Category: Reincarnation Themed

My Rosary – Dream Vision – 26-08-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is a dream / vision from the early hours last night.

“I am in a room, white wash loose sealed but only partial illuminated by small brass (?) oil lamps. I look down at my arms and they are brown and less hairy than I am used to. I am holding a beaded “rosary” and passing the beads between my fingers.  These are roughly the size of the top of my middle finger. There are not spherical, a sort of rounded cylinder pea shaped. They are made of a stone like “wooden” brown material which is at first cool to the touch. As I run the beads through my fingers I come to an amber bead which is much smoother. I note it. I continue. On the opposite side of the rosary chain / circle is another amber bead. This one is slightly larger.  I hold it up to the light. I can see an entire mosquito-like insect preserved in the amber. It is a thing of marvel. The rosary has two amber beads amongst all the dark brown ones. I am hearing “om mane padme hum”  as I run the beads sequentially through  my fingers.”

Derek Jacobi – Cats – Vance – US Visitors Dream Sequence 13-08-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is last night’s dreaming sequence of three distinct though somehow interrelated parts. Out of the blue….

The dream starts in England, in autumn, outdoors, walking along a leafy path in parkland. I am with Derek Jacobi and we are slightly ahead of a small grouping of British theatre luvvies. The wife is with the second group, with Emma Thompson. We have been wined and dined at a pub like The Spaniards in Hampstead. The conversation is flowing and everyone is excited. We are going back to someone’s mansion / house which is nearby. Jacobi and I are talking about philosophy, deity and Shakespeare a prime passionate interest of his. He is being his usual erudite and expressive self. He is asking me multiple questions about “back then”, previous lives. We pause at a clearing and sit on a stump for the others to catch up. We are being celebrated, feted even. The others catch up and Jacobi leads us off; he says that dinner is being prepared and we did not ought be late.

I awake. The shutters are partially open to let the air flow on a hot night. The window is open. Gandalf the stray cat is patrolling the window sill. She meows several times. I mentally debate whether to acknowledge her. I cough she hears and soon departs. I imagine she is seeking reassurance that I am there. I intuit that she is somehow guarding us.

Back in the dream we are downstairs in our current house. Bibi the indoors official cat is with us. In the garden we can see Gandalf. I open the large sliding “floor to ceiling” veranda style doors. Gandalf comes in greets us and Bibi. They go to sit on a large white leather sofa which is somehow against the wall by the log burner. In the garden a third black cat appears and it too enters the house, greeting us and sitting near where we are standing. A tallish woman with mousey blonde long hair comes into the garden. She is wearing an expensive trousers and blouse combo. She is slim and taller than me. She is forties of age and American sounding. With her are mice, rabbits and other small rodent like animals. They all follow her into the house, a/her menagerie. She says hello and that she is new to the area. The wife asks her name. Ivanovich or Ivaniaovich or something like that is the phonetic reply. Her first name may be Irene. Another large light brown cat with very long hair comes into the garden. The cat inspects us but does not come too close. She says that this too is her cat, his name is Vance. He is aloof and does not mix well. He thinks he is important. Vance walks around keeping his distance. He is high maintenance, she says. She winks.

The next scene is set in a very modern rental house with several levels and a designer garden. It is our temporary home; the feel is non-descript European. Staying with us are an American couple they are high functioning and high powered. The wife somehow knows the female from before. We have had a party the night before and wake up to a messy house. I am taking coffee orders. Felix {the probably dead stray cat} is asleep on the white sofa with Bibi and Gandalf. Felix meows at me and goes to the sliding glass window. He wants to go outside for a shit. I let him out. I explain to the woman that he likes to shit outdoors. I get coffees and give one to each of the couple. I go upstairs to ask the wife what she wants for breakfast. Garlic cheese on toast is the answer. I say that she can have cheese on toast with coffee and that I will bring them up to her in due course. I go back downstairs.

We look out the window and a garden robot like a mower passes by. It is expertly raking the gravel around the roses and pulling weeds. The garden is low maintenance self-clean a design of the architect who designed the dwelling. I say that this explains everything. I had wondered why the garden looks fresh each morning. The woman gestures to me to follow her outside. I do. She takes me aside out of earshot of her male partner. She says that later in the year in Colorado they are going to have a celebration and wedding. She asks me if I will speak at the wedding and perhaps officiate the service for them. I say that I would be delighted to do that and ask her what nature of service she would like. She says a non-denominational service based on beings and the universe. I say that I am sure that I can prepare the words. She says not to mention it yet to her husband to be. He is already onboard in principle and there are a few other details she wants to sort out. She shows me a picture of the Colorado mountainside venue. They have already booked a suite for the wife and I.

