Charitable Foundation – Prince Willian Catherine and Harry Dream 05-03-2026

Here is this morning’s dream. The subject matter is entirely out of the blue.

The dream starts in the back of a very large limousine car. The seating is arranged like the back of black London cab. I am sat with my back to the driver and Prince William, Catherine and Harry are sat on a broad back seat facing the driver. The seats are made of a luxurious light cream leather and the vehicle is painted black. There is a privacy screen between the back seat and the chauffeur. We are driving around London towards Buckingham palace.

William, Catherine and I are discussing a charitable foundation for which I am the lead advisor and they are the lead patron-trustees. It is set up that they own a large part of the not for profit shares and I too have a small personal interest. The idea behind the charity is cross faith interdenominational. It seeks to break down prejudices and to be inclusive yet challenging. We are discussing how to finalise the articles of association and where the royal patronage seal should be on the “marketing” blurbs. Catherine in particular wants to take a very proactive role with William being more ceremonial. The are treating me like clergy.  I am entirely comfortable in their presence and they with me. They are animated and William is demonstrating a good dry piss taking sense of humour. We have pretty much concluded our discussions and Catherine takes charge of the document portfolio which she says she will have checked.

Harry, a post Meghan Harry, is back in London. He has a folder for his own charitable idea. It is to do with prisoner rehabilitation. He shows me a folder in which there are a number of files of hardcore mean violent criminals. He is debating what to do. He gives it to me. I say that why don’t we go visit them in prison and have a chat with them. He says that he thinks it needs more thinking. I say to Harry that I am entirely confident that if I were to meet these criminals I could fit in and easily strike up a rapport with them. The time is now. Harry procrastinates. I say to Harry that sometimes things don’t need to be too glossy and polished, they can be gritty and real. Harry thinks about it. He says that OK he will talk to the prison governor and he will observe my interactions with the inmates. We can decide how to formulate the charity then. Harry is unconvinced that I can get rapport with the prisoners, where as I know that I can. I am burly “beaten up” and can easily find the wavelength upon which to communicate. I give Harry back the file. I say to Harry, “carpe diem”.

William looks at Catherine and smiles. They are both glad that Harry now has something to do…

The dream ends….

Waking Dream – French GP – UK Charity Dream 18-10-2025 – Bodhicaryāvatāra

Here is the dreaming sequence had yesterday and overnight. The purpose of this current visit is to ascertain if a move back to the UK feels right and/or is otherwise on the cards. The previous few dreams have not been auspicious in this context.

Yesterday we were driving back along a valley and “no through road” “road ahead closed” signs became apparent with no further information. It is the only “A” road route. The signage for diversion was late and the following signage poor, to understate. It was done in a shoddy manner. This contributed to us getting lost in a hive of tiny single track country roads.

During the night around 1 AM the fire alarm in the bedroom started bleeping on a regular basis. I opened a window to allow air circulation. At home this often corrects. The bleeping continued. So stark bollock naked I climbed with my spastic body on a chair to investigate. The detector was stuck to the ceiling with dual sided sticky tape and two screws which had not been rawl plugged into the ceiling. The detector came away in my hands. I went to the bathroom the both of us wide awake and light on. I unplugged the battery and the bleeping stopped. The workmanship was quick-fix shoddy rushed.

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A little later around 4:30 AM. Dreaming I find myself in the upstairs room of a village / town centre region in France. On the square outside I can see a church spire. The village square is cobbled. I do not know this village. In the waiting room next to the secretary a patient is waiting.  He is a man a little younger than me dressed in maroon cords and with a sleeveless puffer jacket. He has unruly curly hair around the circumference of male patterned baldness. He greets me in French with a great deal of warmth. He is a local big cheese. I have taken over as the village doctor, the village general practitioner. {GP}

I usher him into the office, and we discuss what ails him. He is after some more codeine for the pain in his knees. I know that the previous GP had been in the habit of dishing out drugs like sweeties. I ask him to get on the table for an examination. I flex and check his knees. Whilst I can hear some arthritic crunching the mobility is good. I say that we need to wean him of the opiates. He disagrees. I ask him if he remembers having a proper easy bowel movement. No. I say that this time I will prescribe him some codeine but the next time I will reduce the dosage. I open his cardboard covered dossier and look through we discuss in a mixture of French and English his posting to French Indochina and his time in the foreign legion.

Back in the waiting room / secretarial area the room is filling up with people to see the new GP. They are not all ill. It has a social function. The secretary gives me a glass of red wine, and the next patient comes with me for consultation. She too is a local big wig. She sits in my office and asks how much wine I drink. One glass a day I reply. I know in the dream that I do not drink at all. I am saying this because the wine was by way of a welcome. She then thanks me for taking up the position as GP for the village.

The scene changes and I am in a modern squashed in English new build two-bedroom house on the upstairs carpeted landing. A letter comes through the letterbox and lands on the doormat. It is a letter from a solicitor. I open the letter, and it is stating that I have inherited the chairman ship of an unspecified charity in Lerwick. I should travel there to take up post.

I make my way to a ferry port and get on a boat to cross to the islands. First, I have to descend in a lift to the disembarkation point. I get on the boat, and it is very low tide. Out of the window and in the caldera of a fountain which is where the boat is waiting, I can see large eels, ling and conger eels. They are congregating around the central fountain. There is no water. In my mind I note that I could come back here and throw a line should I wish to catch these eels / fish. Though I am unsure that I would wish so to do or why.

On board the boat is a member of the charity committee. He is advising me that there is a power struggle at the charity and as a non-islander there is both a chance that I could sort it out or a chance that I could further precipitate conflict. I am not overly keen on finding out which.

As I start to come to, I am reminded of two phrases, “perfidious Albion” and “may I be the doctor and the nurse”. The latter of which stems from Śāntideva’s so-called bodhisattva vows.

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With my palms clasped at my heart,
I urge all buddhas longing for nirvāṇa:
Do not leave us blind and all alone,
But remain with us for countless ages!

Through whatever virtue I have gained
By all these actions now performed,
May the pain of every living being
Be cleared away entirely, never to return.

For all the beings ailing in the world,
Until their sickness has been healed,
May I become the doctor and the cure,
And may I nurse them back to health.

Bodhicaryāvatāra: An Introduction to the Bodhisattva’s Way of Life

by Śāntideva