Category: Whoppers

Earth Dawn – Arabic – Hidden Doorway – Rasta Seer Dream 15-09-23

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

At 06:45 I had a bathroom break and went to bed unsure if I would get back to sleep. I thought to myself lie here and see what dreams might come.

 I drift off and from space I see a planet isolated in space. It is blue and green and white. I know that this planet is the earth. Around it I can see a bright white disc of light, a corona. This layer, atmosphere of light, gradually thickens until it is around 10% of the planetary diameter. The layer implodes and then explodes into a four pointed star of white light. The earth cannot be seen only the light. The points of the star are sharp and about five planetary diameters long at maximum length. They are at the four cardinal directions, emanating from the North and South poles with an East-West perpendicular. After reaching maximum extension they disappear leaving the planet isolated in space without its white light corona.

I know in the dream that I must meditate on this and re-run the vision of the formation of the four pointed star. The dream coincides with sunrise here in France. I have the sensation that something dramatic has happened for the planet. I consciously rebuild the image several times over.

The image fades.

The next dream starts on a large ferry boat. I am sat in the library of the boat. The boat has been purchased for educational purchases but few of the people are using it thus. They are in the bar and the games room. The captain announces that he encourages people to explore the boat and to see what other facilities there are. Some people come to sit at the same table as me. They try to take a couple of my books. I say that I have already loaned them from the librarian. I show them the front of the books where there is a slip of paper with loans on. The loan slips have my name handwritten in blue-black ink and a date stamp which is current for me. The books are texts of physics and chemistry together with ancient occult treatises. These latter manuscripts are very valuable and rare. I have been studying them a long time. The people are surprised at the contrast. I explain that it is natural to me.

The dream shifts to a country estate. We are letting a landowner onto the property. She is wearing a waxed “home counties” style shooting jacket and has a shotgun split in the crook of her left arm. She warns that they have let the dogs off the leash. There are two yappy black dogs and a border collie. I give the collie my fist and he holds it in his mouth we are playing a pulling game of sorts. The woman remarks that I now have a friend and that she, the collie, is rarely like that with any human outside their immediate family.

We carry on around the property and to the place where it adjoins the sea. The woman and the daughter say that this cove is their favourite bit. I point South. I say that I prefer the view of the massif across the strait. There above the azure blue sea I can see a fortress in the bright Mediterranean sun. We are making our way along a cliff side path. I don’t like having people behind me on the path and I come to a tricky bit on the path. I say that I am going to have to sit down because I am getting vertigo. I am stuck. I say that they can take the higher path on the cliff face and I will meet them on the other side.

I sit down. I then edge along the path and around the corner of a rock. Hewn into the cliff face is kind of terrace. On that terrace is a small single slat wooden bench. There is a wooden door painted in a dark pastel blue. I can see the grains of the wood and the rushes on the seat put there for comfort. The door is of antiquity. There is a metal ring about the size of my fist at waist height to right hand side of the door. I shout out, “look there is a hidden door!”

–

–

A voice answers in Arabic that this is the door of El Shab Abdul bin Shamir or something like that. I cannot recall the exact name but it sounds like this and ends in bin —mir. The woman and two young people, men, are coming in the opposite direction along the path. She is speaking Arabic saying that this is the place he {Abdul} came to meditate and it opens into his garden. In the dream I can understand Arabic because of my crusader-priest life.

They round the corner and sit with me on the terrace. There is a suitable rock of a metre or so on the terrace. As she sits her long hair in corn row dreadlocks falls around her shoulders and reaches to the ground. One of her companions plays with her hair and says that she is Rasta. I smile because I knew some Rastafarians. She is half caste and resembles a young Whoopi Goldberg. She has dazzling blue eyes and I know her to be a seeress of some considerable prowess.

She switches to English and we discuss that from time to time she sees the long dead owner of the garden. I say, “his spirit?” “Yes” she replies. “He is a most unusual being.” “I too come here for solace from time to time.”

Unlike for the others there is no need for she and I to open the physical door. We are suddenly on the other side in a small yet exquisite ornamental garden reminiscent of the Alhambra with water fountains and immaculate planting. We are strolling along and I have the profound sense of having met this woman before. The familiarity if strong.

