Category: Tibetan Themed

Anaesthetic Recovery Room – Tibetan Temple Dream 21-11-2025

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Here is Friday’s dream had around 14:00 – 15:00 hours CET time as I transferred out of operating theatre after hip replacement surgery and into the post operative recovery room.

I had the distinct sensation of being in a Tibetan style temple at a monastery or other religious centre. The inside of the building consists of a main chamber and a smaller “sanctum” or “sanctuary” at the back. The main building has mats on either side of and aisle leading up towards the sanctum. The floor level in the sanctum is higher than the main building. The ceiling is lower. The “wall” going down from the higher main building ceiling to that of the sanctum is very white. It is decorated in whirling relief design top and bottom. The designs form a row at the top and bottom of the partition. There is a sense that they are or have been golden. The craftsmanship is exquisite. For a Tibetan themed place, it is surprisingly light and airy.

Sat in rows either side of the aisle in the main building are monks in largely magenta robes. There are around twenty of them all special invitees. They are roughly equally spaced either side of the aisle.

In the sanctum there are two raised boxes / benches aligned perpendicular to the monk’s rows. These boxes are higher and decorated in fancy cloths or hangings. Looking into the sanctum are three monastics sat to the left and three people to the right. The one on the right furthest from the main room is me. Everyone else is wearing Buddhist ceremonial hats, yellow. I alone have no headgear. I understand the others to be high lamas. I am dressed in magenta robes.

At the back of the sanctum facing out into the main building is an even higher box / throne upon which is sat a chunky Tibetan man in more yellow / gold robes with the yellow ceremonial Gelug hat. He is younger than me. His robes are brocade and he is Karmapa. I am closest to Karmapa.

There is incense in the air and chanting. I know it to be of Tibetan flavour because of “benza” as in “om benza pani hung”  the chanting also has heart sutra, guru Rinpoche and medicine buddha to go with the Vajrapani. The “Benza” is very distinctive. The medicine buddha is for me.

As I come to, I expect to find myself in the temple but am actually in a high specification operating theatre recovery room with lots of kit and women younger than me in blue scrubs. I am disoriented and genuinely surprised. It takes a while to adjust.

The experience fades into normal post operative routines.

Snow Tiger – Bhutan – Vajrayana – Dream 16-11-2025

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Here is last night’s dream again out of the blue.

The dream starts in a front garden of a UK house on a standard modern housing estate. It is snowing and I am standing with my Snow Tiger. He is wearing armour like Iorek Byrnison the polar bear in “The Golden Compass” the tiger and I are one and the same. He is a White Tiger. I say that I am the Snow Tiger and I have been sent by Hermes. We are enjoying the silence of the night as the snow falls.

The scene changes and I can see the ex-wife with Manoj and Chris sat chatting around a table in a brightly lit modern house. They are oblivious and do not understand the situation in any way. They are being silly. I go into the room and they carry on regardless. The ex-wife belittles me verbally. In a single movement I grab her by the shoulders and throw her off her chair and away from the table. This stuns them all into silence. She understands that I could have completely broken her and them all. There is no malice on my part.

The scene changes and I am lying in bed. The ex-wife tries to sneak into bed with me and I push her rather forcefully out. She goes to tell my {dead} mother and father what I have done. They say in an attempt to manipulate me that I should not push them away. If I leave them I can not comeback. I am not touched by their threat. I say that I am the Snow Tiger and that my domain, my range is in Bhutan. In the mountains. That is where I live / am. They need to understand the difference between the Snow Tiger and how they think I am. I stand tall on my hind legs and then rest back to four. I too have some form of armour on.

The scene changes and I am in some grand building which is dimly lit. It has the feel of a temple or Dzong. We are in a fairly vast atrium. The colours are dark red, magenta and there are “tapestries” adorning the walls. There is incense and there are people in robes. On one wall there is a vast tapestry which has dark thangka colours and in it a young Russel Crowe sat centrally with a long flowing cape or blanket, velvet. Behind him the scene is crowded with many figures some meditating. Towards a tree is a Tiger on back legs sharpening claws. It is normal coloured. I move towards tapestry and become the Tiger to the tree. The moment I become the Tiger the thangka starts to animate. I drop down to all fours and the become a man again. I am wearing monastic robes.