The dream sequence ends.

Fate or Self-Determination?

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Many imagine that they have partial control over their lives, their circumstances and the trajectory of those lives. I have used the plural lives here which might be a moot choice for those who do not believe in reincarnation. Already people might want to debate singular or plural. Their own minds may not be certain, “do I cark it and that is it, or am I reborn?” This is quite fundamental in terms of outlook. They don’t imagine that the entire trajectory of life can pivot on a few tiny things.

If those marking my undergraduate exams in 1985 had given me one more mark and Sue one less. We would have tied for the last remaining SERC Ph.D. quota studentship. The organic section already had a lot of applicants, the inorganic chemistry section less. The decision would have been to grant the supervisor of my third year research project the studentship and I would have done a Ph.D. in the synthesis of Pt and Pd mixed valence compounds with X-ray, FTIR and Raman. I would have become an inorganic chemist of sorts at UCL and not gone to the Royal Institution nor helped moved the group to Imperial College. At some stage down the line the UCL trajectory could have led me to doing coherent Raman spectroscopy of GaAs growth at UMIST. Here the two possible trajectories could have remerged. This could have led me to the Interdisciplinary Centre for Electronic Materials and to Imperial.

But my life would have been markedly different in the meantime. I would not have formed the same “relationships”.

When Sue transferred to UCL part through her degree I helped her catch up on the course. In effect sealing my own fate by an act of kindness. Without my intervention I would have “beaten” her. Of course I could also have smoked fewer spliffs and not gotten so pissed on a regular basis too.

Seemingly innocuous happenstance can nudge life trajectory more than you imagine. Is it down to fate or is it down to the integral over all the decisions we make? I prefer the notion that fate has a considerable hand. Others do not like the idea that some external force has influence and control of their lives.

BUT.

If you choose your incarnation then you have in a way self-determined your fate by the choice of vehicle into which you incarnate. There may be a fate but it was caused by your choice.

–

–

At the moment the residual fate in this life looks pretty simple. No big deal, no big external dramas and marginal significance to the world at large. I am very unlikely to have much ongoing wider significance. If it is fated there is no intervention required of me. If it is fated otherwise something might happened outside the compound to change things. I don’t have to be in any way proactive in this respect. If it is fated, it will happen.

Tomorrow, I have a urology appointment to follow up on my elevated prostate specific antigen (PSA) test. I don’t have cancer yet according to the guidelines of how these things are assessed. But the way the PSA numbers are going it will not be long before I fall into the right numerical regime to mean that I have cancer or at least warrant another hour long session in the high resolution MRI machine or an invasive biopsy. I may get a prostate exam. The trajectory of our lives might take another turn, if it is so fated.

–

–

There are many who really don’t like this notion of relying on fate. It is core belief and orientation for me. My dreams help me evolve my fate in accordance with what I, the indwelling dreamer, planned at birth. I have made huge life changing decisions based on dream interpretation. Some of which were very hard with difficult consequences. I was fated to dream and fated to use those dreams to guide this life.

Of course I may seem like a complete nut-job to some. But if so, it was always fated thus.

I am open to the fact that there is not much left fated for me to do in this life. Why would one not accept one’s fate? Even were my life entirely governed by self-determination there is precious little that I can do to alter life circumstance as it stands. It looks like fate has me “cornered” so to speak…

Shit happens… you may as well relax into it…take a deep breath… this will only take a few seconds…

Novel Conductors – Counts of Penthièvre – Tapestry Dream – 03-08-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is /are this morning’s dream(s). Had between 5 and 7:20 AM. The juxtaposition is notable.

The dream starts in abstract space. I am viewing a three dimensional crystal lattice, a molecular / atomic model with atoms as small, coloured spheres and “bonds” as lines. The model is not space filling. I can see a cage structure made out of group 1 metal ions which extends in a quasi-one dimensional linear fashion. Inside the cage are molecular halogens chlorine, bromine and specifically iodine. There are / can be different variations of group  1 and halogen. The halogens carry a negative electronic molecular charge and are in an extended multiple electron delocalisation brought about by the confinement caused by the ionic cage. There are Cooper pairs. Outside the cage are several strands of the charged delocalised halogen thread. Outside of this are more metal ion cages with halogen conducting cores. The whole is entwined like threads in a heavy duty wire with the halogen “fibres” providing electrical neutrality for the positive metal ionic cages. I know that the material is a very good conductor in one dimension as a wire. This is a new and revolutionary type of material yet to be made.