–

–

–

The scene changes and I am outside a European castle gate. The country is verdant. We are stood by a weir which controls the flow of water through the castle and to the castle fishponds. These ponds are used to provision the castle folk. Every spring they open the sluices for a while to allow the fish from the river into the ponds and to refresh the water. It is the time of the salmon run. People are dressed mediaeval style. There is much excitement because there is plenty to eat after a harsh and boring winter menu. The keeper of the sluice ceremonially starts to open them. The flow is slow at first. Small fish are swimming up the weir. To one side I notice a large silver male salmon leaping up the weir. It has transformed into its breeding shape.  I shout. Everyone looks. There is much joy because the annual salmon run has begun.

I wake up and feel slightly overwhelmed. It is 8:15 AM. What is only a short time in earth time has seemed like an eternity in dream time.

* I have “memories” of verdant Europe, France and a more scorched Mediteranean. The sense of time is around 800 years ago, plus or minus.

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.

–

–

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.

–

– 

 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…     …

ॐ – Dancing With Ganesh Dream 20-9-19

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Still a bit shaky. I have just woken from my afternoon nap, which usually results from my midday codeine. It is a few weeks after I broke the head of my femur and had it repaired with a Titanium nail. I am using a Zimmer frame and have a hospital bed downstairs.

Wow! That was the most intense dream I have ever had.

I arrive at the edge of a walled garden and am welcomed through a large gateway by an upright Ganesh. He has all the typical elephant features, but his gait is that of a human being. He is iridescent blue in colour and has a twinkle in his eyes. I am welcomed into his “humble abode”. He shows me around his palace gardens, gardens that are tropical and very scented. There are flowers everywhere. The garden is filled with water features. He takes me to a partially covered courtyard which has red-brown gravel. The pieces of gravel are near perfect spheres. He sits me down and we take tea together brought by his servants. I understand that this courtyard is where he practises his dancing.

A group of Indian musicians file in and seat themselves on the ground. Ganesh signals to them and they start playing. He gets up and starts to dance. His movements are exquisite, and his hands alternate between mudras beautifully and each mudra is exact and precise. He beckons me and starts to teach me some steps of his dance. {In the dream my leg functions fine.} Slowly I get the steps and we are starting to whirl and circle. It is entrancing. He stops suddenly and takes a blue-metallic AUM symbol out of his tunic. He walks over to me and presses it on my Anja centre. Slowly it penetrates and dissolves into me. I am left with a tattoo like impression on my skin. Ganesh smiles radiantly and we continue to dance.

I look at my body and notice that it has somehow taken on the same hue as Ganesh, which pleases me greatly in the dream. He laughs, at my surprise.

I awake with a start and my first instinct is look at my arms. They are not blue. They are lightly tanned and freckled with a few bruises from all the needles. It takes a while to assemble the reality of the room. I get up and go outside to smoke.

Three 14th Dalai Lama – Karmapa – Dreams

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Karmapa / Dalai Lama Dream 7-9-2012

I am in my nan’s house when two large limousines pull up and out of them come loads of Tibetans together with security who set up a perimeter around the house.

One of them is the “Dalai Lama”, another is a doctor / healer and a third is a guide for protocol. The DL has a hooded cowl over his head. They all enter into the house and we go upstairs to my grandfather’s room which is in the centre of the three story house. (I used to gaze out of here across the valley to Clydach when I was young)

They all sit down on the floor. The doctor wants to take a good look at me naked. So, I strip and he goes over me examining me very thoroughly. He seems to be satisfied. The DL is sat down on the floor. I am sat on a chair. The protocol man says that no-one should have his head above the DL. So, I sit down on the floor next to him. He removes the cowl from his head and looks me direct in the eye. He is a Tibetan man with very dark hair and roughly my own age only a bit younger. I refer to him as Lhamo only he isn’t the man who goes around as the DL, he is too young for that.

He says to me; “Can you empty your mind?”

I shift quietly and quickly into a deep meditation.

“Of course you can!” He says smiling.

He says that he has been interested to read what I have sent them

“First let’s do a little healing for someone…”

He hands me a small object and asks me to concentrate. Out of the object I materialise a scorpion.