I walk in the scene through some wide “castle” gates along an unpaved road to the gates of an impressive monastery. The gates are several times taller than me and hewn out of a very dark wood. They smell distinctly of ages. The doors have iron rings to open. I open the doors and step inside. There are two men there one wearing a vaguely triangular skin fur hat with an animal skin coat and another more expensively dressed. They have been exposed to the sun and weather. They are military. The more expensive one says that they want to check if I am true. I go to offer my hand and the rougher one breaks his staff into some kind of two headed martial arts weapon. The other one has some kind of flail attached to a chain / string. I know this to be deep tantra Vajrayana. They start to chase me.

Out of my pocket I pull a small decorated golden orb slightly smaller than my fist. I hold it up and out of it comes a stream of light azure blue spheres which head off in the direction of my assailants. The spheres swarm them without harming. The spheres fly around them. I call them back and they “plunk” back into the golden orb. The two assailants are satisfied. I understand that the test was “ago”. I have passed.

We are now in some unspecified European country. We are searching for a missing woman. We have her address in a city. But finding a parking spot anywhere near is a nightmare. We park some distance off and head off on foot. I see her leaving her apartment with a white near transparent headscarf on. I catch her up and holding her arm lightly tell her she has no need to be afraid. She has been in hiding. We go inside a light building and I say that she can relax. She takes off her headscarf and I can see that she is in fact a young man. He has adopted this disguise so as to hide himself and keep safe.  I ask if that feels better. It does.

The scene changes to some kind of school / dharma centre. There are a number of children playing there and they are under supervision. There is a teaching hierarchy and embedded method. I arrive with a couple of people and go through to look at the day book which records what happens. It is clear that I am there to teach more than just the children. I sit in the “staff room” and add a few elements to the book, specifically my dream about the Snow Tiger. A woman teases me that I will need to use shorthand and not full text. The centre is up in the mountains and has a great view over the valley below. I open up the blinds some more to look out. They are all wondering what it is that I will do.

I am joined by a tall woman with long blonde hair. She has a faint American accent and is heavily pregnant. I ask her how long she has got left. Not long. I say that she could have it on the 30th of August and have the same birthday as me. That way the kid will always be a bank holiday baby. She asks what it is that I am interested in. I say that I have an idea around Naropa and that I am well placed to speak on Naropa. In my orb are some things related. For some reason I have a distinct sense of familiarity with the woman. The young man from before will be joining us as some kind of understudy to me.

The dream ends and I think, “wow, that was a whopper!”

Behind Closed Doors – Nile Perch – Brockwell Park Dream Snippets 29-10-2025

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Here are last night’s dream snippets some of them are at 90 mph…

The first part of the sequence begins in London. There are various meetings going on after hours and behind closed doors in which I am somehow the subject / object of the meeting. I am somehow seen as the “problem”. There is one among male UK academics roughly of my generation. I had acquaintance of these. There is one involving people who could be seen as the generation before me and a current university VC. Of these I had passing acquaintance of one female and longer of another male, they are near end of life. The VC is only a bit older than me. There is one meeting which is part virtual with people in the USA. I have never personally met the protagonists. This has a political / intelligence flavour. There is one meeting which is distinctly Tibetan and not London based. The scenes flash by at “90 mph”. In the dream I want to say that they have done nothing which is strictly speaking illegal nor overly dodgy in the view of current normal practices and behaviour. Therefore from my point of view there is nothing to discuss, nor do they have anything which needs attention. They do not need to do anything at all.

The scene now changes to Africa. We are at a camp site near an inland lake or reservoir. We are packing up to catch the plane home. In my pocket I have a small fishing lure, a spinner, a spinning spoon around a “pole” with a tri-pronged hook. It has a small purple feather. Before we leave I would like to try to catch a “bream” or Nile perch. The man I am with draws off some line from a rod reel combination. The line is very thick and strong. I need to tie the lure on with a leader. I try time and again to attach a leader to the line. Each time I do so and give a good tug the leader comes away from the main line. I think, “clearly I am not supposed to do this”. I give up my efforts and help load the safari Land Rovers to leave.

The scene changes to Brockwell Park in Brixton a place where I frequented a lot. It has a lot of stored memories and previously emotive things for me. It was very much a part of my former London life. I am with the wife and some kind of assistant / facilitator. His job is to look after me and my wants. I show him the ponds and explain that the local schools do biology lessons therefrom. I then show him one of the large old style Brixton converted “mansions”. I say that I want to explore to see if there is any draw. To see if it reminds me of my old flat. We break in through the ground floor back door and head out of the front door. The hallway is spacious and there is no damage we easily unlock the doors. I want to head up hill to show him where I used to live. As we go uphill I see a huge building project. A whole terrace has been demolished for a park side new build. It does not look good. Further up the hill another terrace has been removed by the diggers. They have yet to uproot the very old very large trees. They will need to dig deep to make good foundations. I cannot find the building in which my old flat was. I nip into one of the new build shells and hide from the builders to take a piss in a tiny pink WC. I finish and as I leave one of the builders shouts “oi”. I say that I used to live here and was bursting for a leak. He waves me on.

