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

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.

Interesting Concepts – Spiritual Hierarchy

The dream previous points to a real life tricky situation.

I had  visions going on with me having “om mane padme hum” tattooed on my forearms and the sensation of monastic robes. I had these walking down Brixton Hill, on the Victoria Line and sometimes whilst giving lectures on Chemical Reaction Kinetics. What to do? Should I tell my line manager? Should I pop over to human resources? I doubt they had a precedent or a protocol.{ Yes we do! Filed here under B for Buddhist visions, what to do , how to manage them and legal precedents.} Should I tell my GP doctor and risk getting sectioned? At the time I was not reading Buddhist literature nor in any contact with any sangha. So I decided to keep these things to myself. I was 95% certain what these visions inferred to me and for me.

This was a part and parcel of my journey into things non bog standard, esoteric even. Some of the science experiments I did at the time were fairly fancy tending to arcane.

From time to time an idea or concept captures my imagination. In the blue books opus by Kuhl and Bailey there is significant mention of “The Externalisation of the Hierarchy”. This is clearly an archaic terminology. But I liked the idea. People who were evolved had taken a back seat in human affairs. Now there was to be a mass incarnation event whereby all the “good guys” started arriving en masse with a view to changing the world. This effort was to be headed up by highly evolved beings known as masters who had ashrams under their tutelage. Slowly over an unspecified time all these beings would take their place as and among humanity. There would be disciples in training and initiates of various degree. There would be a stage of the forerunner and an externalisation proper.

If you do an image search for ascended masters you will get a lot of “glowing” images pastel in hue with aura / haloes and sparkly eyes. There will be a predominance of males and white caucasians as masters. They will look a bit chavvy and kitsch, dependent on your personal taste. The images are not to my preference. They hint at bias in the portrayers.

In the opus the outline of the externalisation is sketchy in detail. When I read it for the first time my initial reaction was that the scale was small, there were far too few people to have a global impact. Since it was written the global human number has rocketed towards the ten billion mark. My reason suggests that were this indeed happening seriously then the scope outlined in public and in writing would only be the merest tip of an iceberg. The opus suggests that people may not be aware if they are a disciple or an initiate at first. They may develop an inkling even a knowing in due course.

Kuhl does not discuss the difficulties inherent in the manifestation of such a thing. It is pretty obvious that there would be resistance to such a putative series of events. People of power and high socio-political status are unlikely to want to listen to some whacko who may or may not be  an adept of wisdom. In the early stages of such a process, failure would be very common indeed. Slowly, very slowly, after many failures, the collective bastions against might start to weaken. Those obsessed in materiality will resist fiercely, even if it were to offer a form of salvation for them.

Kuhl offers no timescale no Microsoft Planner or Gant chart.

It is well known in military circles that no plan EVER survives first contact.

In his outline he mentions the second ray love-wisdom effort, to which it seems I pertain in that context. This means that I should perhaps resonate with Kuhl and Koot Humi as my “spiritual generals” of sorts. We would be on a similar wavelength so to speak. In principle I might be able to establish contact with them. Though by mundane biological chronology they would be very old indeed, well past Guiness Book of Records scale. I could say that we “met” in triangulation last night and nobody could prove me right or wrong. I could make umpteen non substantiable claims. There may be the simply impressionable misguided and those taking advantage among us.

One of the key themes in the opus is Goodwill to ALL of Humanity. At the moment we see an upsurge in xenophobic hatred. The flames are fanned by the so called right wing using a point of grievance to stir up bile and anger. Like a mob at the Roman Colosseum they bay for the blood of the foreigner, the immigrant, especially the differently coloured.

This primitive group-mind savagery is easily stirred. It seems things might/must get much much worse.

In the vein of esoteric thought the incarnation of the “good guys” will precipitate more action by the “bad guys” the hateful, the vengeful and the separative. One could see the rise in nasty separative isolationist ME thinking as being an indicator that the externalisation mentioned by Kuhl is underway.

In and around now Kuhl mooted that the age of the forerunner will be drawing to a close. Although this might offer hope it also points at things getting worse before that hope can take seed and bear fruit. Those of a calm persuasion will note that the deterioration is  first necessary and may even be seen as an auspicious sign that all is in hand.

It is an interesting notion that of a timed mass incarnation. Timed to occur when the need grows as humanity has forgotten the brutal lessons of the 1914-1945 global conflict. We see slaughter of the defenceless by state of the art American munitions in Gaza. The rock in the sling is no match for a Lockheed Martin F35. It is brutal bullying plain and simple. The invasion of Ukraine has invented a new twist in human conflict a new form of war, drone war.

If humans turned their ingenuity to goodwill instead of violence who knows what that ingenuity might achieve…

The world needs one massive wakeup call as is sleepwalks deeper into climate crisis overcome with petty squabbles and quibbles. It is time for humanity to get out of the sandpit and take responsibility. It is time to grow up.

Maybe the notion put forward by Kuhl is exactly what the world needs in and around now!!

ॐमणिपद्मेहूँ – om mane padme hum – Tattoo Dream Snippet 09-09-2025

This dream snippet is from last night.

The dream opens with some kind of social gathering. I am with various young people mostly white in their early and mid twenties. They are talking among themselves. I am peripheral to but a part of the group. They start to discuss their tattoos and what, if any, meaning they have. Most of them have quite a few tattoos. Some only have one or two. They have deep meaning for some.

The conversation turns to me. They ask if I have any tattoos. I say that I have none that are generally visible to the naked eye. They do not believe me. So I take off my t-shirt and stand bare chested among them. Clearly I am not in such good physical shape but they are surprised at how heavily muscled I am. My body is older and much thicker than theirs.

