The Three Threads

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Out there in the wider world, people are busy with their business. Maybe focussed on whatever it is that may be “important” to them or so they deem. There is very little genuinely spare time, largely because that internal dialogue is rampant. Many have some kind of agenda which they seek to enact, be that as simple as going to the football and having a skin full, or not.

I have been coming around to the idea that fate has little left in store for me in terms of my interactions in a wider world for the end-game of this lifetime. I am pretty much done.

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The {my} world turns inwards and is governed largely by biological health and physical pain. I have managed to get a French rheumatology appointment for September which is contemporary with my next scheduled GP doctor appointment. I have a UK rheumatology appointment next week but they cannot prescribe for French pharmacies. I will probably self-medicate unless things get genuinely unbearable. Any hip operation looks at least a year off.

We have started looking at houses suitable for handicapped living and this is the so-called nanna-thread. The one that looks the most real, the most likely. If we end up in some nanna-accommodation with shared communal facilities, there is a chance that even if I don’t want to, I will end up in some way as spokesperson / organiser for the grey hordes. The nanna thread has UK options in Llanelli with the Scarlets or near Gloucester with the Cherry and Whites.

That is about as far as thinking has gone.

In the background my unpublished dreams provide detail of just how disingenuous and unpleasant various people, allegedly “close” to me in the past, have been towards me. Those dreams have gone beyond what I already knew to be true. I am not surprised, rather thematically bored. I could not be arsed, to recall them, to write them down. Boring.

The Buddhist-thread with Tibetan spices, seems likely to have no physical plane future. I can’t see any trajectory which might make it more substantial or solid. It seems to me “just one of those things”. A possibility in the web of life, unable to manifest, due to the reality of life circumstances. Practicality aborts dream, if you want to be dramatic.

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It may be simply a ghost, an echo, that I need to let fade, to work through my system and to let go of. There is no vicinal or proximal context.

My little dream-world does not impinge exterior. There is no data.

Of late there has been a tiny hint of something I might do were we to have a UK small-garden property. It is the merest hint of a thread. The conceptual difficulty I have is that it pertains to the “leadership” red herring. Someone gaslighted me into this notion, when in reality I have always been more about teaching, possibility and not manifestation. I cannot lead in a socio-political sense because I cannot be bothered with fake niceties and bartering politics.

For some bizarre reason some expect me to do, when I would much rather research, think and speculate. I enjoy planning and envisioning; I don’t fuss if these get binned or forgotten.

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The only thread that I can start to picture is the first. I could see the bathroom of the house we saw yesterday adapted for grip bars in the shower. I questioned whether the tiled stud-wall could support a fraction of my ~100kg. I would need a second look.

For now, these are the three threads in order or increasing tenuousness.

Monk’s Robes – Toilets – Seminar Dream 09-05-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream.

The dream starts in my chambers. They are wooden panelled and there is not a great deal of light. It is not long after dawn and I am getting dressed in my monk’s robes. I am being helped by my assistant, a young relatively novice monk. He is fussing over me. The robes which I am putting on are of Himalayan-Tibetan colour with a yellowish undervest. I am putting them on left-handed in that it is my left shoulder which is relatively bare. I am left-handed. I sit on a chair and the young monk helps me to put on some grey part woollen socks to go with my open toed synthetic walking sandals. He helps me stand up because I am very stiff and slow moving in the morning.

We go to the communal wash facilities in which there are showers and toilets. I use the toilet and come back to the line of washbasins in front of a mirror to wash my face and clean my teeth. Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche is there as a younger man maybe around forty years of age. He is smiling. He notes how the novice and I play fight a little. He jokes that he has seen quite enough of our kung fu and that we should be serious. I say that it is not a good idea to always be so dour. Something which all of us find hysterically funny.

Today I am going to give a seminar at a London university. As I approach the lecture halls / seminar block I come upon an open office scenario with cubicles for side offices. Throughout the office, on slightly raised pedestals, are isolated “Armitage Shanks” style WC toilets without cisterns. They are antique with wooden seats and lids. Several of my erstwhile colleagues from decades ago are in the office. They do not seem to notice the more than half a dozen toilets. They are fixtures. I go into one of the side offices and someone is sat upon the “throne” mid dump. I apologise and back out.