As I come to I note there is no point searching for the past because it no longer exists. I note that as we were non binary about France or England the future may lie elsewhere. I also note that the reason we love this house is the garden and nature, which I may rekindle after my operation(s). I am not seeing clearly.

The dreaming sequence ends…

Buddhist Child – US Report – French Doctor – Cittaviveka Dream Sequence 18-09-2025

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Here is last night’s dream sequence. I went to bed with a fairly decent head cold.

The dream starts viewing the outside of a Buddhist monastery in the bright morning sunlight. It is in the mountains. The walls of the monastery are a dark pastel puce colour. The finish on the wall is fairly rustic. There is an earthenware tiled roof with curved “oriental” beams protruding. It is Tibetan in style though I sense the word Mongol too. Stood there in the sunlight is a small Sino-Tibetan male child of around ten years age. He has mildly slanty oriental eyes and jet black hair. His eyes are dark. He is wearing monastic maroon robes and a winter “yak?” fur coat. His cheeks are ruddy from the cold. His face is neural of expression though I can sense a little mischief. We “know” each other. Well.

He is somehow ar-chay and sook-ray or sack-ray. The mind assembles the letters Aceh and sacré from the phonetics. Though the words, the sounds, are not English.

Either way I know him to be somehow holy and important. He is to be given to me for protection and education. In some way I am to assimilate him. I see him wearing a “boxy” hat which I understand to be like a crown. It is deep maroon. {On searching the internet the form is the same shape as a Tibetan ceremonial crown.} He is important and somehow also now a part of me.

The scene changes and I see a report. It is an A4 report bound with a cream cardboard cover. The cardboard has a slight sheen to it. To the left the report is bound with a navy-blue almost black spiral plastic binder. It is a little under a centimetre thick. Into the front of the report is cut a “window” which allows the title of the report to be viewed though the cover. I can see a two winged eagle above the subject line of the report. The eagle is in bright colour and I know that this is an official US government document. {On searching the logo is very similar to the official seal of the United States.} I know this to be some kind of intelligence or security briefing. The subject matter is me. There are at least half a dozen of these reports to be shared for discussion purposes. They are being shared with the British.

 The scene changes and I am in a high specification posh doctor surgery in France. I am talking with a tall blonde doctor who is in grey medical scrubs. Her hair is permed and curly and she speaks English with a faint French accent. She is examining me. She asks me if I can still emit energy from my hands and I say that from time to time, yes I can. She asks me if I will wash her hands for her. We go to a sink in the corner of the room which is a  bit cluttered. I clear the stuff away. She takes off her examination gloves. Using my elbow I turn on the elbow-tap. I place a very fluffy expensive white towel on the edge of the sink. I proceed to wash her hands with meticulous care, finger by finger. Which she seems to enjoy. We do this in silence. When I have finished I pat her hands dry. We both know that I am offering her a blessing of the highest order.

 We go over to her desk and she asks me to demonstrate palm to palm transfer of energy. Which I do. She then says that I must understand that the people around where I live in France will not understand me. They will have no notion of a person like me, implicit Rinpoche, is like nor what that means. I say that I already know this and have not in any way judged them. She thanks me and I her.

The scene now changes and I am in a large red brick house which has the feel of a large English village vicarage. I am a guest. The woman of the house is younger than me and the family are well to do. She is a member of the Sangha and has agreed to put me and the wife up. We are near Cittaviveka monastery in Midhurst.

I wake up early and go into the village. I need to get some electronic equipment to help follow a clue I have seen on the internet. I get some cable and some RF connectors to cramp on. The guy in the shop is sceptical that I can do this. I tell him I used to be a scientist. I get some other supplies. Across the road is another electronics shop. I go in but it has changed into a coffee shop.

I go back to the house and let myself in. I turn on the TV and connect an electronic box. I start to play an internet video which I decode via the box onto another screen. The video starts with Anthony talking about his new-found Buddhism. The decoder changes his image into flowing river going over a weir. I know this to be England. The weir is magnificent and I know that there will be barbel fish under the lip of the weir. I see the image of a young man whom I know is like me and whom I will meet.

The woman of the house comes downstairs she is very excited that I have made myself at home and offers us breakfast. Later in the day there is a meeting at Cittaviveka which has been convened specially for me, away from the city and the bright lights. Far from the press.

