes which see more than the profane. These acts are nearly always about “getting over your-self” and they engender a wider humility and understanding of the universal and not the me-personal. Most of all these acts are about attitude. If the attitude in benevolent and not seeking of personal reward, the acts have a nice hue, a rich colouration. There is a subtle perfume to them. They smell nice.

But in order to engage with these challenges one is required to overcome social fear. Often one has to stand out from the crowd in some way. One has to make some kind of an integrity based stand. Which may have a price. In most cases the barrier to doing the act has been bigged-up to gargantuan proportion. Only hindsight concludes, “what was all that fuss about?”  The mind and little-self does its best to dissuade.

Most of these challenges are to do with mind and perception is some way.

Spiritual and Soular challenges can be very subtle indeed. The opportunity is readily missed in the maelstrom of modern living.

There is no, “what is in it for me?”

This mentality of reward and even bribery of a kind is far too prevalent in our times. It does not generate karmic merit.

To do a genuine, as opposed to for show, 180 degree shift away from personal reward is not to the liking of most.

But if you want to evolve you need to change the way you think, the way you act and the way you orient towards life. Otherwise you will stay the same. It is not rocket science.

If you have been lucky enough to have a relatively easy incarnation then chances are it will have a number of subtle yet very important challenges for you to face. You gave yourself the wherewithal so to do…

You can try to run and hide from these challenges but that is not an evolutionary attitude, is it? If you are too important to face your challenges and learn from them what does that say about your attitude to learning and evolution? Maybe you are already so evolved that you are above all that…

Evolution after all is just for the plebs….

Inspecting Budda Relics Dream – 22-01-2026

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is last night’s dream which finished around 3 AM but which was subsequently revisited on going back to sleep.

The dream starts in a brightly lit room. There is a sense of subterranean of basement and of vault. The overhead light is bright like a fluorescent light but there is no hum. I am sat at a very large  lab-bench like table but which is large boardroom size. I am on the only chair in the room. The table is a work table for inspection of artefacts. It feels forensic and museum like. The air is treated for humidity and is slightly warm but dry.

The door opens and in walks a man and woman. They are younger than me and wearing a dark olive green curators uniform with trousers and short sleeve shirts. The uniforms have been immaculately pressed. They are both wearing white jeweller’s gloves. The woman has curly blonde hair held back in a clip and the man is dark haired. The man places an object in front of me. I know this to be a reliquary containing pieces of Buddha’s body or so the narrative goes. The box is the size of a tissue box. It is on four curved ornate legs which have an animal {query lion} foot finish. The whole thing is made out of an exquisite light yellow gold carved in a motif of India query Sri Lanka. The pattern is exquisite, fine. The box is surprisingly light. I know that it has a mechanism whereby the lid can be rotated to reveal two compartments. One of these is smaller than the other. Without opening the box I know that the compartments have a red “felt” lining. I inspect the box from the outside. The workmanship is impressive. The woman looks at me for permission and then picks the box up and together they leave the room.

They return. This time the woman is carrying a small cloth bundle. It is square shaped with a depth of a couple of inches. The cloth is folded over and over to make a parcel. She handles it with reverence. The cloths are heavy and exquisitely woven with a fine shiny silken thread running through it. There are layers of a purple-ish base fabric cloth and a rich red-magenta cloth. The cloth is luxury.  She places the bundle in font of me on the table. I know that it is Tibetan-Himalayan in origin and that it too contains a relic of the Buddha. I pick the bundle up and inspect it from all sides, paying particular attention to the bottom. I am holding it in both hands just above my head inspecting.

{This relic is “privately” owned and on loan.}

As I do this I see a “wall” to a room or cave. The wall is made of a grey sandy granular sedimentary rock. In my mind’s eye I touch the rock and it starts to crumble and flow away leaving a couple of small pillars about 20 cm tall. There is an opening in the wall about 40 cm wide and 20 cm tall with pillars of a few centimetres thickness and a void or opening behind. There is a sense of a store or a cache behind the wall. In the dream I know that in this space are other relics pertaining to Buddha and his corporeal. I can see that the cache extends to both the left and the right of the opening in the wall.

I return from the vision and place the unwrapped bundle back on the table. The man signals to me and I nod. He picks the bundle up and they leave the room.