The scene changes and I am in the kitchen of a tall thin building. It has an “Amsterdam” or Dutch feel. The kitchen is on the ground or basement level. I am looking out the back window onto a small, enclosed garden / courtyard. The kitchen sink is in front of the window. The wife comes in dressed in the light green yukata. I ask her what she has been doing. She has opened the door to the “secret” room on the top floor of the house. It is the fourth floor at the very top of the stairs. I say that I didn’t know there was a room / floor. She say that yes there is, it is a bit messy and I should go to look for myself.

Wearing a white waxed paper disposable overall and with safety specs and small respirator, I go into the room at the top of the stairs. It opens up into a couple of rooms painted white with an open door into the second room. I run my hand along a small white painted beam which forms the strut for the roof. Some paint flakes off. There are some wardrobes in the far room otherwise the floor is empty.

I go down stairs and just as I near the front door an old style bell on a pulley door bell rings. I open the door and it is Elizabeth Hurley. I invite her in and usher her to the kitchen. It seems that we know each other from before. We go into the kitchen and the wife greets Elizabeth. They sit next to each other at the kitchen table, sink side. I ask the wife if there are any clean towels. Yes, in the bathroom. I go up to the bathroom and take the overall off wrapping a light blue towel around my waist with a white t-shirt on the top.

I go back into the kitchen and Elizabeth and the wife are wrapped up in luxurious rich fabric tapestry. One side is vibrantly embroidered and the other is of a very rich creamy-white velvet like support. The tapestry is several metres long and they are having a cwtch together like long lost sisters under the tapestry as if to keep warm on a winter’s night.

Elizabeth says that she has been investigating her forefathers some of whom were biologically related to the Counts of Penthièvre. I say that when we first moved here to Britanny, I looked into Breton history going back to the founding Welsh saints and St Illtud in particular. I say that the history of the Counts of Penthièvre is tied closely to that of Eleanor of Aquitaine. The times relate to my priest – crusader life in some way. We have been to Fontevraud Abbey where she, Eleanor, is said to be buried.

The scene changes and I am being ushered into the drawing room of a very plush mansion like house.  Very Brideshead. I am meeting a tall quintessentially English man. {Imagine Charles Dance as a movie villain.} The man is expensively dressed and is standing by a fireplace which is black metal enamelled and shut. There is an ornate flower pot with dried flowers and potpourri. There is also and old fashioned radio with a wooden outer cover and extendable aerial. The man welcomes me in and we are talking about funding some research into the Counts of Penthièvre. He is concerned that I am a gold-digger and in some way after his estate. I reassure him that I have no biological connection to his family. As we are talking a programme comes on the radio which is talking about the Counts of Penthièvre and Breton history. He sees this as a good sign and is well disposed to funding.

The scene changes and I am on the driver’s seat of an open horse and cart with a dark haired Greek man. It is sunny and cobbled. He has the reigns and the whip. We are going to meet some of his family down at the port. He reminds me to be Greek because that will help with my inquiries. I playfully gesticulate and grimace. He smiles and says that already I am perhaps a bit too Greek. We are like bothers who have known each other long. My antics make us both laugh.

The dream(s) end.

———————————

From Wikipedia

In the 11th and 12th centuries the Countship of Penthièvre (Breton: Penteur) in Brittany (now in the department of Côtes-d’Armor) belonged to a branch of the sovereign House of Brittany. It initially belonged to the House of Rennes. Alan III, Duke of Brittany, gave it to his brother Eudes in 1035, and his descendants formed a cadet branch of the ducal house.

The geographical region of Brittany that constituted the holdings of Penthièvre correlate closely with the territories that constituted the early Breton kingdom of Domnonée.

The history of the title Count of Penthièvre included frequent dispossessions and restorations. Henri d’Avaugour, heir of this family, was dispossessed of the countship in 1235. The Duke of Brittany, Pierre Mauclerc, founder of the Breton House of Dreux, gave it as dowry to his daughter, Yolande, on her marriage in 1238 to Hugh XI of Lusignan, Count of La Marche. John I, Duke of Brittany, Yolande’s brother, seized the countship on her death in 1272. After the Breton War of Succession the title was dispossessed twice by the reigning Dukes of Brittany, once by John V and another time by Francis II.