I move down the corridor and into the seminar rooms / lecture theatre. There are more Buddhist monks with me now one of whom is quite senior and bespectacled. I go into the seminar room and pick up an overhead projector which I take to the lecture desk at the front. I comment than in addition to computer slides I sometimes like to scribble.

The senior monk stands up and says that it is important not to try to take notes as handouts will be given. He says that it is particularly important to note whatever it is that Rinpoche writes down by hand. I am holding a marker pen in my left hand as he speaks. The monk says that Rinpoche’s annotations are key-like and important.

A young female member of the audience who knew me from before as a senior tutor asks me why I am wearing robes. I say that I have not yet been fully ordained and that these are by way of an experiment to see how people respond to me during the course of this three days long seminar. I say that tomorrow I might wear a business suit or sports gear.

I say to her that ordination is a bit like semantics. I am very aligned with Buddhist thinking and don’t really need a “certificate”. I say the difference between vegetarianism and a plant-based diet is also semantic. If you eat a fully plant-based diet as a vegan you are already a vegetarian and don’t need to prove your veggie status. Whereas some veggies are insistent about the virtue of their diet, a true vegan just does. Deeds are more important than words.

The dream ends.

Messaging Assumption and Miscommunication

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Postulate.

The human ability to get entirely the wrong of the stick is close to infinite.

Herein lies the mystery of perception, bias and multiple failures in communication both as a purveyor and acceptor. People may not be aware that they are, whether consciously or not, sending messages which others are receiving and perceiving and assimilating.

I suspect that because I am largely silent and can be not expressive, people tend to imagine that I am judging and being critical. They may expect some verbal response / discussion / mutual bullshitting when talking and when none is forthcoming, they can get unnerved. The feedback mechanism is missing. They expect chit-chat. In the absence they can confer multiple meanings which simply are not there.

People can read all sorts of shit into things. They may imagine I am sending a message when I am not. People might read this blog and imagine that I am messaging them directly.

The likelihood of miscommunication in the context of different cultures and frames of refence is enhanced. People may imagine that their customs are transferable. The French attitude of laissez-faire can be interpreted as complete indifference, fence sitting and not giving a shit, disinterest. It can be read, “that person can’t be arsed, sod ’em, they are not serious. Let’s move on to someone who has a point of view or opinion.”

In trying not to impinge a different message can be received. “Waste of time.”

I’ll assume with a high confidence integral that many people have made hugely erroneous assumptions over the years as to my motivations, what I am thinking and where I am coming from. This {my} assumption is based upon my interpretations of their behaviours and could be invalid. There may be transference of their ways of thinking and prejudices onto me.

There are certain types of people who like to argue the toss and “win” arguments / debates. They like to “score” points.

If someone like this expresses a point of view and one does not counter it, remaining silent even. They can assume agreement and/or victory. The lucky recipient of opinion may disagree totally but cannot be arsed to verbalise. Agreement can be assumed and the illusion of being right /accurate taken from the non-intervention.

Many introverts cannot be bothered to do the thinking for gobby extroverts. It is not important to them nor is share of air time or limelight kudos. The introverts can be disinterested in interaction.

I am reasonably confident that I have by accident, thrown a spanner into the works, with my interactions with the French medical profession. I have not behaved in the manner to which they are accustomed and they have not had the skill or experience to handle it. There has a result been extensive miscommunication and they have made assumptions about what might transpire, what I understand and how I perceive them. It can be very hierarchical. Most medics have not interacted as I have. My need to chat and discuss is vanishingly small when viewed from the angle of French customs. If I want to find out my first port of call is research which I will do thoroughly.

Once miscommunication has gone beyond a certain point the situation becomes very difficult if not impossible to salvage. This is because face and pride have now come into play and dominate, often unilaterally, subsequent interpersonal dynamics.

Postulate

The human notion of face and implicit loss of face is one of the most expensive bits of human folly in terms of relationships and loss of human life.

