I was taken by the dream to Caer Paravel…and Aslan
The Deep Magic – Dream Follow Up
Tag: dream yoga
Chaotic Mess – Rare Slow Soul Magic – Dream 12-12-2025
Sleep last night came in two segments 12 – 2:30 and after an hour of TV, 4 to 7. In “A Discovery of Witches” season two last night Diana masters the ninth knot, the spell of endings and beginnings, the knot of completion(s). Implicit is inherent in this is also the tenth knot. Diana a weaver and time walker prepares to travel back to modern day.
The first part is in the early sleep and shallow. I am with the ex-wife. She wants to show me what is going on in the village. She insists that I go to see what has become of the village pubs. She is curious and very nosey. She wants all the gossip. Reluctantly I go with her and one of the pubs is under new management. He is trying to make a go of it. The pub is in a state of mess and undergoing renovation. A part of it is open for business. We go in and he asks what I want. I ask for a pint of Guiness and it takes long while to pour and settle. The ex-wife has a half of bitter and proceeds to go around chatting at/with everyone else in the pub. I ask the landlord about his plans.
We move off to the next pub. This is more lively and all the village folk some from out of town and some born are ostentatiously getting pissed up. The air is of forced jollity, almost an anxious jollity. This pub is better lit. The locals all stare at me. Once again the ex-wife works the room talking to everyone and gossiping about life in the village and in general. I do not see the point of it in the dream. The pub is a mess and someone needs to do a glasses round and wipe down tables. There is a hint of Christmas party and the TV in the pub is blaring away in the background. It is harsh to the senses.
I awake for some poor TV, a pill and two lion bars.
Back now in the dream I am upstairs in a retreat centre type house. It is redbrick and old. On the other side of a single track road is a chest height red-brick and flint wall behind which is a substantial weir and mill race. The river is powerful and the water deep and of a green hue due to the weeds. I know the building I am in is aligned to the old water mill. It is a part of the complex. The feel is very similar to Llangollen. The smell is similar too; we are near mountains. I am lying on the bed with the window open. The net curtains are blowing lightly in the breeze and I can hear the deep bass rumble of the water on the weir.
I hear a key in the door downstairs and in walks Paul and Emma. (Walker). They walk through into the kitchen and I can hear the keys being thrown into a small ceramic pot / ashtray. The pot is glazed agate green. I can hear Paul complaining to Emma about me. He complains how things can be messy after I have been and that although the mess is not mine it is in response to me that the chaos and mess ensues. He is not happy about me being there and wants me to go. His unwelcome is widely held among many people. I do not do what they deem I ought to.
I come down stairs and Paul intuits that I have heard what he has been saying. He asks if I have heard. I affirm. He says that there is no point pretending then. I say that I am not in the least bit upset. I have something to show him. In the kitchen are plates and cutlery unwashed. He looks at them with scorn. We all go out into a walled garden and to a stand-up wooden table in a “beer-garden” private to the property and which overlooks the weir.
I say to Paul that I possess a special rare type of magic. This he doubts as otherwise I would have used the magic to clean up. I say that this magic is not of a material kind, the kind for tricks and show. I say that my magic is a special kind of magic known by some as Soul magic. This magic is of a very slow effect. It is a slow Soul magic. He is sceptical.
I hold up my left hand and a brown hen’s egg appears in it. This catches his attention. It cracks and the top comes off. It is now like a soft boiled egg ready for eating in “dippy eggs”. I say to him that my magic, the deeper magic, pertains only to the Soul. It is not mundane. In the dream he understands that the egg is a metaphor for the Souls. I say that yes I can and do work directly with the Soul(s).
The dreaming view looks down at the soft yolky egg from above and then zooms out to a side view. A small amount of yolk has run down from the egg along my fingers and onto my white inner wrist. I say that even Soul magic is of two kinds, the magic of the Souls evolving through lifetimes and that of the spark within. True magic is about the creation and enveloping of the spark within a Soular casing, the egg of lives. The ultimate magic is about liberation in which the ovoid shell, the eggy casing of the Soul is rent and evaporates only to leave the spark within and thence throughout. Soul magic is about encapsulation and liberation. It is beyond the sight of most and not to the everyday taste.
As they watch the egg starts to dissolve shimmering into space with a shimmering of tiny golden insubstantial flecks. Leaving a tiny bright yellow-orange radiant spark or flame. Which is suspended above my fingers. Paul and Emma are temporarily transfixed. They come to with a jolt and all they can see is my upstretched left hand with fingers touching from where the egg once was. They can see a small trickle of bright yellow yolk against the white inner skin of my wrist.
The dream zooms out and looks directly into the depths of the water going over the mill race weir. I know that those prone to the chaos of the West struggle to see the beautiful order and patterns of time.
I come to and feel the stiffness in my hips and lower back…
Dream Follow Up – Alchemy
All of these are extracted from English language Wikipedia. The theme of scripts and angels crops up herein. There are hints thereof in my recent dreams.
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John Dee (13 July 1527 – December 1608 or March 1609) was an English mathematician, astronomer, teacher, astrologer, occultist, and alchemist. He was the court astronomer for, and advisor to, Elizabeth I, and spent much of his time on alchemy, divination, and Hermetic philosophy. As an antiquarian, he had one of the largest libraries in England at the time. As a political advisor, he advocated the foundation of English colonies in the New World to form a “British Empire”, a term he is credited with coining.
