Category: Synthesis

Only Two people In the World and Some Speculations

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

I have read a lot of so called New Age books and hardcore science. I did my Ph.D. at the same gaffe Michael Faraday did his research which has the highest per capita Nobel laureate density associated with it in the world. I did my degrees at a world top ten university {UCL} and subsequently taught at this year’s #2 {Imperial} according to QS university rankings. That is a pretty snazzy background.

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I have ~60 legit publications in the physical sciences literature.

And yet here I am getting some weird and wonderful dreams. I’ll speculate that if taken as a whole there is no modern accepted psychology / psychiatry which could account for them.

I’ll speculate that these dreams may be unique in scope and in content. Who else dreams of witches and high technology patents?

I have absorbed what might be called four schools of thought, modern science, Toltec Teachings, The Ageless Wisdom {Alice Bailey Djwhal Khul blue books} and elements of Hinayana, Mahayana, Zen and Vajrayana Buddhism.  

I approached this learning with an inquiring open mind, several kilos of salt for pinching but an ideation to practice and not scoff.

Only two people in this world have been exposed to the scope of my dreaming, the wife and me. One of the first things we ask of a morning is, “did you have any dreams?” There have been occasions when our dreams are fairly synchronised.  She has predicted things happening for me. Her dreams pertain more to time, whereas mine are “out there”.

In one school of thought I belong to the south, the place of dreams with a predilection for dreaming. My secondary predilection is philosophy.

I have always had a strong ability to construct abstract and complex visualisations, which I can animate in my consciousness.

I’ll speculate that I am kind of a melting pot, a cauldron if you like, in which these thought streams are synthesised into a whole.

I like using rhetorical questions, what is wrong with that?

Well people often mistake my questions for soul searching angst. I already have the “answers” {to my satisfaction}. The questions are meant to stimulate thought.

I am allergic to adamant assertion; it is a short cut away from thought and is behind much of the polarisation and cleavage in the world today. People die because others assert.

To expect others to be interested in an opus of dreams is likely to result in disappointment. The “not invented here syndrome” dominates the human psyche. And besides people need to make a living somehow.

Life for us is very simple and we live isolated on our compound with little contact to/with the outside world. This is in stark contrast when juxtaposed with the content of my passive nocturnal dreams….

Everyone is busy, caught up in their hectic FOMO dramas.  Only two people in the world are likely to be interested in this exercise of dream study … …

Royal Institution – Anál nathrach – Silver Bullet – Dream 27-01-2024

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This dream is top end strange and perhaps re-presents an occult attack carried out on me.

The dream starts with a knowing that in group situations there is always one who lets the evil thoughts and emotions in. That person is usually of the number three and so it was in the past. The weak point for temptation is always the West and the people of that predilection.

It continues to a visual image of a building which I know to be The Royal Institution of Great Britain. Someone has gotten past security and is rampaging around the building. I quickly run about the building to see if it has the old back passages which only someone who lives there would know. It does not. I am with the pool of back office workers and secretaries. We close the door and lock it.

We hear a noise outside. A young blonde American woman who works for the CIA goes to look through the peep hole. The attacker looks back and she tries to stab it with a long pin. It does not work. She runs past me.

The door bursts open and the only partially human attacker comes in. I struggle with it physically. It is much stronger then me. It throws me around and rips a large radiator off the wall. I grab a small climbing ice pick off a desk. It presses me against the wall with the radiator and is starting to crush me. I start to hit its left hand with the ice pick stabbing it and drawing blood. The attacker does not seem to worry. I can see its right hand too and re-adjust to attack it. I can feel my ribs getting crushed.

I start to chant in deep voice getting ever deeper and stronger.

Anál nathrach,

orth’ bháis’s bethad,

do chél dénmha

 It is the charm of making.

I chant it over and over. Suddenly the radiator drops and the attacker is transformed into a shiny silver decorative candlestick. It is sparkly and there are dangly decorations. One of the ladies goes over to touch it. I tell her not to because it is evil which is still cooling down.

I am completely aware that I am dreaming and am somewhat surprised that I am chanting the charm of making in a dream.

I am now outside in a fenced park. I can see a large lithe man with silver grey hair and I know that the second wave of the attack is coming. He heads straight for me and we fight. Again, he is way stronger than me. I try to chant.

Anál nathrach,

orth’ bháis’s bethad,

do chél dénmha

This has little or no effect because I am nearly exhausted. I am defeated and he and his colleagues start to round everybody up. We are led off towards a small lake in which there is a pontoon. They have with them a young seer with brown curly hair who gives running commentary on the skills and origin of each of the people. Meanwhile the attacker is wiring himself up to the electricity grid. As I near the lake I start to chant again. Water is my element.

Anál nathrach,

orth’ bháis’s bethad,

do chél dénmha

A hand in the water lifts out what looks to be a paper scroll. I take it and it unfurls into a rectangular shield with a handle. I know this shield will protect me from the bolts which the attacker may send.

We find ourselves on the pontoon. He starts to transform into a boat in which to carry us off.

One of his crew shouts out that the sniper is coming.

I can see that this is true and that he is a nagal’s courier already known to me.

The scout says that they need to take the sniper seriously because he as large .6 calibre armour piercing rounds.  The main attacker regains humanoid shape.

He takes me with him in the general direction of the sniper. The sniper is loading his single shot rifle and taking pot shots. As we get very close. He goes to load the rifle and with his other hand lobs me a bullet which I catch.

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Whilst the attacker is focused on the sniper. I throw the bullet like a dart at him and it embeds in his chest. There is a sort of ripple in his fabric of the world. The bullet is stuck like a dart.

I wake up and take a visit to the bathroom. It is 7:17 AM.

I try to revisit the dream.

I am back to the scene where I throw the bullet. I can see that it has penetrated a little further into the attacker.

I can now see the face of the “real” human being causing the attack. The image is very clear and I can summon that to conscience now at will. The image changes to the back of his head. Where the cervical spine meets the cranium there is a fair sized yellow “X”. I know that all I have to do it project some energy here and his head will explode in real life. I send a little energy just to establish the connection but refrain from attack-defence. I will store the information should I need it later.

The scene changes and I am in the garden by the greenhouse.  I look towards plug hole corner the Northeast and I can see a brilliant rainbow which is reflected in the waters of the pond.

I wake up and think, “bloody hell that was a whopper”.

As a protective measure I visualize a full manifestation of Vajrapani in wrathful mode and “place” copies of him at various strategic points around the garden. I also reconstruct the reflective dome of indigo-blue around the house. Any magic will be reflected back at the source amplified.

Magic Fayre Dream 8-1-23

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The memory of this was prompted by one of the checkout ladies at the supermarket who has large witchy tattoos. There are quite a few women with tattoos like that around here. It makes me feel at home…

This is an extensive dreaming sequence whereby I woke up and then went back to sleep, re-entering the same dream.

I arrive at a middle size country mansion constructed in red bricks. There is a temporary car park roped of at a distance to the mansion and signage saying “Magic Fayre” pointing along the drive towards the mansion. The gardens are immaculate and it is a fine summer’s day. Many of the people are dressed for an English country garden party. I walk along to the entrance and wait in line.

When it is my turn to enter the gentleman on the door gives me a red plastic circular token with the number 16 printed upon it in raised yellow lettering. He says that I am getting a kind of VIP pass. All the other guests have pale yellow tokens with numbers starting at 200.

I go in and there are various exhibition style booths. At the first one there are two young women. Their stand is called “Modern Witchcraft”. On the stand there are examples of handicrafts and immaculate calligraphy. The two women are dressed in very smart stylish outfits without a trace of goth. They tell me that they are white witches and want to bring witchcraft into the 21st century. They are tired of the skanky image of witches and want to smarten it up. They say that the lost of art of spell calligraphy needs to be reborn and brought up to an impeccable level. I comment that I fully support what they are doing, the image needs to change. They beam with joy.

On the next stand there is a woman with long dark hair selling exotic candles of all shapes and sizes. Several of them are alight and the aroma is spiced and not unpleasant and manufactured like that of Yankee candles. It seems the woman has manged to make candles smell like exotic incense. I take the thumb and forefinger of my right hand and extinguish one candle between them. I am left with a light blue drop of oily liquid on my thumb. The drop is perfectly shaped. The woman claps her hands and says, “bravo”. She asks me to manually pleasure her which I do quietly beneath her table. She is wearing brown bikini bottoms which I push to one side.

I decide that I need to go back outside. There are a few people sat on the large stones which demarcate the drive. I find an empty one and take out an herbal marijuana joint which I spark up. A1, a man, arrives and looks surprised to see me doing this. We chat briefly. The organiser of the event wearing a trilby and a beige suit comes over. He says that smoking weed is not allowed. I apologise. He says that I owe him a “sitting” in the basement if I can hack it. I agree to try.

I go back int the building and arrive at some demonstration area. There is a large head in a glass tank. The head is very much alive and the fluid which surrounds it is pulsating. He asks me to sit down on a chair at a distance from him and we tune into each other a little. Then he sends various articles towards me using telekinesis. The idea is that I must catch the objects with my hands. I manage to catch about 80% of the things he sends at me. The ones that I drop are all made of plastic. He notes this and thinks it funny that I cannot feel the plastic, whereas glass, metal and wood are easy for me to “pick up”. He is really happy and a sparkle appears in his one eye which is facing me.