Face in this context is illusion, a socio-political construct which sells gossip magazines, tabloid newspapers and underpins the scripts of television soap operas.

“Face” lies aback assumption and miscommunication. People get offended, an emotional overaction, if things do not comply with assumption and social expectation. People can assume that the {their} worldview is common and that everyone holds similar prejudices to them.

Once people have gotten hold of the wrong end of the stick the tendency is to grasp this ever more tightly. Mis-perceptions and mis-assimilations of reality are more concrete and fixed than one might imagine.

There is no better demonstration of miscommunication than the game of “Chinese whispers”. Yet surprisingly, given this knowledge, the faceless and ubiquitous “they” are somehow the font of all truth and knowledge….

There is not a lot you can do or say which is contrary to the omniscience of “they”. No matter how well you communicate it, it cannot be perceived accurately because “they” dogmatically forbid it.

The wrong end of the stick beckons with the gravitational pull of a supermassive black hole…

Away From the Highfalutin

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Irrespective of anything fancy, life goes on much as normal here. Yesterday I went to see the arse doctor and today we went to see the boob doctor. I was being followed up for post operative colon cancer and the wife for post-op breast cancer. In July I have an appointment for a colonoscopy and in August one for the higher PSA level and a prostate follow up.

I was thinking of a tune but I could not quite put a finger on it so to speak

“Bum-titty-bum-bum…”

Once I have seen the chimney sweep, and after my joyous interaction with industrial grade laxative, if all is well and supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, there is no more programmed chimney sweeping for five years.

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My next GP appointment is, barring any health change, due in October. I have a rheumatology appointment next week, which should provide some clarity. The issue of two {three} major operations on my hips will be on hold over the summer.

We view a house for sale later this week which will make the downsizing real. A brief visit to Jersey will advise if we can hack being surrounded by anglophones.

At the moment aside from the wife, I speak briefly with the guy who cuts the grass every few weeks, 4-6 times per year with the GP and with the physiotherapist every three weeks or so. That is the full extent of my external “social” interaction. I speak with nobody on the ‘phone or internet and am not in any email dialogue. People might find that extent of social interaction difficult to believe. But it is true.

It is possible that we may downsize this year. The tax return has been sent off.

Shortly I have 75kg of dry bentonite in the garage. The pond has a slow leak and I am going to attempt to plug that a little with clay. Then before we have any drought warning I will refill the pond from the river.

The contrast between the day to day life and what happens in the dreaming is marked.

My “diabetic” socks from China have just arrived without any tariff notice or to pay.

There are two decisions pending patent and blog…what to do…

Life goes on pretty much as normal…nothing fancy…

Context and Scale

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People can be more than a little blinkered when it comes to looking outside of their own context, their own world. At the moment we have an American president viewing everything through the idealised spectacles of what America once was and not giving a shit how the rest of the world views them. If he is trying to sell us the American dream he is failing, all that once was good about Americana is getting tarnished. That old man is doing harm to the image of US of A, he is bad marketing PR for USA plc. He is teaching everyone else to avoid relying on them and depending on them, to make relationships elsewhere. He is reducing their importance.

Maybe he is a visionary. I think he is stuck in some faux-sepia image of a Great America. Times have changed. He is trying to raise it from the dead. Without tariffs “capitalist” America is no longer competitive commercially.

Let’s remake “The Bird Man of Alcatraz”.

Hindsight is often 20:20 but people can be {willingly} blinded if there is something in it for them. With a modern context this image differs from when it was taken.

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People seeking kudos and fame associate with those who might purvey that for them. The single minded can neglect hazard warning lights.

People can get very caught up in their own world unaware that there is a much wider context and a scale which they are completely oblivious of. Their own little world, the relationships and socio-political pecking order are tantamount; the border and boundaries of universe are defined. Like a particle in a box only certain behaviour wavefunctions are allowed. They are confined. It rarely occurs that to an outside eye they might look a bit odd.

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They can be surprised if you even suggest that there is something outside of their “world”.

For quite a while I was closeted in UK science academia and unaware of how the outside world thought and did. Aside from the jibes of my father, “those who can, do, those who can’t, teach!”, I had a fairly naïve view of business.