——————————–

Eleanor of Aquitaine (French: Aliénor d’Aquitaine or Éléonore d’Aquitaine; Occitan: Alienòr d’Aquitània ; Latin: Helienordis, Alienorde or Alianor; c. 1124 – 1 April 1204) was Duchess of Aquitaine from 1137 to 1204, Queen of France from 1137 to 1152 as the wife of King Louis VII, and Queen of England from 1154 to 1189 as the wife of King Henry II. As the reigning duchess of Aquitaine, she ruled jointly with her husbands and two of her sons, the English kings Richard I and John. As the heiress of the House of Poitiers, which controlled much of southwestern France, she was one of the wealthiest and most powerful women in Western Europe during the High Middle Ages.

——————————-

Ildut (forme bretonne courante) ou plus correctement Iltud (d’après la forme galloise), ou Iltut ou encore Elchut (voire Ideuc), est le nom du moine breton (soit insulaire, soit armoricain) Illdut de Llantwit, devenu saint.

Considéré comme le père fondateur du christianisme celtique, saint Ildut est fêté le 6 novembre.

Origine du nom

Le nom breton Ildut se retrouve dans le nom de lieu Lanildut, et le nom de l’Aber-Ildut, tous deux situés sur la côte nord du Léon.

Le nom gallois Illtud, parfois transcrit en anglais Illtyd ou Eltut, est associé au monastère de Llanilltud Fawr, au pays de Galles, lieu anglicisé sous la forme Llantwit Major qui est le nom de la ville qui s’est développée autour.

La forme latinisée du nom est Hildutus de Iltutus qui évoque qu’après la baptême l’enfant est ainsi appelé car protégé, en sureté, mis à l’abri (cf. tutus).

Candle Vigil – Koyaanisqatsi – Jaguar Shaman – Strange Group Dream 25-07-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ 1 Comment

Here is last night’s dream, strangely out of context with our current life and way of living.

The dream starts in South America on the mainland, perhaps Western Caribbean, on the connective peninsula. I am walking along a path cleared into the jungle at dusk / early night. I come upon a sunken built structure which has downward going stepped stone seating, a bit like a Greek theatre

–

–

The construction is totally circular and the “stage” area is of the same grey stone at the rest of the amphitheatre. The construction is ancient South American, Maya or Aztec or some such. The radius is about 50 metres and there are at least half a dozen seating rows. It seems very familiar to me. On each step / seat is spaced a circle of lit candles in tumbler size glasses of various shapes and colours. There are hundreds of them. On the stage there are concentric circles of similar candles around a central circle empty void. The candles flicker lightly in the wind. I know this place to be a reliquary of living souls, each candle a spark of life. They have gathered to meditate on the state of the world. Against the darkened backdrop of the surrounding noisy night time jungle, here is a sanctuary.

The scene changes and I start to see scenes like from the film Koyaanisqatsi where rushing images of “normal” hectic life with its chaos and destruction are playing out on a “screen” in the mind’s eye. I hear chanting of Koyaanisqatsi over and over in a deep low voice as per the film. I know beyond any doubt that the world is badly out of balance, out of whack and out of kilter. The madness of the human “dream” is in full flow, justified to itself and thoroughly destructive. Unaware and largely uncaring. Caught up in a ceaseless rhythm of hectic.

The scene changes and I am now in a large open native kayak. There are two boats. We are paddling along the shore past jungle and two large settlements. It could be the sea or it could be a wide part of the Amazon River. We are around twenty metres from the “beach” and the jungle behind. I know we are being tracked and I catch sight of a magnificent jaguar easily keeping pace with our boats, jogging slowly in the forest. She is watching and observing. I can feel her muscles and see through her eyes. She is a totem of THE jaguar shaman, a spirit of the jungle, free and untrammelled. I see back through time to a ritual in a clearing of the jungle where I am enacting the convergence of the jaguar shaman. I have a jaguar pelt on my shoulders. As I enact I become and am the jaguar.