He says to me in a booming telepathic voice, “you need to work with groups.”

I move on to the stairs and down into the basement. There is a well lit library there with light wooden shelving and several librarians there. I know this library to be a library of white magic. I ask one of the librarians where to go for my “sitting”. She motions me to an armoured door in the corner of the room, in which there is a small glass window. She asks me to please close the door behind me until the “sitting” is over.

I go over to the door open it and walk through. I get my bearings and I am in a whitewashed medieval style cellar. I go back to the door close it and sit cross legged in the middle of the room. It very dark and quiet. The only light comes from the small window in the door. I start to meditate and close my eyes sinking in the darkness. Slowly a glowing rod of light appears. It is about 30cm long and less than 1cm wide. It is slowly alternating from white through pink to red and through pink back to white. I know that I cannot pick it up with my hands. So, I elevate it and bring it within my Anja centre. I absorb it and understand that I now have to radiate it out into the room. I do this for a fair time radiating a pinkish light into the otherwise dark cellar. I am aware that the librarian can see the pulsing glow. When I leave the room, the librarians are smiling I have fulfilled my task.

I come to

Next, I am outside the mansion again it is later towards the end of the afternoon. I am outside with A2 also a man.  We are standing near a rucksack on the floor. He says that he is changing his ways and is going to participate in a practise called Yeshe*-lam. I ask his if him if he knows what Yeshe means. He admits that he does not. I keep quiet. For some reason he is trying to impress me.

We go into the Magic Fayre. Several of the stands are closing up. At the back there is a table with three men in business suits going over some paperwork. I go over to ask them what they are doing. One of them says that they work for Samsung who have sponsored the event. I see that he has some accounts and joke that he should hide them from A2 who is an accountant. He plays as if to hide them. He asks me what I thought of the event. I say that it was well run, meticulously organised and very good. He comments that he is pleased that their investment has worked.

He says that he is going to work with lama Yeshe. I ask him how long he has been working with Tibetan Buddhism and the Bardo teachings. He comments intermittently. He takes one third of the year sabbatical to do this. He cannot work full on for Samsung and do Bardo at the same time, they do not mix well.

We go back outside to the ruck sack. Out of the corner of my eye I see two giant figures, one a mediaeval king {with crown} and the other some kind of knight they are over five metres tall and the same height as a big water tower. The king is fighting with the knight and is trying to kill him with a sword. They fall over knocking the tower to the ground. I motion to A2 to come with me into a stone built folly. Which he does.

Soon a number of larger figures come into the property. They start to fire arrows at us but I can deflect them with my mind.

I come to.

Next, I am outside my flat in North London. I know it is a bit of a mess. I open the door and on the floor in the corner of the room is sat an Indian “guru” in saffron robes and with long flowing grey hair. He smiles. I apologise for the mess. He says that it is of no import.

A2 turns up and says that he is hungry. I say that I have no food but that there are plenty of restaurants, nearby. I reel off the types of restaurant and we decide to go to a fish restaurant nearby. I say to the “guru” we will be back soon.

After we have eaten, I leave A2 at the restaurant and head back to the flat. When I open the door there is another “Indian” man sat on the floor meditating he is dressed in a 1950’s style suite with a black Muslim cap. He feels serene.

I come to.

I do drift back off but I can’t recall accurately what happens next.

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*Yeshe (Tibetan: ཡེ་ཤེས་, Wylie: ye-shes, ZYPY: Yêxê) is a Tibetan term meaning wisdom and is analogous to jnana in Sanskrit.

Dreaming and Intuition are they linked?

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In terms of MBTI, I have a clear INFJ preference. I have very high scores for N intuition and J judging. This means that I am a bit of time freak, I like to be early and get things done well before any deadline. It has come as a shock to some that I am very introverted.

My dominant function is introverted intuition, which means that few get to see what goes on internally. Occasionally people are very surprised at what pops out. I have some skill in envisioning, so called big picture thinking, but pictures are generally 2d so that description is limited.

Intuition comes in various degrees from knowing the next number in a number sequence puzzle to having a profound insight into the psyche or soul of others based on little “evidence”. The first case of intuition here is an extension of logic. The second is an unexplainable knowing.

 Intuition can be re-written inner-tuition.

Where a kind of learning happens as if by magic. If I cannot solve a problem, I leave it to my background processors intentionally and then a few days later a solution or a new way of thinking comes into mind, ta-da!

Dreaming, passive dreaming at night, does not come from outside. So, we could call this internal process, intuition, particularly if insights arrive in a dream. Dreaming is a subset of intuition.  

I personally trust my intuition and dreams more than what is said in overt and verbal conversation or even text. If there is divergence, I trust my inner-tuition over what is presented or spun. Being introverted I don’t let on.

In esoteric psychology some dreams can be termed “dramatizations of the soul” in which the soul is trying to assist the mundane being. You can’t get more inner inner-tuition than that.

Statistically INFJ is the least common personality type. If you know one hundred people then only one of them is INFJ. {Of course, INFJs cluster in certain professions}. Many of us report problems fitting in with society and the square peg in a round hole is a depiction of the INFJ. There are lots of different visualisations of INFJ because INFJs often like metaphor and allegory.

Because INFJs are interested in things like psychology, then it follows that many may have an interest in passive nocturnal and active lucid dreaming.

Some dreams are internal dialogue and daily angst carried into sleep. I’ll suggest that at certain depths dreaming is a form of inner-tuition or intuition. There are similarities to heightened meditative states and conscious nocturnal dreaming.

The trick is learning how to remember your dreams and transfer them into the so-called waking “reality” of life quotidian.

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Circumstantial Evidence For Reincarnations In Dreaming

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I’ll speculate that the modern short attention span is inconsistent with developing depth of insight and profound, for want of a better word, spiritual, connectivity. If it can’t be done in a TikTok it is of no interest. Further if there is no app for it, it can’t be good. There is a tendency to conclude without investigation and pooh-pooh without research. The provenance of “they” as a font of wisdom is rarely questioned. Fear of missing out, FOMO, keeps people stuck in the hamster wheel.

Even when I was young, I tended to look into things in depth. Despite being a rugby player, I was also an avid book/library user. I think it accurate to say that I seek greater depth of knowledge than the majority of humanity. In order to form a complete pattern which my intuition is happy with I need quite a large amount of data and imagery.

In the post previous the putative reincarnation chronology is roughly Egyptian, Egyptian, Hindu Brahmin, Mexican South American(?), Persian, Indian Buddhist, Japanese Buddhist, Thai Buddhist, Christian Priest/crusader and my Sicilian life. There is a possibility of a more recent female birth. There are reasons why this may not be the case. One could call these dreams circumstantial evidence for reincarnation in dreaming.

There is a feeling that the Mexican life might be more recent. I had a bit of a thing about Teotihuacán which places it before my Japanese life. The reincarnations stretch back thousands of years. One could speculate that I am an old “soul”.

Were I still employed at a world top ten university as a science academic I would not talk in public about this kind of thing and it might even be contrary to the internet etiquette guidelines of my employment contract. It might raise the odd eyebrow or two. Luckily, I no longer need to get research grant income so my, within peer group reputation, is of no import. It is possible people would not want to be associated in public with a “whacko” like me. I could be a LinkedIn leper. Physical scientists are sceptical and conservative.

In addition to these dreams, I have had multiple déjà vu experiences concerning my Sicilian and Christian “lives”. There have been visions of myself as a Buddhist monk with om mane padme hum tattooed on my forearm in Sanskrit and a traumatic end to the crusader life, in full smell-o-vision. It has been indicated to me that this is my last incarnation here. That would make me a non-returner, anāgāmin.

I’ll speculate that no main stream psychologist or psychiatrist would be able to give a satisfactory explanation from within the common view of the world for these dreams in total (~250), especially when taken together or in themed groups.

On the basis of my personal experience reincarnation with partial life recall is the best-fit explanation but by no means intellectually conclusive. It is not proven.

A point of interest for me that while I have been revisiting these dreams, I have had something of a dream drought.

“Remembering one’s former abodes” (pubbe-nivāsanussati), causal memory, recalling one’s own past lives is one of the higher “powers” in the Pali Buddhist canon. It suggests that evolution is required for this to happen. It is not a common or garden thing. This is consistent with continuous evolution. The sense is for all but two of my “lives” I have been involved with the “priest hood”.

The new religion is perhaps science. So, one could argue that I was a priest at a science and technology university, in this incarnation too. I have lived like a “hermit” for over decade and meditated daily for two. I am perhaps more yogi than geek.

In order for anyone else to appreciate things effort would be required. In our hectic modern world taking the time to read through the dreams of a retired person, will be very low priority. It is perhaps only of interest to the wife and me.

It has been, for me, quite fun to re-examine my dream archive.

It is 29˚ C in the shade here so it is too hot to do any gardening…

15 Dreams With a Reincarnation Theme

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These dated dreams are presented in chronological order.