I’ll suggest that my worlds now extend way beyond that microclimate and that I am appreciative of a much wider set of contexts than I once was. I have a sense of scale which surpasses my mundane existence as a “poor” arthritic retired person.

I know that the previous post in this blog if taken seriously, by those whose world to which it pertains, is a very big deal if true. If I am just a nut job and a dreamer then it is of no import. In one context big, in another irrelevant. Context matters.

There is no way you can advise, warn or help an “omniscient” being to learn, to see a wider perspective. By definition those who think they know a lot are the least willing to accept any new stuff outside of their world, their assimilation of reality. Caught in mundane socio-political advancement games they do not know what harm they are doing to themselves. What karma they are making.

And nobody can help them see. This is because they do not want to see, they already know best.

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If for example you were to find yourself interacting with a Bodhisattva of a certain degree. You could have no idea of the context in which you are interacting nor of the scale of implication of your actions. Chances are you would try to shoe-horn your interaction into your customary context or set of contexts.

I might be able to still have a conversation for a while within the confines of an academic context world-view. I can borrow a trailer from the farm store and bring my sit on tractor-mower to them for repair, highlighting the problem areas on an engineering diagram. I have learned {partially} a new context. The scale of a two acre garden was way bigger than I had first anticipated. I know now.

We all of us learn {hopefully}. A good starting point is to imagine that there are very many things outside of our preferred and well used, dog-eared contexts.

Someone not so long ago told me that the Guardians of the Race did not exist, that there was no such thing as the spiritual hierarchy. He was adamant and insistent.

Clearly it was I, as is so often the case, who is/was in need of education…

My Five Buddhist Incarnations – Dreaming

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In around 2003 whilst living in London and working as a lecturer in Physical Chemistry at Imperial College in London I started having waking visions of myself dressed as a Buddhist monk / priest. These visions overlaid normal day to day reality and I was able to lecture to a theatre full of ~one hundred students on chemical reaction kinetics or in smaller groups, chemical applications of group theory, whilst these visions were resident. They persisted on the crowded Victoria Line tube trains. I had repeat visions of om mane padme hum tattooed in Sanskrit on my inner forearms. Accompanying these images was/is the sensation of tattoo. These visions lasted on and on for over a year.

I did not mention this to anyone because I thought it would not go down well in the Chemistry department. I thought human resources might not appreciate this and occupational health might be consulted.

I however was pretty sure that this was past life recall.

Obviously, it is impossible to prove scientifically, that any past life recall is real. At best there can be what the courts call, circumstantial evidence. Dreaming comprises some of this kind of evidence.

In 2009 I had a series of visionary telepathic conversations, early in the morning, walking in the woods near Tring with the master Djwhal Kuhl. He told me of five of my previous lives, two of which were Buddhist. He said that I had been a very close disciple of Siddartha.

The dream yesterday has added Nāgārjuna to the list of possible life-candidates.

Irrespective of accuracy or otherwise the theme of scholasticism and scholar runs through all the/my putative incarnations as does the theme of entrepreneurship. I am “on” the second ray, of the Elephant dreaming class and conditioned by love-wisdom, the teaching ray.

One dream suggests that I was Bakula a close disciple of Siddartha who came late to the path after a scholarly life.

Yesterday’s dream suggests some six hundred years later Nāgārjuna. Who was a “founder” of Mahayana and may have taught at Nalanda university.

Another dream has pointed at a saffron trousered Muay Thai trained Burmese / Thai incarnation, a monk/priest/protector.

Then there is dreaming evidence of a Japanese Vajrayana monk incarnation, with poetry.

{The feeling for me is that I also had a Japanese Zen life but no dreams as yet}.

The next two lives were not substantially Buddhist.

Of late there has been increasing “evidence” for a 20th century incarnation as a Tibetan Buddhist. So far there is no evidence of a named individual. If it was a sequential birth then they need to have died before or in early 1964. If it is a shared emanation then there is no strict constraint of time frame.