The scene changes to an urban setting; there are a group of people seeking to join or affirm their membership in a wider group. People have been accepted but must now make their public telephone call with their “mentor”. The sense of people wanting to be a part of is strong. I see one black man roughly my age make his call which we can all hear. In that the mentor slowly gets him to submit verbally. I think that this is coercive. Others make their call to belong to the “wonderful” organisation. The do decamps to a large pub near Hampstead Heath. People are queuing out of the door to buy their drinks. The black man is there and his mentor is going to buy him a drink, in a wait your turn fashion. I walk straight up to the bar and buy two pints of beer from one of the bar staff who know me well. I usher to the black man to join me in the beer garden. He follows and I explain that this has been cult like behaviour and he had better get the out sharpish.

The scene changes and the images of and sounds of Koyaanisqatsi close out the dream in a repetitive sequence.

The dream ends.

Occam’s Razor and Past Life Recall

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

———————————————————-

Occam’s razor

In philosophy, Occam’s razor (also spelled Ockham’s razor or Ocham’s razor; Latin: novacula Occami) is the problem-solving principle that recommends searching for explanations constructed with the smallest possible set of elements. It is also known as the principle of parsimony or the law of parsimony (Latin: lex parsimoniae). Attributed to William of Ockham, a 14th-century English philosopher and theologian, it is frequently cited as Entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem, which translates as “Entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity”, although Occam never used these exact words. Popularly, the principle is sometimes paraphrased as “of two competing theories, the simpler explanation of an entity is to be preferred.”

This philosophical razor advocates that when presented with competing hypotheses about the same prediction and both hypotheses have equal explanatory power, one should prefer the hypothesis that requires the fewest assumptions, and that this is not meant to be a way of choosing between hypotheses that make different predictions. Similarly, in science, Occam’s razor is used as an abductive heuristic in the development of theoretical models rather than as a rigorous arbiter between candidate models.

From Wikipedia

——————————————————————-

Last night we watched a 1997 film called “Contact” with Jodie Foster as the main protagonist among a {now} star studded cast. The special effects were naïve by todays’ standards. The film misused the notion of Occam’s Razor; the simplest explanation was that she did indeed travel to a civilisation near Vega. The film argued that this was too convoluted and did not happen whereas the counter explanation of cunning hoax which was way more convoluted and complicated was acceptable and true to the government. A simple inconvenient truth of interstellar travel was rejected in preference for a hyper-complicated adherence to what normal accepted, science and wisdom insisted.

Rules in science are kept, often way past their sell by date, exceptions and first, second and third order corrections terms are added, one must flog the life out of a dead horse rule. “Science” is so conservative that in worshipping at the temple it does not have to get called up to serve in the IDF. Elvis however did national service.

In the blog under the heading “Reincarnation Themed” in the column to the right are collected a number of dreams which are “Ronseal” dreams. A possible explanation is that elements of past life recall are implicated.

–

–

It might be possible to come up with some convoluted psychological hypothesis as to why I had these dreams, maybe invoke some DSM-5-TR defined criteria for some disorder or syndrome. It could be an act of creative writing on my part. I could have smoked way too many spliffs as a young man or simply be a tin-foil hat wearing rainbow unicorn jockey. I could be whacko the nut-job, from Loony-Ville Alabama.

The simplest explanation is that they contain elements of past life recall. Occam’s razor therefore suggests that this is more likely.

Unfortunately past life recall is not deemed possible by some.

If history teaches us anything it is that things deemed impossible, and adamantly so, can and do prove feasible. Once it was deemed mad to suggest Cholera was a water born disease. History suggests that the prevailing THEY are often wrong yet vehement and assertive. They refuse to accept that they could be in error. Power must not be yielded to plebs and upstarts.

The self-diagnosis by THEY of their own omniscience is rarely a sound diagnosis.

Anaesthesia – Antwerp Dream 15-07-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

This afternoon I had a colonoscopy under general anaesthetic. In recovery I told the woman in charge that this was the first dream I have had and recalled under anaesthetic.

The dream is set in Antwerp something like two hundred years ago. I am as “pony-tail” man though now of a middle age. I am with a young man who is wearing a knitted sweater / jersey he has very light ginger curly hair and a sunny disposition. He is one of my relatives, a nephew perhaps, a younger generation. We are waiting on his friend who has a horse-donkey driven cart. It is very rudimentary. When he arrives, we all set of for the port.