Three Golden Crosses – Science Museum – Caretaker of Knowledge Dream 18-06-2009

The dream starts with a vison of three golden and radiant crosses spaced equally on a golden-sun-like orb with a golden radiance.

I am then walking along beside a river dressed in my Yukata with some loose change in my hand. I come upon a family, and they are wondering about falling in the river. They have some shoes and I say that the ones with the heels are the best. Don’t worry about falling in the river you are very far from any waterfalls and the water is cool and refreshing.

The woman wonders if I am holding something back as all the gossip says I say that no I am not.

Then I am in the Science Museum. I am caretaker. What better place for me than to be the caretaker of knowledge. I go into a room and there are some beautiful postcards of Buddha.

I hear deep melodious voices:

“We knew when you first came into being all those millions of years ago that this is how you would always live.  A life full of compassion and that you would always be a little mis-understood. A beautiful thing and that you would always do this for evermore.”

Dream ends.

Bakula – Buddhist Arhat – Dream 12-08-2011

I am in a roof top garden, there is some sort of party going on with loads of people sat around and at tables. There are people of many ethnicities from all over the world. They are dressed in brightly coloured “hippie” style clothes. As the party carries on, they draw a curtain around one part of the garden and gather around some Buddhist icons. A south American man there starts to do some chanting. I butt in with Tibetan deep voice chanting. They do not recognise me and are annoyed at my interruption. I point out to them that it is my garden which they are in. I strike up again and do White Tara. I need a drink of water before I can find my voice. After several cups I strike the right note and do some White Tara. Everyone joins in and after a while the party resumes happily.

The wife and I are in one segment of the garden when Anna L and a friend turn up. They have been travelling in India. She has remained pale but her friend has gone brown. She talks of her travels and I say that we will in time need to have a proper talk. She has something for me. At which point she shoots straight up into the air and then lands. She has brought many “ethnic”, clothes and trinkets.

Next I am on a mountain train. I arrive at a terminus in a hillside town way up in the mountains. It is very much like Nepal / Tibet / Bhutan. I get out of the train and wander along the high street. Turning instinctively to the right I go up a hill to “my” palace. Again, there is a vibrant garden with peacocks. It is “my” garden.

Later I make another journey on the mountain train and end up at another terminus. Here the streets are filled with market traders selling saffron and magenta clothes, together with gold trinkets and jewellery. I have time to explore. Everyone is trying to barter with the merchants trying to buy goods in various currencies. The merchants will not trade unless the currency matches the passport of the person trying to buy.

I am not interested in bartering and look on watching. Somehow, I am “in tune” with the locals. I wander back to the main street and notice various pins sticking in my back. Somehow, I am now in an off the shoulder robe. One by one I pull the pins out of my back. They are made of a very fine gold pin topped with a tiny ivory chess figure. There is a castle, a knight, a king and a queen. I have also been adorned with much golden jewellery.

I go into an emporium as I am pulling out these pins and sit down. I ask the shopkeeper about what has been happening. She says that they have done this to me so as to make me unattractive to the locals so that they won’t fall for me and want to have sex with me.

Anna L comes into the shop and sits next to me. We start talking about my palace. An old Indian man with very short hair suddenly starts to talk in a very proper English accent. He says that she holds for me a key and that we must find it. It relates back to 1773. He says that I must get back to Bakula.

We leave the shops and seek out the train station. “All trains go through Bakula”, says the station announcer. We look at the map and it is configured like this.

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Glowing Skeleton – Third Universe Dream 17-11-2012

Against a dark backdrop I see an image of myself as I physically am. I am superimposed upon a glowing skeleton which has bright pink, fluorescent blood vessels. It is living. The two images pulse back and forth in precedence of view multiple times. I hear the Vedic, “I am become death the destroyer of worlds.”

In the dream I wonder if this is a harbinger of my own death. It is not it of symbolic value.

Next, I am at a British Forces Veterans club. As we go in the door by poppies and balsa wood crosses there are a selection of old photos. One of them catches my eye, it has a striking resemblance to my father {He was lieutenant acting captain REME during the Malayan insurgency.} I ask if I may take the photos to look through. I do this and thumb through them several times. I can no longer see the photos.

In the same club there is a bunch of old women. They start talking about Watchtower magazine and mention numerology. The numerology of 5 & 9. I ask what she means by 9. It is aunty Vi {one of my father’s aunts}. Before she has time to answer I move off. One of the young men comes after me and says that aunty Vi was starting to perk up and to please come back and speak some more about numerology. I say to her that 9 means completion and that 5 is her number as a Westerly Stalker.

She is now standing by me as she was as a young woman with bright orange and pink hair.

I know that this world is an intermediate world between life and death.

I am now flying over a flooded countryside. There are two boys stranded on a car. They swim across to a camper van and scramble up onto it. The flowing water takes them over the edge of a waterfall. I see that they are going to land safely because a little winged fairy / sprite suddenly whizzes in front of them. They are followed over the waterfall by seven beautiful horses who are riding the sky.

I am back at home now and in my bedroom. My attention is drawn through the window to a nest. In the nest is a single crow. Through the mind link it says it has taken up residence for the duration.

Downstairs I bump into my niece. She starts to wrestle with me. She thinks that she has me pinned. I am much stronger than her and slowly break her grip. I pick her up and ask her if she would like my help.

I am then shown three worlds / globes in space. Written upon them in a flowing dripping pink lettering are:

The world of the starving spirits.

The world of the hungry ghosts.

The world of the in between.

I then “know” in the dream that this current universe is the third manifested universe. And that to understand the full nature of bardo and karma I will need to expand my consciousness so that it can stretch backwards to times of previous universal manifestation. This will ultimately be a part of my training….

Dream ends

* See Engine Rebuild -Seer- Past Lives dream later in the collection.

Imhotep Dream 28-6-2013 Leuven

We were staying in a hotel that once used to be a convent in Leuven…

I was there for a job interview with IMEC and got to see an ASML EUV lithography machine.

I am somehow on a river in which there are cars. They are all flowing towards a waterfall. I am somehow stationary. There is a bright red car associated with a woman. It flows over the edge and hits a rock. It is compacted and squashed. I can see it still bright red on the rocks below.

Somehow there is going to be a police investigation into this. I am at a gathering and everyone is wondering where the car disappeared to.

There is a gap in the dreaming.

There is a gathering and we are all sat around in a circle in front of a stage. We are waiting for the arrival of a female shaman / seer. She appears from behind the curtains. I can see her eyes and for some reason she homes in on me and start to look into my eyes. She then continues around the circle in a ceremonial way. I say partially under my breath “mutant”. The people all gasp. I have dared.

She comes back over to me and stares into my eyes. We lock in some kind of contest of wills and she turns into a naked child like figure with exquisite Egyptian features. “Imhotep” I say out loud and pointing at her. “You are a mutant of Imhotep and I have known you before. Why do you seek me again?” She is covered in fine black hair.

There is a gap in the dreaming.

I am somehow on a ferry. It is very large. There are people joining the ferry. One of them, a dutchman, says that he is going to run around the ferry to check its shape. There are four drums and some young people pop up to start playing drums. I start drumming with a chair.

Whilst everyone is looking at me a leather bound book appears. It is to do with my mystery. I know now that I have had Egyptian lives {plural}. The book starts to open and it says “Marchmont” {implicit house}. This is a part of my mystery. Very English and upper class. Everyone smiles.

I am now in a doctor’s surgery. The man there is taking blood via a phial like device in the fold of my elbow. He has taken a sample and having retracted the syringe he is waiting for blood to spurt. It does not.  Whilst he is waiting, he puts two white fabric tags or plasters on my right hand. I have been “scanned” and must always wear these now. I must tell my next of kin and those in my will that I have had this scan. It is somehow related to genetics. He asks me if I have any living relatives. He comments that I am in a bad way and should contact them soon.

Dream ends

*This was before my cancer diagnosis in 2015

From Wikipedia

Imhotep (/ɪmˈhoʊtɛp/;Ancient Egyptian: ỉỉ-m-ḥtp “(the one who) comes in peace”; fl. late 27th century BCE) was an Egyptian chancellor to the Pharaoh Djoser, possible architect of Djoser’s step pyramid, and high priest of the sun god Ra at Heliopolis. Very little is known of Imhotep as a historical figure, but in the 3,000 years following his death, he was gradually glorified and deified.

Traditions from long after Imhotep’s death treated him as a great author of wisdom texts and especially as a physician. No text from his lifetime mentions these capacities and no text mentions his name in the first 1,200 years following his death. Apart from the three short contemporary inscriptions that establish him as chancellor to the Pharaoh, the first text to reference Imhotep dates to the time of Amenhotep III (c. 1391–1353 BCE). It is addressed to the owner of a tomb, and reads:

    The wab-priest may give offerings to your ka. The wab-priests may stretch to you their arms with libations on the soil, as it is done for Imhotep with the remains of the water bowl.