The dream ends and I think wow that was well and truly out of the blue. For some reason I have a visual image of Kate and William.

Luxuriously Lost – Dreaming Colour – Vajra Bell – Huge Serpent – Dream 03-09-2025

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Here is last night’s dreaming sequence, which on waking seemed very significant.

The dream starts with me arriving at a brand spanking new London Underground station which I exit onto the street in front. The tube station on a standard tube sign is called “DOCTO BEN”. In the plaza outside are a number of food outlets, a news agents and a Timpson’s key place. The buildings are modern and white, a reproduction of period buildings suitable to the area which I know to be due West of the South Kensington campus. The reproduction has been done very well. Although I know roughly where I am, I am lost. I do not recognise any of the streets nor the street names which are on plaques in keeping with the area. In the dream I rationalise that it must be an Elizabeth line, new tube station.

I decide that I need to get a green district line tube home and venture northwards towards the park to look for one. I estimate I may find one there. I am unhurried and thoroughly enjoying my time being luxuriously lost with no fear therefrom. I head north. I cross a main road onto the outskirts of the park and cross the road which I know heads over the Serpentine. I wait for the little green man on the traffic lights. I start to cross. As I am crossing my mind, its visual eye, is filled with the phrase “OXO BEST”. I know this and the previous word are numerology.

The dream changes and I am upstairs in bed. Somehow the cat has gotten onto the upstairs landing and is playing with marbles. I get up to investigate she is chasing a green cat’s eye marble back and forth along the hall. I imagine the door to the upstairs to be open so that she can go back for food and toilet. I close the bedroom door so that she cannot get in.

I wake up and recall the words. I go to the loo and make a note of the words on a cardboard box in the kitchen. It is a little after six AM.

I get back to bed thinking that my dreaming is perhaps over for the night and will generally calm down now after my birthday. I don’t think that I will go back to sleep.

Slowly my visual field fills with my dreaming colour, forming, swirling and forming in its indigo-blue Rorschach blot like way. The colours form among “clouds”. The dreaming colour fills the dream landscape. I note that this is highly unusual, spontaneous dreaming colour. I allow myself to relax fully into it and let the landscape fill and the colour absorb me.

I am in my old university office and the telephone rings. It is a young woman asking if she can get a train to Memphis Tennessee from where she is. I say that I will come down to see her. I ‘phone through to the trainline and a ticket costs £1540. I meet her outside. She is with a friend. I tell her the price and suggest that she would be better off getting a hire car. She has a small day-sack on her back. She is not best pleased. I say that it is an easy drive. She says “ok, then. I will drive” and flounces off. She is a Ph.D. student due to present at conference.

The scene changes and I am sat on a faded red armchair isolated with no room reference point. I can feel the wind whoosh by my hair and the world is whizzing past as if I am travelling through space. I am reminded of the Maxwell tape adds.

—–

——

I feel absolutely rooted to the chair and the world, the universe even, whizzes past. I cannot see myself but can feel the chair and its arms under my hands. The motion is fierce.

The wind dies down and I can now see myself from the front of the chair. I am sat on the chair wearing a full bright yellow Gelug ceremonial crescent hat. I am in Tibetan style monk’s robes and have a mala on my left wrist. I look like I do now only my hair is freshly buzz-cut. I seem energized. In front of me on a very ceremonial table in its pouch is my Vajra-bell. I know that the chair is in fact a ceremonial throne, my throne. With my mind the pouch around the Vajra-bell disappears. The bell swells in size and takes on a golden radiant hue. The quality of it is vastly enhanced and intricate. The bell starts to radiate light in all directions until it becomes almost blindingly bright. But I know that this light is not normal photons. It is Vajra-tantra. I sit bathed for what seems like a very long time, the light feeling much like the gale-wind from before only vibrant.

The scene changes and I am sat at my old desk from when I lived in Brixton. On the table is an open propped up Microsoft Surface tablet. It is large and expensive. It is not mine. I can’t remember what I did the night before so I press play on the tablet. A video starts to play.

In it I can see a few men, eastern European, query Russian. They are standing in a near circle. One of them has his flies undone and what looks to be a semi-erect penis protruding. On close inspection it is the head of a snake. One of his comrades pulls gently on the snake head and guides it to the floor. Slowly a huge snake reminiscent of a fat Burmese python eases its way out of the trousers. The snake is several metres long and more than  ~30 cm thick. It is massive and powerful. It has a racing-green lush colouration and glistens with a self-moistening sheen. I am now fully in the scene and the snake comes towards me, it welcomes me and I temporarily incorporate it. I become one with it.