I point to the inside of my forearms and say that I have “oṃ maṇi padme hūm̐” there tattooed in Sanskrit.

ॐ मणि पद्मे हूँ

It can be seen in a living blue-back ink by those who can. I say that I first noted these tattoos over twenty years’ ago when I lived in Brixton. This is when I had first vision of them. In the dream I can feel them {as I can now in writing}. I open my arms outwards to display my forearms to them. Some doubt and think I am teasing. They can see from the expression on my face and in my eyes that I am relaxed and telling my truth.

The dream ends

  • Before drifting off to sleep several hours before the dream I was silently chanting AUM, A-U-M or ॐ

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

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.

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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.

My Rosary – Dream Vision – 26-08-2025

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

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

The Future of the Dragon Dream 26-08-2025

Here is this morning’s dream had between 5 and 7 AM. It was sufficiently realistic that I just opened my email expectantly.

The dream opens with me sat on a sofa with a coffee on a glass coffee table in front. The furniture is ratan in build and the room tropical themed. There are batik hangings and a golden Thai style top-knot haired Buddha figurine. The walls are white washed and stone and there is a feel of castle and perhaps Scotland. I am somehow at home in these settings. I go over to a large dark wooden desk with a green “club” leather chair. I boot up the computer. In an email account I rarely use I scan the list of emails. One email stands out from the bunch. It has the subject line, “The Future of the Dragon”. I do not know the sender’s address.

I pause for a moment and then open the email sceptical of spam / phishing. The email opens without problem and it is addressed to me. The person would like to meet up to discuss the future of the dragon. I look to the bottom of the mail for a signature. The address is arranged in the form of a Thai Wat temple and originated from a dojo in the Malay-Singapore-Thai region with a Singapore head office. It has ‘phone numbers, email address and an Instagram account. The protagonist is called Cheng. I am unsure how to respond or when to respond. I look at the Instagram account and see a picture of a young Asian male in his mid-twenties. He is pictured in karate-gi with his pals. There are other pictures of him in the dojo, in nature and it all looks fine and above board. I note his appearance. He has at least a part Chinese to him. I resolve to wait a little before replying.

Next, I am driving South down Regents Street in London, near Hamleys. I am in my white Jeep style SUV. It is around Christmas time because the lights are on. Coming in the opposite direction, North, there is a stream of traffic which comes to a halt in front of me. A young man gets out and walks past me to see what is going on. It is Cheng. I call out his name. He stops and turns looking surprised. I say that he emailed me and that I recognised him from the photos. I say to remind him, “The future of the dragon.” It suddenly clicks. I gesture for him to get into my car which he does. I do a U-turn and gesture for his friends to follow me in their open top Jeep-Moke.

We drive off into one of the large semi-circles of grand housing next to a park. There is a pub nearby. I say that we should talk. He has suddenly gone all shy. I ask him if a beer would help. Yes, perhaps. We make  our way to the pub and are soon joined by his friends which include his tiny sister. Chris turns up and I suggest that he gets us all a drink which he does.

I ask Cheng as an icebreaker about the style of karate he was training in and offer him my shoulder to punch. I ask was it non-contact and play punch him in the head or was it full contact. He says that is was a little heard of martial art specific to region but that is not what the dragon is about. He knows that I know this. I see through my contact with him a small wizened Asian man who is tiny and dressed in a Chinese “Tai Chi” outfit. He is Malay, Burmese or Singaporean. I understand him to be a master and that Cheng is by way of his contact. I have never met the master before but he is somehow familiar. I can feel him now as I type. I can recognise him.

Cheng’s sister calls her mother back home and explains that he has found me.

The dream ends.

Waking Dream – Mystical Vision

If one was to imagine someone having a waking dream or a mystical vision it is unlikely that you would picture an unshaven white man in his sixties dressed in a white t-shirt and army surplus combat trousers who had been around the block a few time. That person would not be technically obese nor skilled in the art of high resolution laser spectroscopy. He would not be a grey. There may be a tint of eroticism to your imagination of a visionary. The person having the vision would either be young and “attractive” like Joan of Arc or Joseph with his groovy coat. There would be some kind of glow or aura perhaps. There could be some CGI graphics and perhaps some pointy elven ears. They could be a Russian mystic blinded at birth. They could be misshapen. They would have some cool sounding foreign name. They would not be called John Smith.

Either that or they could be in a secure psychiatric ward having avoided taking their medication by hoodwinking the staff.

People are likely to have prejudice about how they might imagine a visionary / whacko.

Last night whilst watching a fly on the wall crime drama about crystal meth in Norfolk I had a tremendously strong vision of the Dalai Lama and one other senior figure in Tibetan / Bhutanese Buddhism. That subjective observation has persisted on and off since then. It interfered with one of my normal nocturnal, pre-sleep meditations. This morning I have that subjective experience conflated with people at Stanford university. {They may be inquiring about Phowa practice – my guess.}

There is no logical reason why out of the blue I get a strong visual image of the Dalai Lama to mind and in mind. There is no effort for/by me to have it there. In fact it would be more convenient for it to fade. I can type, do the shopping and in a few moments, I will make a sandwich with these “visions” at the periphery of consciousness.

In the context of my normal CV and life experience it does not make sense. It is illogical and irrational. I have not exactly hung around with Tibetan Buddhists on a regular basis. Nor have I been brooding on either Tibetan or Buddhist themes of late.

After lunch I will start to sugar soap wash the wall by the log burner, then begin the chore of sizing the wood in the garage so that it is ready for use post operation in autumn-winter. We have about ¼ of the mass needed in the garage.  Once tided up, we will order a couple more cubic metres this month before the price goes up.

It is a bit odd but for me not unusual as Mr Jones might sing.