    — Wildung (1977)

It appears that this libation to Imhotep was done regularly, as they are attested on papyri associated with statues of Imhotep until the Late Period (c. 664–332 BCE). Wildung explains the origin of this cult as a slow evolution of intellectuals’ memory of Imhotep, from his death onward. Gardiner finds the cult of Imhotep during the New Kingdom (c. 1550–1077 BCE) sufficiently distinct from the usual offerings made to other commoners that the epithet “demigod” is likely justified to describe his veneration.

The first references to the healing abilities of Imhotep occur from the Thirtieth Dynasty (c. 380–343 BCE) onward, some 2,200 years after his death.

Imhotep is among the few non-royal Egyptians who were deified after their deaths, and until the 21st century, he was one of nearly a dozen non-royals to achieve this status. The center of his cult was in Memphis. The location of his tomb remains unknown, despite efforts to find it. The consensus is that it is hidden somewhere at Saqqara.

Seb. the Witch and the Monk Dream 18-08-21

Here is the first dream, a bit thematically diverse to the second one.

I am on a showground on a large country estate in England. Some kind on agricultural county show has just taken place. A few metres from me is Seb’s mother. {Seb was a tutorial client of mine.} She asks me how things are and welcomes me to their estate.  I say things are fine. Up on the viewing stands Seb appears and says Hi.

Together the three of us walk of to the main house which is magnificent. They both go on inside and I meet Seb’s father who is dressed in a very English country gent manner. “Welcome back into the fold old chap. I say would you be so kind as to park up the mower and the small trailer?

I go back to the field and drive the trailer and then the mower into the internal courtyard of the house.

I ask If I should park them in the usual place.

“Yes, you remember where they used to go, don’t you?”

I drive them round to the barn storage area where I encounter Seb’s sister and older brother.  The sister is in charge and the brother is her side kick. She says Hi and gesticulates into the barn.

I park the vehicles up and approach her.

As I get closer small dark smoky tendrils start to emanate from her and to a lesser extent her brother.

She says “Damn, that only used to happen when I was near that Christian monk from two lifetimes ago. The one who outed me as a witch!”

In the dream I know it was me who was the Christian priest monk she is referring to. She does not yet guess this.

Dream ends.

Prodigal Son – Rastafari Dream 10-01-22

Here is one of my three dreaming segments from last night…

I am sat with others in a circle on small individual chairs. The feeling is like some kind of group discussion / therapy. We are discussing the prodigal son. Fi gets up and says that the parable is all about profligacy and sin. She maintains that the son in question is wasteful and does not respect material things. I say that the prodigal son sees the lack of value amongst the material things after his many incarnations. He develops humility and is no longer drawn to the earthly. Hence, he returns to the father, the source. Nevertheless, normal humanity sees only the materiality and deeply resents the prodigal for wasting that to which they are attached.

A little while later I am walking through the centre and bump into a Rastafarian who is younger than me and has bright shiny eyes. He asks if I am the dude who defended the prodigal son? Yes. He asks if I know the true meaning of Melchizedek. Yes. I explain to him that for quite a while I was drawn to Rastafarian mysticism. He asks me to lend him a cd. I go over to my pile. We are now somehow in Brixton. I explain to him that I used to live here a long while ago. I shuffle through my CDs and find Prodigal Son by Steel Pulse. Jah Rastafari.

I move around the centre and am broadly accepted by everyone there. Words has gotten around about me. I try to leave the centre and follow a winding spiral staircase which goes through various flats. I arrive at a back door. I open it and step outside. Now I am being chased by a young black guy. I stop and say, “hit me if you wish. I meant no harm.” He considers this for a moment and then says, “nah, just don’t do it again.” He walks off.

In the dream I know that this is advising me that although the familiar is tempting going back to old haunts does not really work.

Dream ends.

Canal Boat – Reincarnation – Book Dream 19-4-23

The dream starts on a long canal boat on a canal and moored to canal side. The wife and I are asleep in a bedroom of the canal boat under a large navy blue blanket. We hear the engines start up and get ready to get up. In the distance a young woman shouts that we are getting ready to set off and that we had better get up. She jokes that we might be as old as the more than one hundred year old canal boat. I shout to her that if you consider reincarnations then I am a whole lot older than that.  

A young woman with long black hair, the ends of which are dyed blue, comes into our room. Her hair is swept over her head from one side. She is dressed ethnically in loose harem pants with a tie-die chemise. She has a big shiny earing in her left ear and a nose piercing. She bounces into our room and onto our bed. She asks about the reincarnations and I know that she is bilingual, French English. She is French. I tell her that I “know” of five incarnations stretching back over two thousand years. I say that my book is due to be published in Paris in a few weeks’ time. They are detailed therein.

Her partner, a more masculine looking woman, with short blond hair in blue jeans and a white T-shirt is less convinced. We all move into the wheelhouse. I know that the two young woman are considering if they want me to assist them, a long established lesbian couple, with having a baby. They are unsure if they both want one or just one for the long haired one. Who I know to be a dreamer. The situation is amicable and we have all known each other for a long time. I am something of an older father figure. From the back of the boat, we can see the front of the boat slowly move away from quay side.

There is a young man with unruly black hair shipping the ropes back on board at the front and another man at the back.

They come into the wheelhouse and the more masculine woman tells him about the reincarnations. He grabs hold of my leg and starts to twist it asking me if I truly believe in what I have said. It is a kind of loose torture. I say to him that he may be small, fast, and agile but that I am way bigger than him and a whole lot stronger. I suggest that it would be better for him to let go of my leg. Which he does.

The young woman with the dark hair asks me again and I explain that one of my incarnations was Christian and two were Buddhist. I know that she has had various dreams and that she wants to talk with me about them in due course once the boat is underway.

Dream ends.

Vardyger {Vardøgr} dream 6-6-23.

Having just spent an hour or so fault finding with the satellite LNB receiver, it is back to the world of Vardyger. Strange, picking up microwaves for space and geo-stationary orbit one minute and “the double” the next.

During the night I had some problems getting off to sleep, this is not uncommon in and around the full moon. This one is also celebrated as Vesak in some places.

In the dream I am having a conference with several other “people” we are reviewing what is going on. I express concern that things are slow. The conference is not corporeal.

They tell me not to worry because the incarnation of the vardigers {or vartigers as I “hear” it} is now fully underway. My mind knows that this word means fore-runners or advance party in one sense. And that in a way I am a forerunner, one of the first of my ilk. It is strange in the dream that Asian “men” are using a Scandinavian sounding word. I am the fore or var, at the front and avant garde.

I sense that the implication is of some kind of harbinger and there are others.

It is made clear to me that I must remember the word and write it down on waking. It is very important that I capture the word.

In the dream I know that this is significant and of portent.

——————————–

As soon as I go downstairs and before I greet Bowie the cat, I scribble the word on a post it.

A little later I type vardiger into Google and all that it suggests to me is Vardøger.

Saffron Trousers “Muay Thai” – Reincarnation – Dream 10-07-23

Here is this morning’s dream.

The dream opens at the confluence of two rivers in mountainous terrain. The river beds are strewn with dark grey-black rock. The river levels are low as is the resultant river. It is clear that from time to time and in rainy season torrents flow. Around the rivers are dense rainforest like trees. I am on a “beach” to the side of one of the rivers. There is a sense of antiquity and of “ago”. I know that I am near a village which is on a major trade route into / across the mountains. It has been the scene of major battles.

I look down and can see that I am wearing only some saffron-yellow trousers. They are held up with a drawstring at the waist and the ankles are similarly tied. They are loose fitting. My head is freshly shaved and without hair. My body is Asian and early twenties. It has no body hair. I am of a slight yet muscular build. I have a tattoo of my left forearm which I cannot see. I am with an old man with white hair and wispy beard. He is dressed in cotton trousers and jackets. He is an elder.

I am not of the village but have been assigned to it. There is an upcoming festival and I have been chosen to represent the village. Tribes will be coming down from the mountains for the festivities, which will be extensive over a number of days.

I point at a red rock on the shore. I say to the man that this could be ground up for face paint. {My mind interjects it is iron oxide}. He says yes and notes it. He will send one of the women back for it.

He has in his hand a cane upon which is a small pad. I am now supposed to kick the pad as he moves it. The type of kick is a roundhouse. He encourages me to swing the whole leg and not flex it at the knee. {My mind interjects that this not like a Japanese roundhouse mawashi-geri but more like a Muay Thai kick}. He moves the pad around getting me to kick low and high. He says that I must focus on the thigh kicks as these will deaden the legs of my opponents. He says that this is a key part of Muay Thai. He encourages me to kick low very hard and fast as we move around the beach. This “way” goes a long way back. He then gets me to work on a front stop kick which prevents the opponent from getting close. He says that I should tap into the warriors of old from this part of the mountains. The tribes coming down are savage and ruthless so I will have to be on my guard and at my best.

He says that although I am not of the village as the Buddhist priest, I should know its ways.

I have worked up a sweat. He suggests that I dunk myself in the river. Which I do.

The dream ends as we walk towards the village and I am amazed at how this body feels in comparison to the one in which I am sleeping.

Dream ends

* I note than in my waking dreams of me as a Buddhist priest I had a Sanskrit tattoo of “om mane padme hum” on forearms.

This is perhaps my Thai Buddhist lifetime, one of three putative Buddhist incarnations.