A ship, galleon like in appearance, has just docked from its voyages down the West coast of Africa. On board someone has something for me by way of jewels in a pouch. At the port there is chaos as sailors get off and cargo is unloaded. There are hawkers and prostitutes. We park the cart. My “nephew” is ultra-excited as he knows the man onboard who works with me. My friend descends the gang plank he looks emaciated and very dirty. He sees us. My “nephew” runs towards him and hugs him. I get closer. It is summer so I have only my white blouson shirt on the top half. He has a coat because he now feels the cold of the North. We embrace and I can smell the stench of him. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a velvet like purse drawn together with a red ribbon. In it I know are jewels, rubies and emeralds. He knows that I will knows who will buy these. He quickly puts the purse back into his jacket so that it is not seen.

I awake as I am being wheeled out of theatre into recovery and am surprised at the contrast to the Antwerp port and cool high technology hospital. The air is odourless. I do a double take.

The Old Guard and Toltecs – Speculations

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

The second instalment of the Old Guard series has recently hit Netflix. It has a shared plotline of sorts with the Highlander movies of ere. In this Old Guard dramatization physical plane immortals exist adjoint humanity and interact to either good or bad effect depending on mood and predilection. In Highlander in the end there can be only one in the battle between good and evil. In the Old Guard series “Andy” the main protagonist has fought to help, aid and otherwise nudge humanity in a “better” direction. Instead of reincarnating she has one contiguous and very long life in which she preserves her super model looks despite getting slashed and shot. A magical and miraculous healing occurs. She loses her regeneration powers and then regains them.

In each the burden of endless longevity / immortality is touched upon. They do not dwell overmuch on the boredom aspect rather the action and power angle. The omnipotence may appeal to the burdened and downtrodden. It may titillate the sociopath and the narcissist.

For dramatic impact pivotal points in global {human} history are referenced. An allied them is to be found in the “Assassins Creed” franchise though in this case reincarnation is invoked and a DNA bloodline is the bearer and propagator of ongoing conflicts.

It has been suggested to me that the so-called Toltecs were incarnated around pivotal times and played a role behind the scenes in the evolution of human and planetary history. Given that the technique of erasing personal history is part and parcel of the training, it is not surprising that little historical refence can be found. In the Old Guard Andy tries to avoid publicity. However in this day and age and thanks to internet monitoring and various intelligence services it is impossible to leave no trace. The times have changed.

In the Toltec tradition there is such a thing as a nagal being. The word Nagual in Spanish American is similar. The word Naga in the Indian tradition does not differ in root. In the hagiography of Buddhism Siddartha is protected by king cobra, a naga-raja, from the rain. These nagas live in the place or world of the nagas, naga-loka. Wisdom can be elicited from nagas and naga-loka. Serpents are the dreaming symbol for wisdom.

This suggests via speculation and extrapolation that a nagal being was a contemporary and perhaps companion of Shakyamuni Buddha.

——————-

“There is unanimous agreement that Nāgārjuna (ca 150–250 CE) is the most important Buddhist philosopher after the historical Buddha himself and one of the most original and influential thinkers in the history of Indian philosophy. His philosophy of the “middle way” (madhyamaka) based around the central notion of “emptiness” (śūnyatā) influenced the Indian philosophical debate for a thousand years after his death; with the spread of Buddhism to Tibet, China, Japan and other Asian countries the writings of Nāgārjuna became an indispensable point of reference for their own philosophical inquiries. A specific reading of Nāgārjuna’s thought, called Prāsaṅgika-Madhyamaka, became the official philosophical position of Tibetan Buddhism which regards it as the pinnacle of philosophical sophistication up to the present day.”

Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy

Nāgārjuna (नागार्जुन). – Name of an ancient Buddhist teacher of the rank of बोधिसत्त्व (bodhisattva).

Wisdom Library

The name also appears in the wider Hindu sources predating Shakyamuni Buddha

———————–

Typically a three pronged nagal is said to distribute knowledge widely. Like a stone thrown into a pond.  If Nāgārjuna is a wider term for a nagal teacher in the Indian sub-continent then this suggests that the core Toltec and Vedic / Buddhist teachings are similarly sourced and may differ only in method of expression and verbalisation. The term is a generic and not a specific and personal name.

I personally have not found any huge glaring clashes between these philosophies. There is a marked difference in emphasis and the cultural refence points and metaphors employed.

The entertainment mentioned above is not completely inconsistent with a hierarchy of spiritual “masters” on overwatch of humanity. However in order to make it dramatically appealing they must have meaty bits and interpersonal relations such as love with hints of corporeal hanky-panky.