They return and this time the man is carrying a clear plastic sample storage drawer. It is around 10 by 10 cm on the front face and has a depth of about 30 cm. There is a catalogue card with number and content written in German. There is an acquisition date and I understand it to be a museum piece kept under preserving conditions and attributed as a Buddha relic considered by some a part of Buddha. They place it on the table in front of me and nestled on a bed of tissue paper and with a moisture absorbing paper silica sack is a small bundle of jet black felt cloth held together with a thin golden drawstring. It is a small bundle.  

The man and the woman, the curators, stand back behind me one on either side of me and against the wall.

The dream ends.

Two Babies – Lingpa – Dream Snippet – 15-01-2026

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Here is last night’s dream snippet had around 2 AM. It was somehow important to retain and I wrote the word lingpa down on a yellow post it note before taking my medication and putting the coffee on. The idea being that I would ask Google later.

The dream starts in a poorly lit dwelling. The ceiling is not high and I can smell smoke from a fire at the far end of the room. There are a mother and family there. They are dressed in heavy dark coloured clothes. Standing there in an animal fur jacket and with a hat with ear flaps is a taller man who has a presence of some power. He is armed.

He is looking down onto a roughly hewn crib in which are two babies swaddled in cloth and wrapped tightly up like an envelope. Their heads are also tightly wrapped. They have ruddy cheeks and dark eyes. The woman says to the man, “here are the babies, the twins”. I can see the man from the cot and the babies from the man.

 He says that they are Lingpa, ling-pa. That he will take one to the monastery and one to be raised normally. I know in the dream as a baby that he is talking about me-us. I know that the dream is ago. I know that even if we are separated we are two sides of the same. We are connected intimately.

The woman is a little in awe of him. He says that he will return and that for now nothing must be said.

As I am coming to I know that I have to remember the word Lingpa. I do not know what it means and wonder if it is one of the various schools of Tibetan Buddhism. It seems familiar but not.

I wake and drift off again.

Several times during the night and in the dreaming I recall the word and sound Lingpa.

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gling pa

གླིང་པ
Lingpa (title of great tertons, person on a continent/ island, sanctuary [IW]

1) usual title of great tertons. 2) people on a continent. 3) sanctuary. 4) Lingpa [RY]

Lingpa. A title usually appended to the name of a terton, revealer of concealed treasures. Literally, it means ‘sanctuary’ of peace and happiness for beings [RY]

Source – https//rywiki.tsadra.org/index.php/gling_pa

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My Death – pārasaṃgate – Phowa – Dream 04-01-2026

~ quantumdreamer ~ 1 Comment

Here is this morning’s dream / vision which started around 5 AM and which persisted and replayed many times after that. It is now an “event” which I can hold and “visit”.

The dream starts with an elevated view looking down on a man in a magenta monastic sleeveless tunic with his hands held in his lap. They are in partial mudra. He is sat on a carpeted floor loosely cross legged with back leaning against a bench or sofa for support. He has a light faded plumb coloured blanket over his shoulders which has an inlaid fine embroidered pattern. I know him to be dead and my erstwhile body.

The scene changes to before. I am sat up in a hospital bead with a painted white metal frame. I am in a nursing home or hospital like facility. I call a nurse to me. I say that I think it is time and could she bring be my blanket and the cat. I am helped out of bed and down the corridor to a “sitting room”. I sit on the floor with my back against a bench. On each side are cloth privacy medical screens on metal frames with wheels. They are light blue-light green in colour. I am shielded from view. People in the corridor cannot see me. A mid-sized oxygen cylinder is brought and laid horizontally on the floor. A small clear plastic tube runs from the cylinder and is looped once around my head. There are two small outlet tubes which are fitted to my nostrils. The gas is flowing. I can see that the pressure regulator on the cylinder is tending towards empty. It is not yet in the red. The orderlies are not concerned because I will probably die before it runs out. I make myself comfortable on the floor and my grey cat is brought to me. She is very much like Bowie the stray cat we “rescued” here. I am given the cat and she sits briefly on my lap. I stroke her and she nuzzles. She then wanders off. Two attendants come with my blanket which they put around my shoulders.

I adopt the infinity mudra in which the thumb and middle finger of each hand are touching each other and the two rings so formed are intertwined to form an infinity or 8 sign. As I do this in the dream I can feel the “chakras” in the palms of my hands and feet instantly energised while I am sleeping in “real” life. It is “electrifying”.

I start to chant quietly to myself in the dream.

“gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā”

Slowly this changes to deep voice. I then focus on my crown or sahasrāra chakra which I “unscrew” to open it in readiness. I am making the way clear for me to go beyond form.