Engine Rebuild – Seer – Past Lives – Dream 9-11-23

This dream was more detailed than I am able to fully recall. Here are the salient points.

The dream opens in my grandparent’s house in Trealaw near Tonypandy. We are all sat around in the bottom kitchen. On the floor is the engine from a VW beetle. It is no longer working. There is mayhem with coming and goings.

The wife and I set off to seek a mechanic to fix the engine and get it back into the car. We arrive at our local {French} mechanics and I explain to them what is wrong with the engine in French. The wife is with me in case I need language back up. I explain where the engine is located. The mechanic says that they will come over in a few days’ time. We thank them and leave.

We scout around looking for parking places on Trealaw road. There are none to be found.

We go back into the house and there is a young, tanned man in cotton trousers, cotton pants. He has no shirt or shoes. He has very long and very dark black hair. He looks to be Asian Indian. He is exotic. He tells me that he has been assigned as my brother and that he finds this unusual and does not like it. I say that this practice is common amongst the North American Indians and that I am there to be his guide. He does not like this. I shout at him a bit and say for him to wait, all will be revealed.

The dog does not like me shouting and goes to bite me. I offer it my clenched right fist which it puts in its mouth and bites down. It then shakes its head from side to side. I pick the dog up with my arm whilst it is shaking it. When the dog is close to my eyes. I look directly at it, eye to eye.  The dog lets go, falls, whimpers, and runs off.

I the gather everyone around and suggest that we try to fix the engine ourselves. The scene changes to a basement garage reminiscent of the hot rod scene “Greased Lightning” in the film “Grease”. I lift the engine up onto a metallic work bench and we start cleaning and assembling engine parts. Here it gets very intricate. I can see exhaust manifolds, engine block, fuel feeds, spark plugs, cooling sub-systems and into the cylinder heads themselves. The engine block is transparent.

We are ready to go and start the engine up. I can see the fuel injection and combustion. There is a leak of petrol and the whole engine block goes up in flames. I smother this with a banket. We make some adjustments and start again. Now the engine is smooth and purring. Someone revs it. He says look that the engine is fit for a king and not a beetle.

An old woman and her helper walk into the room. She walks aided with a stick. She sits at the shiny metallic table. She is partially blind. The engine is stopped so that she can speak. The young Indian man comes over and stands by my side. He says that she is a seer of some power and renown. She has come to tell me about my past lives.

She asks me if I am sceptical. I say I know that I already have information on five of my past lives.

She says good. She tells me that she will tell me of my Mexican-American and Hindu lives. She intimates that the young man was a companion to me in each of these. I say that I already have a name coming through for my Mexican life, thousands of years ago. She says that in time it will be good to see if we concur.

First though she will tell me of my brahmin Hindu {Vedic} life. These are two more priestly lives. She intimates that in time the Hindu life will explain many other things.

Dream ends…I know I must wait.

Kālacakra –Black and White Umbilicus – Tantra – Dream 13-1-24

Before I begin, I swear I had no magic mushrooms or any other hallucinogen before bedtime!

Here is last night’s dreaming sequence.

I am with a woman in some kind of chamber or cave. She is heavily pregnant. I lay her down on a fourfold mandala on the floor. The design is very similar to this Kālacakra or wheel of time mandala. I know that this is of the deepest and most profound tantra. I align the woman North South on the mandala. I know that I will recognise the mandala if I ever see it again. It is imprinted in my consciousness.

A white European baby is born. It is pink-white and is surrounded by a glowing aura. There is no umbilical cord and yet it is called an umbilicus. The baby is pristine clean and radiant. It is naked and male.

Next a shiny obsidian black baby is born also with European features. It has an umbilical chord which I remove by hand. In neither birth are there any amniotic fluids or blood. The black obsidian baby is born wearing a nappy. It is also male. It is very shiny.

I know that the white baby does not need to be reborn. I know that the black umbilicus is tied to the wheel of birth because it has an umbilical cord.

One is good and the other is pure undistilled evil.

In the dream I know that I am a creature of the light and no longer bound to the wheel.

I know that at first evil is always strongly attracted to good, this attraction fades. I know that good is not attracted to evil it is simply not that interested, not bothered or enticed.

The scene changes and I am walking in a park with the black and white babies in a side by side push chair. They make an odd couple. One radiant auric white and the other deepest obsidian.

I come too and then drift back off.

I see an ethereal white figure. It has a quasi-human form yet it has wing like structures. It is floating suspended in the air. On its back between the shoulder blades is a tiny insignia like this.

–

– 

 In the dream I know that the figure is an angel and that it is an angel of light and not of dark.

The scene changes and I am in a tropical forest underneath truly giant leaves. The sounds of rainforest are all around. There are drops of water falling from the leaf and landing on my head. I can see a tiny transparent circle appear in the leaf. There is a tiny window of transparency in the deepest green through which the droplets trickle.

I walk out from under the leaf and climb a little incline. From there I can see a most exquisite bird of paradise which had been “pissing” on me. Though the piss was spring water and not urine. The bird has exquisite orange and pink plumage on its head. The body and wing feathers are of a light emerald green and the wings are tipped with turquoise blue. The bird is pleased to see me and I it. We both stand there for a long time enjoying each other’s company and the fecund sound of the tropical rainforest.

The scene changes and I can see a man sat at a desk. On the desk is some parchment like paper, an ink well and a quill for writing. There is a small pile of books to one side. The man is clean shaven with fairly long grey hair parted in the middle.  I know that he wears this in a ponytail or bob when out socialising.  He has a kind European face and I know that his hair was once jet black. His eyes have a sparkle. He is wearing a white collarless shirt with the top button done up. The sleeves are blouson. This is informal, at home, attire. I know that the desk is mine and the man was me in my most recent life before this one. I am feeling emotional as I write this. I know his face now.

I wake up and think wow, I had better write that all down…    

 Japan and Dual Passport Dream 14-02-2024

My body was feeling a bit tired with “new” muscles after fitting the fence. This dream is out of the blue. A while back I had thought that one of my lives was as a Japanese Buddhist monk. That was until I had a dream pointing to Northern Thailand. This dream hints.

The dream starts with me in Tokyo. I am in a building which is a department store and I am exploring. On arrival at each floor, I am greeted in Japanese by a smartly dressed young woman in uniform and I respond also in Japanese. I remember just how tidy; how spick and span Japan can be.

The elevator does not reach the top floor so I climb a set of stairs. There is a well-equipped computer centre and it is filled with young Japanese gamers. There is much activity. I decide it is not for me.

I leave the building and walk the streets back to my hotel. It is a medium sized classical hotel. I have an appointment for dinner later that day. I enjoy my walk looking at all the kanji on the side of the buildings.

I arrived for dinner in a lightweight grey suit with black leather shoes. There are a few younger Japanese men, smartly dressed. There is an older man who is in charge, sempai. I sit next to him because we are friends. We discuss how the Korean mafia is taking over the production of advanced AI chips. He says that I am welcome to come there to work with them.

I say that is easy because I have a Japanese passport. I take my “red” UK EU passport and my blue five year biometric Japanese passport out and put them on the table to show him. I know in the dream that I have dual identity and dual nationality. In a sense I am part Japanese. I have been here before and lived here.

There is much conviviality and drinking. The younger men tease me about staying at a boring old-fashioned hotel.

Dream ends.

On waking I am reminded of my prior investigation into esoteric Japanese Vajrayana Buddhism. I am planning to start into the Kālacakra Tantra today but I will need some of ritual before I start.

Woman’s Body – Laceration – Painkiller Dream 16-02-2024

Here is this morning’s dream. It is my first in which I am in a woman’s body.

I am in a hospital which feels 19th century and the nurse’s uniforms are very old-fashioned. The word crinoline. I look down at my left foot. There is a laceration from the inside of my ankle over the top of the foot all the way around to the outside of my ankle. It will need stitching. The foot is not my current one, it looks feminine and small.

The nurse approaches with a needle and thread. She says that it is going to hurt.

I ask if I can get some painkillers. Yes.

I get up and walk towards the spiral staircase of our current house. As I descend the stairs there is an unfamiliar sensation in my chest. I figure it out to be breasts bobbing about as I go down the staircase. The sensation is strange to me.

I go into our current pantry and find a packet of co-codamol, paracetamol and codeine. I take one tablet out which I swallow with a glass of water. I put the packet in the pocket of my old fashioned nightdress. I go back to the staircase and ascend into the hospital ward.

I put the tablets into my bedside locker and get back into bed.

The nurse asks if I want some opium. I say no thank you because the tablet has started to work.

She approaches with some pliers and pulls back the toenail of my left big toe and then removes it.

She then starts stitching up the wound on my ankle. I can see quite a large needle and am aware that the thread has a wide gauge compared to modern synthetic ones. I look down to see her handiwork.

She applies a dressing and then bandages my entire foot up. She will check it in a few days.

I am lying in an old-school metal framed bed with a metal spring net for a base. The mattress is like the horsehair ones we had at boarding school. There is an odour of carbolic.

The nurse comes back some time later. She removes the dressing. The toe has healed and there is new nail on it. The stiches have vanished and there is a light pink scar where the wound once was.