“Detach the scorpion and you will heal the person…”

I detach the scorpion with a little difficulty and throw it into the fire.

Looking out of the window we can see that some people have turned up. The DL is used to this and he motions to security to remove them gently.

Back in the room the DL says jokingly,

“It is always fun to do a bit of shamanism, isn’t it?”

I sense that this has been a test.

He then shows me his back. It has black marks upon it. “What are these he asks?”

I say that they are bones

“Yes, I can express my bones through my skin. It is a part of the martial arts we do in Tibet which can be very deadly…”

As he speaks pins come out of the “bones” on his back.

He brings in three security guards who are dressed in brightly coloured robes. They are all trained in this. They are a mixed bunch, tall and with poor teeth. They all have a glint in the eyes.

“They are very fast and would probably win any Mixed Martial Arts contest. We have thought about entering them just for fun but thought better of it. You are trained in martial arts too, aren’t you? Perhaps you too are deadly?”

“Maybe…”

We are then in mind to mind contact for a very long time. After this he rummages around in a cupboard and sees artist’s materials there. I hand these to him and he starts to make an elaborate construction.

My aunt is downstairs. I explain to her what is going on.

Back upstairs the DL is busy building his construction. He asks me to put the fire up one level. He is a little cold. (Implied it is cooler here than in India)

The security guards come in and say that people and the press have started to gather outside the house. I have no idea how long we have been talking, perhaps days.

They decide that they will go out the front door and not the back one. Security goes out and brings around the limousines. The DL who is really the Karmapa, or a mix of the two, says that things will now really start to change. I go with them to the door and the press are there all flashlights and cameras. There are metal barriers and police to contain the crowd. The Karmapa gets into a car and they drive off.

The press interviews me wanting to know what has been going on.

“He came here for a chat and for one of the doctors to look at me. It was all very nice,” I say.

Now I am somehow back in a city. The ex-wife is for some reason around. She has heard about what has happened. She asks if I can bring her some chilli on my way back from town. I am on a tube train and footage of the visit is being played on a TV screen in the carriage. A small Ethiopian looking man is there. He says,

“That is you in the footage, isn’t it?”

“Yes”

The whole carriage turns to look at me and the footage.

I am now living on a small country estate. There are two male lions prowling around the front gate for security.

I go outside for a wander. I see a small crowd and they start to throw silver CDs at me like discuses, the intention is one of harm. I turn my back on them and by using “the force” block the CDs causing them to drop to the floor. I then fly over them and up into a truly massive tree. I then fly back into the house.

In an annexe, a type of out building for the main house, the “Toltec” group is gathered. I am now moving rapidly through the house pushing open doors as I do. I am going to give them a piece of my mind.

I go into the room and they are all sat upon chairs around the outside of the room, in a “circle”. There are many familiar faces there. I speak to them about my life path and what it means for them. {implicit is that it is very important for them} The ex-wife is in the audience and all she wants to know is whether or not I got her chilli.  This typifies the mood and even when they are shown footage of the DL’s / Karmapa’s visit and him leaving my house, they are unmoved and disinterested.

Later I am outside by a rubbish heap. I meet again the Ethiopian man only now his head is much larger.  I understand him to be a knowledgeable being. He tells me not to be worried and that he too cannot believe what he has just witnessed in terms of their arrogance and utter stupidity.

I now realise that the being I was interacting with before was definitely the Karmapa, who is known for his magical capacities.  We are now linked.

He says,” Things of true importance are always revealed in dreams and visions…”

Dream ends.

Karmapa Dream 27th June 2014

Here is my dream from 27th June 2014.

It starts in a mountain setting. The wife and I are walking along a ridge either side of the ridge the mountain falls away into azure blue mountain lakes. There is no vegetation. The air is crisp and clear. We arrive in a small mountain village and go to our hotel.

Some while after, when we have settled in a young female child comes to visit us. Her eyes are most striking. They are blue despite the fact that she is Tibetan. I tell her she has beautiful eyes and she giggles happily. She says that the Karmapa will see me now and that I am to come to the monastery / palace for instructions. She skips off. She is the Karmapa’s little sister.