It is not for me beyond the realms of possibility that I have had five {six} incarnations with a dominant Buddhist flavour and of a non lay orientation.

It is not going to detrimentally affect my career prospects to write about this here and now.

I can just be some crazy eccentric old git living like a quasi-hermit.

“Look at the twp boy over by there…”

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Dream Follow Up – Nāgārjuna

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The first obvious thing to note is that the dream from this morning contrasts significantly with the one about semiconductor clean rooms the day previous.

Nāgārjuna is a highly significant figure in the development of Buddhist thought. He has an entry in the Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy.

Nāgārjuna

There are numerous scholarly articles on him and he is represented often on water

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Here he has a seven snake halo/aura, is on water and with lotuses.

At Samye Ling of the Karma Kagyu in Scotland he is like this, protected by the Nāgāraja king cobra.

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Our pond looks like this and in a few weeks, we will again have full flower.

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Given that we watched Helen Fry on Motorways, an episode of Annika and 24 hours in A&E on the TV last night, there is no obvious “reason” as to why I should be dreaming of a named Buddhist from ~ two thousand years ago.

In my putative chronology of incarnations there is a gap around Zero AD.

The mantram associated with the heart sutra:

gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā

Gone gone, gone beyond, gone beyond the beyond, hail the great awakening.

I once had a blog called “aum parasmagate”

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It is a little strange and for sure this is the first time explicit mention of Nāgārjuna has occurred in my dreams.

The wife asked, “what do you do with dreams like that?”

There is nobody to tell about them. I can put them up on the blog and make a mental note. That is about it.

Lightning Tree – Rainbow – Karmapa – I Ching – Windhorses – Nagarjuna Dream – 05-05-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream / vision.

The dream starts with a view of a large, gnarled tree with many visible roots. The tree is effectively dead with no foliage or growth. I know it to be a bodhi tree which has been struck by lightning.

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The tree is in the middle of a temple / monastery courtyard. It is in a square shaped flowerbed sectioned off with stones. The courtyard is very foot worn. Around the edge is a quasi-covered walk way on all four sides. There is one entrance and one exit corridor. The feel is very Tibetan / Himalayan. This tree has lain dormant ever since it was struck by lightning, by a thunderbolt, dorje. There is sun on the tree and despite its state it is tended and looked after.

This morning a young novice monk to whom the job has fallen is weeding and watering the tree. He notices significant new growth which has appeared overnight. There is growth on some of the roots and higher up in the tree. That growth has been caused by me and my arrival on the planet. The young monk is very excited and runs to find someone to tell. Soon there are a few monks there looking and chattering excitedly. They look up to the sky and to the South they can see a rainbow just below the clouds. The rainbow is feint but persistent. There is much excitement, which increases.

I wake up for a loo break it is 4:30 AM.

In between sleep and wake, I become very aware of the 17th Gyalwa Karmapa in my full visual and mental field. It is as if we are some how joined twinned or connected. The feeling is guttural. They have started some kind of pre-dawn / dawn ritual in honour of the Parinirvana of Siddhartha. They are in a planetary sense to the East of me. There is chanting and those awful horns. I can hear and feel the ritual as if I am there in the hall with them. The visual image of the 17th persists and it is even here slightly as I type. It is clear that something is up / happening. I wonder if the Dalai Lama is dying but search for him and can still find the feeling of him, so am reassured. The ritual goes on and I know in one sense it is connected with me.

I drift off.

I am shown D whom I knew ~ 20 years ago. He is bloated and unwell. He is filled with anger and even hatred towards me. I can see his bloated bare stomach upon which are written the positions by number of each of the 64 I Ching hexagram numbers. They are medical points. I know that he has misused Dao and that he has been taught dark Dao and it has taken seed in him and others. The only chance that they have is to use the I Ching medically to reverse and impede the spread of bad-Dao. I am the key.

The scene changes and I am in the garden outside my office here. I can hear some noises up by the purple rhododendron. Out of sight I can hear munching. I catch sight of a grey spotted foal and her mother a dark brown horse. So as not to scare them I move very quietly. I know they are windhorses or lungta. They jump up and run along the top of our hedges down towards the river. The foal stops and takes a snack on the maple. As they approach the river they are joined by two more white adult horses. Together all four of them ride off along the tops of the French oaks by the river. They are not touching the oaks but flying and galloping in the air.