The dream ends.

On waking I think that this dream has elements in which I can actually work with on myself. The possibility of a female incarnation in the 19th century is there but that is out of line with my current thinking.

13th Dalai Lama Dream 01-03-2024 

Here is the second dream.

I am in a village hall here in Brittanny. There is an event going on organised by some of the British expat community. Sat at the back in monk’s robes is a man roughly my age with a small retinue. He is Tibetan. They are in monochrome. They are chatting amongst themselves. A woman turns to them and says to the man that he talks too much.

I turn to the wife and say that she has just told the Dalai Lama that he talks too much. He hears me and we lock eyes. He is grinning profusely and we both find the situation hysterically funny. He turns to his retinue and says, “The Dalai Lama talks too much!” They all giggle slightly because he is known for not saying that much at all.

In the dream I know that this is a previous incarnation of the current Dalai Lama. Because he looks different. I recognise him.

{On searching Google, it is the 13th Dalai Lama as an older man.}

The sense of fun at being told off we share is uplifting.

The scene changes and I am now deeper in the hall with the wife. I am making an herbal tea with citrus rind, bright yellow berries and ginger in a large Pyrex bowl. I pour this through a sieve into two cups. We go outside to let it cool.

I say that we have to go back in because the meeting is starting. We find that someone has tidied up our mugs. We sit down on a couple of chairs and the meeting kicks off in English. The expats are mobilising for some cause or other. They tell us we have every right to be there.

The scene changes and I am in a mountain {possibly Tibet} monastery. I am with a young boy aged around ten. We are in a bedroom and he is standing on the bed. He is of Tibetan origin with jet black hair. We are touching foreheads and playing a gentle game of headbutts with each other. His English is impeccable and I tell him so. He seems very familiar to me. We are having a great deal of fun.

Someone comes to the door and escorts us to a room with large step like seats. The boy instructs me to go some way up the steps and I am joined by the wife.

Some men come in and put a carved wooden chair on the floor. The boy says that the Dalai Lama likes to have people higher than he because it reminds him to stay humble. The Dalai Lama comes in and sits on the chair. The boy stands next to him. It is clear that they know each other well. In the dream I know that this is yet another prior incarnation of the Dalai Lama.

The scene changes and I am outside by the shore of a mountainous lake. I am sat with a young white American. A dharma bum. In the background the Dalai Lama is organising a spectacle a ritual with white flags and huge prayer wheels. There is a horse riding display. Implicit in the dream is that the Dalai Lama will see me soon.

I am talking with the American about the nature of reality. I say to him that I know that reincarnation is real because I have recollection of my prior lives in dreams.

As the dream is fading, I get a full colour image of the current the 14th Dalai Lama and a sensation of joining Ajna centres.

Dream ends

Tibetan Buddhist Search Committee Dream 29-04-23.

This dream was so out of the blue, unexpected.

The dream starts in the UK in England. I am hosting a personal development course in a country house with a large events room. We are sat in plenary in U-shape around the side of the high ceiling dance hall. It is ornate but now carpeted. A smartly dressed tall woman with a feint American accent and long blonde hair is speaking on a slightly raised wooden dais. She is using a long wooden pointer to point at a presentation she is making, which is running on a white screen.

It is time for a break before the final closing remarks and conference wrap up.

Everyone gets up for refreshments which are served in the antechamber. I walk through this into the back of the house which turns into a smaller building. This is where I have been living in the UK countryside. There is a wooden shed and outbuildings. I am checking on the content of these as we will be moving soon. Someone has started moving the items of furniture. I say to a woman there that she ought to have known better not to disturb my system. There is a symmetry to how I have fitted things in the shed. They only go in one way and must come out the reverse way. The passage to the shed is narrow and there is only one way to do this. I am slightly angry and the people are sheepish.

I return to the conference and it is over. Everyone has left, they are all people from my past in one sense. I have missed my chance to do the summing up and to thank the speaker. They have mostly left in embarrassment. The sense of embarrassment is strong and clear.

The speaker is now playing a video recording of semi-rural Tibet. The camera is running through the streets and I can see a large white and brown temple up on the hill. There are prayer flags and modern Tibetan people together with some more rustic “peasants”. I look at the woman and she has changed into an embroidered gold and red jacket over her novice nun robes. He hair is now short. I ask her about the video she says that it is of her people and that she has been working for them in making my acquaintance.

At this point a small party of people enter the room. They are all dressed in ceremonial Tibetan robes. These are very opulent. The embroidery is yellow, red, magenta, and saffron. It is ornate and slightly garish. There is a scent of incense accompanying them They are headed by a monk/abbot who is old and his right hand man who has jet black hair.  In the entourage there is a western woman with a round yellow-red embroidered cap over her bald head. I recognise her as someone whom I have met in this lifetime. I go up to her and say, “I know you”. She winks, smiles and says that yes, I do and that she had been sent to observe me. Amongst them is a tall athletic Tibetan man who moves with grace, poise and style. I point my finger into his chest. I say to him, “you are warrior and fighter.” He laughs and says yes. We can spar later using traditional Tibetan weapons to see what I remember.

Now into the back of the room furniture is being carried in by hand. I know it to be of a ceremonial nature and his has been carried from afar. My eyes are drawn to a very ornate chest with meticulous cabinet work. It is made in the shape of a Welsh dresser with an upper cupboard. The wood is highly polished, perhaps walnut. The detail of the closures is in gold.  It is a treasure and contained within it are relics. Although not visible to the naked eye, inscribed into the wood in “magic” lettering are some words in Tibetan script. The calligraphy is excellent and the downward strokes of the letters are longer and more artistic than is customary. They have been inscribed with flourish. There is a sense that the intense black calligraphy has been “burned” into the wood over the centuries and that only certain people can see it.

The carpet on the floor of the hall has been rolled back to reveal a parquet dance floor of some considerable sheen. Amongst the entourage I can hear gossiping. “It cannot be him; he is too coarse thickset and muscular.”

I hear this and whip off my shirt to reveal my muscular bare chest. I say that I will cooperate with whatever it is they must do. Take a look if you must. I am now wearing saffron yellow trousers, training pants, that are “elasticated” at the ankles. {See Muay Thai dream}I start to do a forward splits on the floor to warm up. I say that given I am nearly sixty I am surprised that being that old I can still do that.

One of the woman in the entourage says to me that I am much older than that both in this lifetime and stretching way back. I am nearly 73 she says. I do the mental calculation that I must have been “born” in the early 1950s. She says, “we tried to wake you five years ago”. You have been “asleep” and we have been waiting.

I briefly wake up and then drift off.

I am at an oriental Temple scene with ponds and in an immaculate garden. At first pass I think Chinese and then know Japanese. There are people there with round black ceremonial hats and flowing Japanese robes. I am poured into the pond as very large and bright, shiny goldfish. I swim in the Temple ponds and in the dream, I know that my second Buddhist life was Japanese. These ponds are my home, where I swim.

I the return to the hall in the previous part of the dream and the warrior comes into the room carrying some odd looking Tibetan martial arts weapons. Which I recognise. Some of the monks are now seated and are reciting mantra whilst thumbing through their prayer beads.

I have a very strong visual image of two yellow-hat Tibetan monks in full colour sat on a rock up in the mountains playing their long Tibetan alpine horns. That image and the sound persists even now. I can “hear” the horns inside my mind. They are precursors to a ritual, setting the scene.

 I get up and greet the cat. I take my medication and put the coffee on. I sit down and start typing…

The Not Being Believed Theme

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

“It was just a dream!”

Many do not pay attention to their dreams and discount them. Many others pay a little more attention. It is easy to write them off with the perhaps adamant assertion above. I have heard many anecdotes where people have been very unsettled by dreams. I’ll speculate that the more hard-core scientist you think you are the more likely it is that you will discount the import of dreams. They are fluffy febrile stuff for tree huggers, hippies, conspiracy theorists, whackos and new agers. Only space cadets are into dreams.

You can work out for yourself if I am a hippie space-cadet or not. Perhaps I am in a superposition state.

I am doing a little experiment here in the blog in which I group dreams in a time ordered sequence according to theme. It seems to me one dream is easily ignored but a time ordered sequence appears to have a tad more substance. It is a feeling. I challenge you to read one of these themed collections, see what you reckon. It might twist your melon man.

I am not all that interested in “winning” arguments, nor do I like to argue the toss incessantly. I do not need to convince or win people over. I will not try to cajole or coerce belief. In fact, when I have noted that somebody badly wants to “win” an argument I have let them do so on occasion, because it seems so important to them. I capitulate and say that they are “right”. Nobody has ever asked me what I mean by that. People tend to take the short-cut easy way out.

In quite a few of my dreams I am “told” that I will not be believed and that I will not be listened to.

Viewed from one angle not believing me and not listening to me, has karmic implications. One could argue that it is my karma to be treated like this. One could make a counter case that by acting thus “they” are making a massive karmic error.

I have a rule of thumb, “99% of people only think about themselves 99% of the time”. Obvs it is the 99% rule. This is a concise re-wording of the self-diagnosed omniscient / auto proctology rule.