That night I go out onto the mountainside and see there the fish rearing pens. They are full of young hatchlings, which are moved from one pool to another as they mature. They must be raised like this otherwise the culture will die out. They change colour as they grow and mature. The pools are guarded by a Tibetan fish stock man who is dressed in traditional ceremonial costume.

I put my hand into the water and the fish swim to it.

The next morning, I go to the palace / monastery and am shown in. Before long I am in the presence of a young man. He shows me around and tells me that they have many visitors. He is wearing monk’s robes. He shows me a long object shaped like a barometer which holds important “relics” in it. It is a staff of office and is “magical”. He lets me take it out of its box and handle it. He repeats,

“We have had many visitors, many delegations…”

He watches how the staff interacts with me. It accepts me.

We must now get you ready to meet the Karmapa, you can meet him here at this mountain cave. He points at a map.

“You must come here at 2AM tomorrow morning. “

“Will you be OK walking in the mountains in the darkness?”

I reply,

“Yes! I was born in the mountains. I will meet you there!”

I know that the young man is in fact the Karmapa.

An older more wizened Tibetan then comes in to speak with me. He is shortish and thickset. He is a combination of Chöje Akong Rinpoche and Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche and his appearance flits between these two.

He shows me a map of both the front and back faces of the mountain. It is in relief. I can zoom into the map to see the detail.

He makes emphasis on a little cabin. This is where the gatekeeper is. He keeps the keys. You will need to get a key from the gatekeeper before you meet the Karmapa.

In the dream I know it will not be the Karmapa who I will meet at the top of the mountain but the Akong / Trungpa being. I say that I will meet “them” there as they are the gatekeeper. This is a non-verbal communication “mind to mind”. This man is insistent upon the protocol, the tradition. The Karmapa however has already seen enough. He is satisfied.

The young man is now sat between two others, one of them is the Akong / Trungpa being. The Karmapa is reciting the mantra “Om Mane Padme Hum” quietly. He looks at me to see if I join in, in deep voice, or not. I do this in my head only. There is a silent acknowledgement between us that he can “hear” me doing this.

I walk out of the palace / monastery with the sensation that the Karmapa is in need of a friend. There is now a sense of inevitability “it” has now changed to when and not if.

Dalai Lama-Karmapa-Gandalf Dream 16-12-21

On top of everything else I have just had this whopper of a dream.

I am sat in a fairly sparse room somewhere in Northern India. It is one of the outbuildings to the complex of the Dalai Lama’s residence. I know this dream to be deep into Vajrayana and so I am already anticipating that things will get a little strange.  I go to the door of the building and a small red model car pulls up. It is like an open top version of a modern VW beetle. The car is just big enough for one and the exterior if a very vibrant deep red. The inside is a very dark black. I know the car to be remote controlled. I am being summoned.

I get in the car, and it sets off. It drives me around the building and then up a very steep and very prolonged staircase which it glides up. It then makes a sharp turn and heads into a building. It takes me into a room in which seated in meditation is the Dalai Lama. I get out of the car, and it vanishes.

The Dalai Lama then says, “we have been wondering what to do with you. Please take a stroll with me.”

I accompany him outside and there is a tower like structure in front of us. Near the top there are a pair of white feathered wings. He says, “they are yours; you know. Go get them.”

Instead of climbing up the tower I simply will them down into my hands. I hold them and I integrate them after which they disappear visually, but I know I have embodied them.

The Dalai Lama then berates me a little for being too cooperative and nice. He says that I am too apologetic.

He says that a man must have personality and presence in order to succeed.

In the distance inside his enclosure there are a number of wolves and a male from that enclosure is looking directly at me from a distance. We lock eye to eye.

I then say, “the Dalai Lama is sixth ray?”

“Yes, ask me and you shall be told…”

I think to myself that this is unexpected, a six ray Dalai Lama. Then on reflection why not. Why else would he keep coming back?

We re-enter a building and there are now a number of monks around. One of them is spilling milk on the floor. He is making quite a mess.

We enter the Dalai Lama’s room, and he tells me to clean up the mess. He hands me a small rag. I go to the room and instead of doing it myself I tell one of the others to clean up which he does.

The monks come in and start to kick me.