I am now in communication with some being which says that I am of Nāgārjuna with the j being specific. That I am of the nāgas and nāgarājas.  That is my source and my belonging. I am of Nāgārjuna. The role of the nāgas is not yet understood.

The dream ends.

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Notes:

Nāgārjuna (Sanskrit: नागार्जुन, Nāgārjuna; c. 150 – c. 250 CE) was an Indian monk and Mahāyāna Buddhist philosopher of the Madhyamaka (Centrism, Middle Way) school. He is widely considered one of the most important Buddhist philosophers.

Nāgārjuna is widely considered to be the founder of the Madhyamaka school of Buddhist philosophy and a defender of the Mahāyāna movement. His Mūlamadhyamakakārikā (Root Verses on Madhyamaka, MMK) is the most important text on the Madhyamaka philosophy of emptiness. The MMK inspired a large number of commentaries in Sanskrit, Chinese, Tibetan, Korean and Japanese and continues to be studied today.

From Wikipedia

Deep UV Lithography Concept – Wine Blend Marketing Dreams – 04-05-2025.

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Here are this morning’s dreams perhaps relating to a previous incarnation in this life.

The first dream starts in the sub-floor of an ultra-high class semiconductor clean room fabrication facility {FAB}. This FAB is state of the art and ultramodern. I am dressed in appropriate kit for a clean room suited, masked and with a yellow see-through plastic visor. I have booties and gloves on and am with two other men one of whom is a senior manager of the FAB.

They are showing me all the sub-floor gas, chemical and liquid supply lines with mass flow controllers and blinking green LED status lights. They show me that the metal-organic supply modules are plug and play, when one of them empties you pull the module out and fit new one. The modules arrive on weight bearing “rails” suspended from the FAB sub-floor ceiling. The modules slot in.

They show me the bank of lasers which supply, via light tubes, the lithography apparatus upstairs. The ultraviolet excimer lasers are each double hermetically sealed in case of failure and corrosive gas leakage. They then take me upstairs to show me the 200, 300 and 450mm Silicon process lines with onsite dielectric growth.

They show me the current deep ultraviolet {DUV} lithography tools and how they fit into the wafer process lines. We get out a plasticised non-shedding engineering diagram of my lens-mirror beam conditioning design which fits to the penultimate stages of beam delivery optics in the DUV tools. This is patented by me.  I am confident that the protype we have made is retro-fit able to current tools sets. They agree. We decide to try it out on their pilot research line which can be found elsewhere in the FAB campus facility. The anticipation is that we will use it first on the 13 nanometre node test rig and then if it works to specification, introduce it into production.

The dream changes scene and I am at an up market conference facility. I am running a challenge team training course for three groups of diverse people. I have set them into teams each with their own breakout room base and kitchen. In each kitchen is laboratory style equipment and several bottles of wine from different origins within the same country. Their task as a team is to make a blend for mid-high market sale and develop a marketing strategy together with a launch pitch for their blend / brand.

There is some grumbling about getting their hands dirty and having to make a blend taste it and market it. One of the team leaders is a woman and she asks to be excused from tasting because she is a disqualified driver who lost her licence for drink driving. I say that she can lead up the market/launch sub grouping for her cohort. They have 24 hours.

There is a large hubbub and two teams have red wine and one white. They also have to design labelling and to bottle up six of the product for the launch stand. The wine will be tasted by a small panel of “experts”. As time is running out, I go around to check the branding ideas. The white wine concept led by the woman is “Earth Berry” and is based on a Sauvignon Blanc ultra-dry crisp gooseberry finish. It smells good and clean. One of the teams “led” by a fairly corpulent man with dark hair in a pin striped suit is in disarray and squabbling. I remind them that this is not just a game and that their jobs depend upon performance. They are resentful, in that team, that they have do this task as they see it as below them. The man is pompous and arrogant. There is ill will towards me.

The dreams end.