If my dreams tell me I will not be believed there are two options, try to be heard or not bother. I have given up on banging my head against a brick wall.

The other big recurring theme in the dreams is someone else’s mess, often ginormous.

There is a catch 22. Because of the karmic mess created by others, if I try to tell them about said karmic mess, I will not be believed, and the karmic mess will get deeper. If I try to help, I will make it worse. It is an SEP, someone else’s problem.

Let me be specific if anyone claims to know my mind and to be speaking on my behalf, they are a liar and a charlatan. I have never appointed a spokesperson, a port-parole or any kind of PR agent to speak on my behalf. If you believe anyone claiming to know me and where I am coming from / what I am up to, then you are gullible and buying snake oil.

I have just made a statement and according to my dreams it will not be believed or listened to either.

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Serpents of Wisdom – Caduceus Dreams

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I have grouped these together because the Caduceus has two serpents. It is the symbol of Hermes the herald of the Gods who can move swiftly between worlds.

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Ghurkha – Caduceus Dream 13-03-2011

I am somehow going around town spraying foam on people I am walking with, and this is for their protection.

I go into a shop. It is old and wooden there. A Ghurkha dressed in a kilt is there, he is talking with the shopkeeper.  I tell him that my dad used to work with the 7th army, specifically he was assigned to the Seventh Ghurkha Regiment.

I note the golden medal he is wearing. On it are a golden Caduceus and an image of a swastika. {the correct non-Nazi way round}. He had not seen the swastika before and is a little upset. I explain that I have a golden caduceus too. It is not with me today as it is being examined by another of his kind who is also looking at my Father’s will.

In real life my physical plane father did indeed work with Ghurkhas in the Malayan Emergency and as I have just found out 7th Gurkha Rifles was there at the same time.  He was given a Kukri by the Ghurkhas as a gift of honour. I remember it well. He was Second Lieutenant acting Captain in REME during his national service.  Because they believed in fate, he said that they had absolutely no fear and did crazy stuff full of courage. I did not know of the number of Ghurkha regiments until 10 minutes ago.

Golden Core – Caduceus Dream 19-05-2013

I am flying in the sky above all the people. I come across a wooden “telegraph” pole like the one we have in the garden. It is mossy and unnoticed. I am the golden core to the telegraph pole. The direct link between sky {heaven} and earth. Though no one appreciates this.

I am then in my flat in an apartment building which is shared by many. There is a sense that this is a learning community. It is not very tidy. From time to time I come upon a drawer which has been rifled through. Over by one of the windows are two very small birds of a peachy-blue colouration. They are not like any real birds. I go over to them and start to mimic their calls very accurately. They hop along until they are very close to me. I speak with them in bird language. Soon they are mimicking me and speaking English. They hop onto my head and shoulders. I let them walk all over my face. I know in the dream that these two birds love me a great deal.

I continue to move around my flat and find that another drawer has been rifled. I take the Swiss army penknife {red with a white cross} and put it in my pocket. I go to where my golden Caduceus is and put it in my pocket. They have not found its hiding place. I am now wearing combat trousers. I notice water dripping from the ceiling and go to investigate the jewellers which is above. As I get to the landing the police are arriving. Someone has broken into the jewellers and stolen many things. The police comment to me that they are amateurs.

I slip a pair of nunchaku into my left trouser pocket and set off into the street. As I approach a building site a lorry containing long strips of wood, sheds it load narrowly missing me. I shout at the builder and pick up a stick not sure whether to give it back to him or attack. I wave it at him. He does something similar. I have my hand over left trouser pocket as I approach him. It is good natured and fun, I go on my way.

Meanwhile I hear a rumour spread by my ex-wife that I have lost my Caduceus in the robbery. The story that my Caduceus made by designer XXXX propagates. It has been lost when they broke into the jewellery shop. I touch the Caduceus in my pocket and am very happy to let the rumour propagate for now.

I am now in central London near the Buckingham Palace roundabout. There are many taxis and a wedding procession with a white Rolls Royce. I am on the central island. I can see that a taxi is going to collide with the Rolls Royce. It does so and they both roll towards me. I know I am going to be hit but not hurt. As they roll into me, I bounce a little. The Rolls Royce is crumpled. The taxi driver apologises and asks if I would like a lift. I say, “no thanks”.

I continue my way onto a high-rise construction site. There are many stainless steel girders of a narrow diameter. I climb with ease and get across a gap onto the far part of the building site. There is no obvious way back. A Scotsman appears and I ask him if he will help me. He cannot because he will get into trouble for me being on site. He changes his mind. He can help me if I pretend to be casual labour. The bucket of a crane is there, and it is royal blue in colour. We both get in and return to the ground.

I head back to the learning community.

There is now a scientific apparatus there and some experiments are going on. They cannot see but I am something akin to a left bionic arm. This arm is flesh coloured, very high functioning and its hand is ultra-precision.

In the dream I go back to the telegraph pole and the birds, I check again the Caduceus which is safe in my pocket.  It is now also a part of me. The Caduceus is my golden core.

 The Dream ends.

*Gold is the dreaming symbol for Nagal or Spirit

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Dual Serpents of Wisdom – Patent – Attack – Laboratory Dream 17-9-23

I have awoken this morning and my body feels as if I have been doing a great amount of judo groundwork exercises. All my muscles feel heavily used and there was cramping in my thigh. The wife says that I sometimes thrash about when dreaming. I did not exercise yesterday.


This dream happened between 3:30 and 6:45AM.

The dream opens with view of a stone house. The stones are hewn out of a dark sandstone and the house is symmetrical. There are two large bay windows on each side comprising two floors. With each window above the other. The stonework leading to the roof is of a high calibre. The house has fallen into disrepair somewhat. It has a bright light navy blue square door under an elaborate stone worked beam. The door is vivid. The house stands alone on a hill and it is raining, there are passing squalls. It is the only thing on the dreamscape.

Inside the house is an enclosed spiral staircase made out of some metal. There is a handrail to complete the enclosure. The spiral staircase if of a vivid blue colour. Using the Faraday right hand curling rule, the direction of the staircase is up. There is a strong sense that this is a one direction staircase. The internal dimensions of the house are vast much greater than the outside might suggest.

I am stood arms outstretched in front of the staircase. On the floor are two large snakes. They have a pattern of diamond shapes on their backs. Their base colour can be seen to be a dark racing green car paint. There are small shiny blue diamonds {2d ◊} of colour overlaid to give a green/blue diamond pattern on the back. They climb twisting up around my body and open their mouths. I can see their huge fangs. They attach themselves to each bicep by biting into my flesh. With the snakes wrapped, entwined, around by body in a spiral I am transposed onto the blue metal spiral staircase in the centre of the house. On the floor of the house there are now numerous tiny snakes. Each are entwined as a pair.

In the dream I know that the snakes around my body and those on the floor are the serpents of wisdom. I feel no pain from the snake bites. It seems natural. Though I can feel where they were on my biceps as I type.

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The scene changes to the ground floor of a modern airport terminal. The escalators lead up to departures. There is a coffee shop / concession. Serving at the concession is PW. Neither of us are surprised at this. He is the barista. I order a coffee and we get chatting. I say that I have recently had a patent granted and that I am flying to Denver. There I will be met by some people from the Ministry of Defence and taken to an unknown location. I say that I do not understand what all the hoo-ha is about. It would be a lot simpler just to converse. He notes that he does not have my new ‘phone number. I reach down into my bag and pull out a small, rubberised for industrial use, laptop and a smart ‘phone. I boot the ‘phone up and just as I am getting ready to give him my number, I notice several men in light grey suits coming towards me. In the dream I know they mean me ill. I say, “see you later” and run up the escalators through passport control and into departures. The men cannot follow and I can see them frustrated making a ‘phone call.

I look down into my bag and it is empty aside from the devices. I hope that there will be a boutique in the hotel where I might buy some clothes.

I walk through a small group of young American students. They have been here in Europe for a physics event. They receive a ‘phone call and then move to try to detain me. They encircle me.

I hold out both my arms palms outstretched and project qi/prana at them. This comes out in a near visible stream and freezes them to the spot.

The students think that this is neat but cannot move.

I explain to them that whatever powers I have then can never be used offensively only for defence and benign/good purpose. They cannot be used for personal gain. They will be able to move when they drop the malicious intent.

I move off into the bar. It is well stocked and I can tell that the barman is good at his job. I sit at the bar and I order a small glass of ice cold white wine. Which he serves me. It is humid so the glass gets a coating of mist quickly.  I am sat reading a newspaper.

Out of the corner of my eye I see two very large men in light grey suits. The suits are ill fitting and the men are twins. They have shaved heads and thick necks. They could be night club doormen. They make their way over to me and position themselves to my left and right behind my back. They make a move to grab me. I emanate a force field which they are unbale to penetrate and which freezes them to the spot. They persist in trying and the force field flings them away. They fall to the floor. They get up and try again with the same result.

I get up and walk out of the airport terminal.

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The scene changes to some kind of English country research campus. I am in a bed with the wife in the manor house. The room is like a hotel room with a four poster bed and has been done in good taste.