I sit down, cross legged, now dressed as a Tibetan monk. I put my hands into the thumb touching mudra and start to meditate. The monks and their blows disappear.

I then find myself dressed normally in a room full of monks. They are all sat around a throne upon which sits the Dalai Lama. I am sat next to a young man dressed in robes and with a shaven head.

He says, “do you know who I am?”

“Yes, you are the Karmapa.”

“Do you know who I am?

“Yes, you are the one we call Gandalf. Will you help me?”

“Yes, in any way I can”

We both adopt the hand position of offering and touch our foreheads together.

I awake and think that after a dream drought and with everything else going on that was a veritable whopper.

Bakula – Buddhist Arhat – Dream 12-08-2011

~ quantumdreamer ~ 1 Comment

–

A thangka depicting Bakula, one of Buddha’s sixteen arhats, with his mongoose.

–

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 monk’s 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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  • Before this dream I had never heard of Bakula nor the sixteen arhats.
  • It is possible that Anna L is dakini.

Tibetan Buddhist Search Committee Dream 29-04-23.

~ quantumdreamer ~ 1 Comment

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 this 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.

–

From the film Kundun, a portrayal of the 14th Dalai Lama

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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. 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.

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Sanskrit-Senzar- Messenger Dream 26th May 2014

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

I am standing in a column of light which is shining down on me. It comes from above. As the light shines on me it etches into my skin black tattoos, these form on my arms, my legs, my chest and my back. They are letters, words and phrases in Sanskrit and Senzar. The letters are in a black ink and cover pretty much my entire body much like the Bulletproof Monk. I carry these letters.

Next, I am in a city landscape and everyone is going to a party at city hall. There is a concert on there and people are gathering. There is an ensemble playing, it is like the Academy of Ancient Music and the instruments are all original period pieces. They are up on stage. On the ground floor and in a “box” is Princess Anne.

By this time, I have told people about the tattoos and nobody believes me. There has been some press interest but the men with their 1950’s style newshound flash cameras have lost interest. This is because there is nothing to see. The party continues on undisturbed.

I now find myself in a department store which is old style. I am curled up on the floor near a counter wearing a grey long sleeved shirt. The shop people find me there and nudge me to get up. I get up and as I do so the sleeves of my shirt fall back to reveal a list of tattoos in Sanskrit, Senzar and Chinese. These are now in very vivid royal blue and the calligraphy is exquisite, it is almost moving and definitely alive and vivacious.

The store staff are all bewildered by this and take me to a back office. In the foyer to this back office are two small Tibeto-Chinese figures. They are dressed in ceremonial costumes and approach me. They are dwarves and twins. I show them my forearms and they recognize the Sanskrit and Chinese characters; they guess that the others must be Senzar. The tattoos are now moving like a “stock ticker” scrolling across my arms. The dwarves are awestruck.

Whilst I am waiting for the store staff, I get bored and so leave the store, into a busy “New York” city street. It is raining heavily and my shirt gets wet through. It is clinging to me. I am wandering through the city in the rain with these vivid mobile, deep royal blue tattoos being the only coloured thing in a grey and black and white-grey world.

In the dream I know that I am carrying messages. I am by way of a messenger.

Later people gather around me and I show them my forearms. People now start to believe what I have told them before and all are astounded by the tattoos. I show church leaders and statesman. They are all stunned.

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In the city the younger people are setting up to go to a house party. It is the usual thing and people are gathering to go to someone’s house. They are all too busy with partying. They do not realize that the “party” is at my house.

I am now on a roof and there is a stack of old billboard type advertisements. There are several of us and we are sorting them. There is one which reads Toltec 7-14 which we find and as we do this one of the phrases in Senzar lights up on my arm. It says “Toltec 7-14 New Book” in Senzar. I know its meaning. I know it is both a date and has the meaning of dreaming symbols {7= guidance and 14 = new knowledge}.

I awake with very strong sensations on and in my forearms and chest. These are very similar to when I had the visions of myself in Buddhist monk’s robes and tattoos in Sanskrit of inter alia “Om Mane Padme Hum” nearly a decade ago. I can feel the place where the dream tattoos were, particularly on my forearms.