The scene changes to the far artic north. I am outside a base with wire mesh fence. I dig a deep square shaped hole deeper that my height. The sides of the hole are perfectly cut squared because I am digging into permafrost. Into the hole I place my Vajra-bell along with several near-spherical objects which have an egg like purpose. They are ancient and sort of sacred. I am the keeper. I then exude the snake into the hole for protection. It nestles down. I go off and cut several chunks of ice slab. These are ~one metre by one metre by thirty centimetres, they are heavy hundreds of kilos. But I manipulate them by hand and mind into the hole as a stopper. I am about to cover with dirt when Max walks by. I ask him if he would like to take a look before I close it. He is unsure but agrees.

The dream ends.

Dreaming Courses Dream – 14-08-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream had between 4 and 6 AM. Again another one seemingly out of the blue.

The dream starts in a faculty office. Behind a large desk is a woman in her 40/50s. She is powerful and dressed in an expensive skirt and jacket suit with a royal blue shirt. She exudes wealth and she is very accustomed to getting her own way, obeyed even. She tells me that the faculty have agreed to my proposals for a course on dreaming and that I may go ahead with these courses on an experimental basis. She needs to be kept in the loop of developments. She thinks that I am fearful and subordinate to her. When I simply very relaxed and fluid. I know that she has other agendas which she is trying to forward and that there are politics going on behind the scene. She hands me a book of mounted photos like a book of material swatches used in fashion or decorating design. The book of “swatches” has covers and I cannot see the contents. She intimates that she wants these included in the courses.

Her office leads out onto a full or partial quadrangle with a covered ambulatory or walk way. It has a light reddish-brown brick. There are cobbles in the quad. It feels a little like Greenwich but also has a sense of Berkley CAL. There is a history and the word meridian is to mind. On the side wall of the ambulatory there is a small wooden display case with a lockable glass front. In this cabinet I will display course synopsis for the passing footfall of students.

I go into an open room with whitewashed walls and a dark red stone or painted concrete floor. I am met there by a younger woman who has been assigned as to help me and, to keep an eye on me. She asks me why I think that there are no definitive books on dream content. I say that by their very nature dreams are nebulous and not well suited to reductionist quasi-logical methods. Dreaming is dreaming and it has to be approached via dreaming and not structure. Sense-making can hinder dreaming significantly.

I open the book of swatches to show to her. Inside it are photos of some kind of Tibetan centre, out in the country. There are images of coloured prayer flags blowing in the wind. One of small stupa only a few metres high. There are western white participants and a very few Tibetans dressed monastically. I know the word Drukpa is associated. It is clear that a part of the agenda from the powerful woman relates to Tibetan dream practices. There is more agenda.

The young woman has a notion that in dreaming cultures there is always a myth and a mythos. That these grow up around the dreams and the reporting thereof. As a part or her research she would like to see if we can seed a myth and a mythos into those participating in the dreaming. Rather than that being an ancient hagiography she wants to seed an artificial mythos and see where it goes. She ushers me over to the back of the room where there is a museum style display case with a sloping horizontal glass covered display. Under this are full depth “admiralty” drawers containing specimens. She pulls out one draw and there packed in cotton wool nests are several rock specimens. She selects a grey and black speckled “agate” egg. The black is dark like obsidian

–

–

She says that this will or could be the dream egg around which we start to create a dream mythos or myth. She is excited and I say that I am happy to explore this avenue but that it needs fleshed out. We can use the egg for the birth of the course, metaphorically.

The power woman, the principle, from before knocks and enters the room.  She is wearing high heels which have been tricky on the cobbles. I show her two pages of A4 text which will serve as a flier for the course. This text will go into the cabinet. She asks what the syllabus will be and I say that the syllabus will be decided to a large extent by the attendees and mostly by dreams. She looks sceptical.

I usher her over to a tarpaulin. On which are several plants in black plastic pots tied to short bamboo supports. I say that these are going to go into the green house and that these will comment upon and be a part of the course. I ask if she would like to help us plant them. Yes. We load half the plants onto a flatbed trolley and head out of the quad-building to the university allotment where our greenhouse is. Together we all plant the plants. The principle comments that she found it very enjoyable and that it is the first time for a very long while that she has had dirt under her nails.

We go back to the quad room. The principle asks about a web presence or page. At her prompt I know that I have to send someone a link to the dream yoga blog as it currently stands. I will do this after I have written up and posted this dream.

The dream ends and I note with some surprise on my way back from the bathroom that its exactly 6:00 AM…