Too abstract and the film would not sell. The immortals have to be beautiful people if good and have ugliness if bad. One is not allowed a minger of an immortal. They must be L’Oréal advert fresh out of the shower from time to time.

Having a “hot” teacher can badly detract from learning.

It is not difficult to see that the course of human history did indeed pivot around relatively small and local acts. The execution of Jesus ended up being a game changer. The invention of antibiotics added number density to humanity.  An assassination was used as a pretext for the first world war. If there is tension a simple fuse is all that is needed to ignite. A miscalculation in a Bay of Pigs might cause a nuclear winter. The simple protection of a Buddha from the rain enabled the propagation of the teachings for mind.

Humanity is prone to flying off the handle in rage and “self-righteous” indignation. Humanity has a “cob” on and is very prone to fits of angry pique which kill hundreds of thousands.

In the absence of overwatch might the history of humanity have been even more bloody and brutal?

We are heading into unknown territories with AI and Drone-robotics. What are the two biggest markets? War and sex. Thus humanity will expend effort into developing these for profit applications. Since the theoretical abolition of slavery humanity seeks a replacement.  I read yesterday that progress toward in vitro spermatogenesis is advancing, if the same continues for human eggs it may be possible to make a human-like foetus. A synthetic human is unlikely to have an indwelling Soul. This biological dabbling and getting a blind boner for technology represents a Pandora’s box the lid of which humanity will find difficult to resist. What is unleashed now and later in this century may cease to be readily controllable. The temptation of cash and the arrogant appeal of God-like potential may lead humanity down a very dark path indeed. It may regret…

How might Andy and the Highlander come to the rescue?

London Welsh – Rugby Dream 06-07-2025 – Russia – France

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is last night’s dream. We watched a recording of the Wales V Japan rugby match on the TV in which there was little inventiveness on the part of Wales.

The dream starts in a daylit room. I am sorting out some washing and come upon a red old-style rugby jersey made of thick linen and with a white button up collar. It has long sleeves and has been worn before. It is mine.  I pick it up, take off my t-shirt and try it on. It fits if a little tight. There is a strong feeling of Southern hemisphere.

I am next walking with John Williams to a clubhouse facility in the middle of several grass sports pitches some of which have rugby goal posts. I am dressed in normal clothes. We enter the clubhouse and it is the London Welsh rugby club dressing rooms / clubhouse. I am welcomed back by several of the team who recognise me. There are some new faces and everyone is getting changed into the red rugby jerseys with white old-style shorts. There are several teams from elite to social. The club physios and doctors are there. Siân and her team of young female physios are there. She is dressed in t-shirt and shorts with her blonde hair tied back in a pony tail. She has a strong Welsh accent. She is checking that people are fit to play. She comes over and has a cursory examination of my back and hips and clears me.

I am then ushered over to a table by the club “secretariat”. They want me to sign a membership form and pay my club dues. They say that a portion of the fee goes to the WRFU to help the national team. I say that I do not know which address to put in as I am between places. “Do I put in my French address for now?” “Yes”.

We do not yet know if we will be playing because there has been some snow overnight and the pitch might be too hard. We make our way out to the pitch. As I will be playing hooker from the bench I will need to know the lineout calls. One of the props says that he will whisper the actual as opposed to coded call for me so that I know where to throw in. I ask him to “scrum down” with me so that I can test how my hips hold up under pressure. We do this and I am able to hold his push and twist his body and lift him. He says that I will be fine, I cannot keep my Ventolin in my pocket. So I walk to the halfway touch flag and deposit it there, next to the pole.

The referee has declared the pitch match ready and we prepare for kick off. Even though I am old I know that in terms of cardiovascular and strength I will be able to keep up.

The dream ends.

I am reminded of my Dancing with Ganesh dream on waking.

——————–

Around 40 years ago I played in a social rugby team at London Welsh which was filled with young professionals. The pack has several Ph.D. and lawyers.

————————-

I wake up. It is around 5 AM. I feel no pain. Slowly the pain in my spine builds in. I drift off back to sleep.

It is ago, a few hundred years, and I am in Saint Petersburg at some kind of posh social event. I am among a delegation that is working between France and Russia, to try to find common ground. It is delicate work and the French are being difficult and uncooperative. The Russians are waiting for the French to decide and commit to something. A senior Russian court figure says to me that I need to make it clear that to the French it is they the French who are holding things up. I speak both languages. This segment pertains to “pony-tail” man. I am he again.

The dream ends