In the dream I dream within a dream. In that second dream I wander around the house and can see a group of English men discussing how they are going to renovate the house and turn it into laboratory space. I will be forbidden to enter the house and the laboratory. I can see the dining room being kitted out as a laboratory. Outside the manor house I can see yellow JCB machines levelling the earth.

I wake up in the dream within a dream. I go to the window and the ground has been levelled. There are numerous JCB vehicles parked up. I go to the staircase in the house and the group of men are there talking about the renovation. One of them winks at me. Hew knows that I have seen them already in the dream. I can sense that they are very antagonistic towards me and without any grounds for that antagonism.

I explore that landing leading to the dining room. Inside the room has been kitted out into a high specification lab space with complex synthetic chemistry glassware rigs. I am mildly surprised.

Down on the ground floor the men are taking to a female engineer who is installing the security system and swipe card access. They stress that under no circumstance should I be allowed to enter the facility. She looks across at me. In the dream we both think that the English men are being bizarre, petty, and foolish. There is a sense of paranoia even. She is unimpressed.

The dream ends and I think phew…that was weird and intense.

Bigfoot – Yeti – Serpents of Wisdom Dream 24-9-23.

Here is this morning’s dream…

The dream starts inside a building with whitewashed stone walls. My understanding is that it is in Cornwall. In the room are several male scientists known to me. They are of an age when I last met them ~17 years ago. They are wearing dark suits. They are inordinately proud of a large hairy animal which is sat amongst them. It looks like a Bigfoot or a Yeti. I am observing them in a non-corporeal manner, watching the goings on.

Next, I am walking along the side of a hill by the edge of the sea. On the lower path I can see the Bigfoot-Yeti thing walking along. It is a bit like Chewbacca. One can see that the creature is a man in a hairy suit. There is a visible join where the top half of the suit meets the waist. It is obviously fake and made up, a figment. I find it funny that the men were so proud of something so obviously manufactured.

Next, I am with an unseen male companion and we are exploring further up the hill. We walk through a hole in a dry stone wall, a gate without door, up over the grass towards the fern and gorse line. As I reach the line, I can see a very large snake over two metres long and thicker than my thigh in parts. It is clearly not of the Cornish countryside. I have seen this snake before it has the same diamond pattern on its racing green back as the ones in a recent dream. My companion is afraid. I can now see him. He is a young man with slightly curly-wavy light brown hair. I say to him that this is not a “real” snake it is a serpent of wisdom. There is no need to be afraid. It helps one see what is real and what is fake. This seems to calm him.

I suggest that we leave the snake undisturbed to go about its business and go back down the hill.

As we approach the gate the path is blocked by a “twin” of the snake we have just seen. They always come in pairs I say.  With respect I walk up to the snake and simply step carefully over it. My companion follows suit. The snake raises its head and looks at us, then slithers off peacefully.

In the grass now we can see a small grass snake, typical of the English countryside. A small white terrier comes along the path, sees the snake and starts to bark at it. The terrier has not seen the serpent of wisdom.

My companion and I look at each other and smile.

The dream ends.

Kālacakra -Black and White Umbilicus – Tantra – Dream 13-1-24

~ quantumdreamer ~ 1 Comment

Before I begin, I swear I had no magic mushrooms or any other hallucinogen before bedtime!

Here is last night’s dreaming sequence.

I am with a woman in some kind of chamber or cave. She is heavily pregnant. I lay her down on a fourfold mandala on the floor. The design is very similar to this Kālacakra or wheel of time mandala. I know that this is of the deepest and most profound tantra. I align the woman North South on the mandala. I know that I will recognise the mandala if I ever see it again. It is imprinted in my consciousness.

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A white European baby is born. It is pink-white and is surrounded by a glowing aura. There is no umbilical cord and yet it is called an umbilicus. The baby is pristine clean and radiant. It is naked and male.

Next a shiny obsidian black baby is born also with European features. It has an umbilical cord which I remove by hand. In neither birth are there any amniotic fluids or blood. The black obsidian baby is born wearing a nappy. It is also male. It is very shiny.

I know that the white baby does not need to be reborn. I know that the black umbilicus is tied to the wheel of rebirth because it has an umbilical cord.

One is good and the other is pure undistilled evil.

In the dream I know that I am a creature of the light and no longer bound to the wheel of rebirth.

I know that at first evil is always strongly attracted to good, this attraction fades. I know that good is not attracted to evil it is simply not that interested, not bothered or enticed.

The scene changes and I am walking in a park with the black and white babies in a side by side push chair. They make an odd couple. One radiant auric white and the other deepest obsidian.

I come too and then drift back off.

I see an ethereal white figure. It has a quasi-human form yet it has wing like structures. It is floating suspended in the air. On its back between the shoulder blades is a tiny insignia like this.

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 In the dream I know that the figure is an angel and that it is an angel of light and not of dark.

The scene changes and I am in a tropical forest underneath truly giant leaves. The sounds of rainforest are all around. There are drops of water falling from the leaf and landing on my head. I can see a tiny transparent circle appear in the leaf. There is a tiny window of transparency in the deepest green through which the droplets trickle.

I walk out from under the leaf and climb a little incline. From there I can see a most exquisite bird of paradise which had been “pissing” on me. Though the piss was spring water and not urine. The bird has exquisite orange and pink plumage on its head. The body and wing feathers are of a light emerald green and the wings are tipped with turquoise blue. The bird is pleased to see me and I it. We both stand there for a long time enjoying each other’s company and the fecund sound of the tropical rainforest.

The scene changes and I can see a man sat at a desk. On the desk is some parchment like paper, an ink well and a quill for writing. There is a small pile of books to one side. The man is clean shaven with fairly long grey hair parted in the middle.  I know that he wears this in a ponytail or bob when out socialising.  He has a kind European face and I know that his hair was once jet black. His eyes have a sparkle. He is wearing a white collarless shirt with the top button done up. The sleeves are blouson. This is informal, at home, attire. I know that the desk is mine and the man was me in my most recent life before this one. I am feeling emotional as I write this. I know his/my face now.

I wake up and think wow, I had better write that all down…     …

Tibetan Monk – Soil – Dragon Lore Dream 31-3-23

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Last night we had winds gusting to 100kmh as a storm front passed over from the west. The volets were rattling in the wind and this dream finished before I got up to visit the facilities at 6:27 AM.

The dream is initially set in a school. The school is in a large old British manor house. I am sat at the back of a classroom with white wooden panelled walls. The room is well lit and there are young teenagers sat facing the front at their desks. A lesson is underway and a grey haired man is front of class giving the lesson to the teenagers. It is some kind of a retreat / spiritual centre. I am there in an observational role. The teenagers are all engaged with the lesson and the teacher is doing a good job.

Sat next to me on my right at my table is a Tibetan Buddhist monk. He is a little younger than me and has very short cut jet black hair. The blackness is very jet. He is sun tanned and serious. He is concentrating on the lesson. He does not have any headgear. Next to him is a small rucksack which is blue-grey in colour and stands out against the colour of his robes.

The lesson draws to a close and the pupils start to leave.

He taps me on the shoulder and asks me to please wait as he has something for me. He puts his rucksack on the table in front of us. He gets out a smallish clear plastic bag and a tie for it. He lays it on the table. Then gingerly he gets out a bigger thicker plastic bag containing dry dusty soil. He handles it with care.

He asks me to hold the small plastic bag open. Which I do. He then unties a ribbon which is holding the other bag closed. He lifts the bag and pours a couple of teacups full of sand/soil into the smaller bag which I am holding. In doing so he spills a few grains of soil. He sweeps these up into his hand and adds them to my bag with utmost care. He closes the big bag with the ribbon and puts the bag tie on my bag.

He says that the bag contains Tibetan soil from a special place and that he has given it to me for my keeping. He says that this is my piece of Tibet and it is for me to look after it henceforth. I am by way of a custodian. He takes out a small cloth bag and gestures for me to put the plastic bag into it. Once I have done this, he seals the cloth bag with a ribbon and hands it back to me. I thank him and he thanks me. He utters something which I know to be a blessing in Tibetan, he bows his head. Together we exit the classroom. When we reach the corridor, we go our separate ways. I am holding the bag of soil in both hands.  

Much later I am in another place. I am attending a Mind, Body, and Spirit event in a large hall. There are “hippie” stalls everywhere selling “wellness” merchandise, courses on various things, different societies, trinkets and with live demonstrations of various arts. At the back of the hall, I notice some tables selling books on spiritual and esoteric themes. I go over to peruse.

On one stall there are two younger people sat with a Tibetan Buddhist monk. He too is fairly young about 30. I can see various Buddhist texts including the Dhammapada and various Tibetan works translated into English. On top of one of the Buddhist books is “The Mists of Dragon Lore”. It looks incongruous on the pile. But I know that it has been specifically placed there as a kind of “bait” intended to attract my attention. I know in the dream that the Tibetans have been and are looking / searching for me. They wish to discuss amongst other things how Toltec cosmology compares with their own. I go over to the stall and gesture to the book on Dragon Lore. This piques the attention of the monk who comes over to see what is going on.

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Dream ends