The scene changes to several weeks ago in the dream. I know we are last century. I am in the hospital bed and discussing with two white young male doctors. I am explaining to them that I need to make preparations for my death, my passing over. They are unconvinced that such thigs are necessary. Medical science does not believe in them. I suggest that there may be some things that medical science does not yet know and ask that they please humour a dying man. What I am asking is harmless and will not upset the running of the facility. One of the doctors says that he still does not believe me. I say that we shall see because I know that the time is approaching soon. We will find out. Not today but soon. They agree to help out.

I am now sat back down on the floor. I can feel that my face has been recently shaved and that I have bathed. I feel clean. My hair is still in a buzz cut growing out, a few millimetres long. I focus again on the sahasrāra and continue to chant lightly slowing fading this out. I can feel a first wisp beyond my body. The view shifts so that I am sat observing the body as if in a mirror. We are close a few feet apart. Slowly out of my crown a golden-yellow cloud of mist rises up and swells out. Like a murmuration of sorts. In amongst it I can see flecks of shining gold which catch the light and there are deep flecks of indigo-blue near glass-like threads and like tiny shiny fish scales. The cloud is filled with tiny sparkly mirrors glistening in the unusual supernatural light. The cloud moves slowly and expands.  I look down to the hands. I can see them and feel them. At the moment the cloud is still anchored in the body. The right hand opens the finger-thumb mudra to break the infinity seal and the cloud detaches from the body. The head previously upright lolls slightly forward in what I know to be my physical death.

I look at the cloud for a while and then my consciousness merges with it, into it. I am liberated of body. I wait in the room for a while and then it is gone from view.

I wake knowing that I have seen a death of mine. Over the next few hours the scene replays. I know that I died consciously in this dream and vision. I know that I had prepared and that it had mostly gone according to plan..

Buddhism – Rinpoche – Dream 22-12-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream had after 6 AM this morning. It is out of the blue considering what I have been exploring in terms of old French manuscripts.

The dream opens in the front room – sitting room in a large home in the English home counties. The wife and I are visiting a young woman and her family. She is a younger version of Dupinder from Aussie MasterChef. In the dream context she is an ex-student of mine and early twenties. She has a nice posh English accent with only the faintest hint of Indian accent. We are there with her sister and mother and father. They are middle-upper class and moderately wealthy. They are highly educated. I say that people like her family have added a great deal to UK culture and life. Their springer spaniel dog comes in and they are worried that the dog will bite or snap at me. This is its usual behaviour with strangers. It comes over to me and I offer it my right hand in a loose fist to sniff. It is very suspicious and growls slightly. I re-offer my hand and emanate warmth along it. The dog sniffs it and then sits to lick my hand. It lets me stroke it and then lies down in front of me, close, calm and happy.

I notice some Buddhist texts on the table and small statuette of Buddha. I comment to “Dupinder” that I did not know she was Buddhist.  She says that yes they have been going to the local temple/centre on a regular basis. Her parents have been life long and as of late she and her sister have taken to it too. I ask what denomination. She says that they are Theravada and no fuss Buddhism. I explain to her that I have more than a passing interest. She boots up her lap top and shows me pictures of her centre. It is housed in a wider building run by Tibetan Buddhists as a cross denominational dharma centre. On the outside of the building I can see Tibetan writing and roman scripts. The building has been purchased using the wealth of the Tibetan Buddhist “church” in exile. I ask who oversees the project and she says that Rinpoche does. I inquire further and she says that Rinpoche, a supposed Tulku, is titular head of the dharma centre but others run it day to day. The centre is in a town just outside the north of the M25.

At this point her father interjects. He asks me if I am a Rinpoche too. He has had a sudden intuition that I am. Caught slightly off-guard I say that yes it is more than possible that I am a Rinpoche, a reincarnated lama too. He says that he suspected this from the moment he first set eyes on me and from the way his daughter has spoken of me. He says that he thinks that I should go to the dharma centre to see if I am recognised. I say that I don’t think that it works like that. Me tipping up in such a manner would not go down well. For some reason he is very happy and he invites us all down into the big conservatory to have a light vegetarian snack / dinner. There are metallic thali plates with curries in little bowls, rice and breads.

The dream ends.

Pluralitas non est ponenda sine necessitate

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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.

The Sleeper Must Awaken – Dune

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

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.