Early life
Dee was born in Tower Ward, London, to Rowland Dee, of Welsh descent, and Johanna, daughter of William Wild. His surname “Dee” is an anglicisation of Welsh du (black). His grandfather was Bedo Ddu of Nant-y-groes, Pilleth, Radnorshire; John retained his connection with the locality. His father Roland was a mercer and gentleman courtier to Henry VIII. Dee traced descent from Rhodri the Great, 9th century ruler of Gwynedd, and constructed a pedigree accordingly. His family had arrived in London with Henry Tudor’s coronation as Henry VII.
Dee attended Chelmsford Chantry School (now King Edward VI Grammar School) from 1535 to 1542. He entered St John’s College, Cambridge in November 1542, aged 15, graduating BA in 1545 or early 1546. His abilities recognised, he became an original fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge on its foundation by Henry VIII in 1546. At Trinity, he designed stage effects for a production of Aristophanes’ Peace. Using pulleys and mirrors, Dee was able to create the illusion of “the Scarabeus flying up to Jupiter’s palace” in a mechanical contrivance possibly based on rediscovered classical techniques. Dee would later claim this to be the source of his reputation as a magician. In the late 1540s and early 1550s, he travelled around Europe, studying at Louvain (1548) and Brussels and lecturing in Paris on Euclid.
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Edward Kelley or Kelly, also known as Edward Talbot ( 1 August 1555 – 1597/8), was an English Renaissance occultist and scryer. He is known for working with John Dee in his magical investigations. Besides the professed ability to see spirits or angels in a “shew-stone” or mirror, which John Dee so valued, Kelley also said that he possessed the secret of transmuting base metals into gold, a goal of alchemy, as well as the philosopher’s stone itself.
Legends began to surround Kelley shortly after his death. His flamboyant biography, his relationships with Queen Elizabeth I’s royal magus John Dee and Rudolf II, Holy Roman Emperor, his repute of having great alchemical skill, and his claimed ability to communicate with angels have all led to his relative notoriety among historians.
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Angelical, the “Enochian” language
Kelley believed that angels communicated to him in a special language termed ‘Angelical’, subsequently called Enochian, which he then relayed to Dee. Some modern cryptographers argue that Kelley invented it (see for example the introduction to The Complete Enochian Dictionary by Donald Laycock). Some say that this was all a farce, but are not clear whether Dee was a victim or an accomplice. Because of this precedent, and of a dubious connection between the Voynich Manuscript and John Dee (through Roger Bacon), Kelley has been suspected of having fabricated that book too, to swindle Rudolf.
Kelley said that Angelical was dictated by angels who he saw and heard by means scrying in a crystal ball or mirror. He also described the angels as communicating by means of tapping out letters displayed in a rectangular tablet. The first third were tapped out with each Angelical word backwards; the following two-thirds with each word forwards. There are no significant errors or discrepancies in word usage between the first and following parts. The English translations were not tapped out but, according to Kelley, appeared on little strips of paper coming out of the angels’ mouths.
Dee considered the dictation of the Angelical material highly important for three reasons. First, Dee believed Angelical represented a documentable case of true glossolalia, thereby proving Kelley was actually speaking with angels and not from his imagination. Second, the angels communicated that their language was actually the original prototype of Hebrew: the language with which God spoke to Adam, and thus the first human word. Third, the Angelical material takes the form of a set of conjurations which would summon an extremely powerful set of angels who would reveal many secrets to those who sought them, especially the key to the philosopher’s stone, to god-like wisdom, and eternal life.
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Enochian (is an occult constructed language —said by its originators to have been received from angels—recorded in the private journals of John Dee and his colleague Edward Kelley in late 16th-century England. Kelley was a scryer who worked with Dee in his magical investigations. The language is integral to the practice of Enochian magic.
History
According to Tobias Churton in his text The Golden Builders, the concept of an Angelic or antediluvian language was common during Dee’s time. If one could speak the language of angels, it was believed one could directly interact with them.
Seeking contact and reported visions
In 1581, Dee mentioned in his personal journals that God had sent “good angels” to communicate directly with prophets. In 1582, Dee teamed up with the seer Edward Kelley, although Dee had used several other seers previously. With Kelley’s help as a scryer, Dee set out to establish lasting contact with the angels. Their work resulted, among other things, in the reception of Angelical, now more commonly known as Enochian.
The reception started on March 26, 1583, when Kelley reported visions in the crystal of a 21-lettered alphabet. A few days later, Kelley started receiving what became the book Liber Loagaeth (“Book [of] Speech from God”). The book consists of 49 great letter tables, or squares made of 49 by 49 letters. (However, each table has a front and a back side, making 98 tables of 49×49 letters altogether.) Dee and Kelley said the angels never translated the texts in this book.
Receiving the Angelic Keys
About a year later, at the court of King Stephen Báthory in Kraków, where both alchemists stayed for some time, another set of texts was reportedly received through Kelley. These texts comprise 48 poetic verses with English translations, which in Dee’s manuscripts are called Claves Angelicae, or Angelic Keys. Dee was apparently intending to use these Keys to open the “Gates of Understanding” represented by the magic squares in Liber Loagaeth:
I am therefore to instruct and inform you, according to your Doctrine delivered, which is contained in 49 Tables. In 49 voices, or callings: which are the Natural Keys to open those, not 49 but 48 (for one is not to be opened) Gates of Understanding, whereby you shall have knowledge to move every Gate…
— The angel Nalvage
But you shall understand that these 19 Calls are the Calls, or entrances into the knowledge of the mystical Tables. Every Table containing one whole leaf, whereunto you need no other circumstances.
— The angel Illemese
Phonology and writing system
The phonology of Enochian is “thoroughly English”, apart from difficult sequences such as bdrios, excolphabmartbh, longamphlg, lapch, etc.
Alphabet
The language was recorded primarily in Latin script. However, individual words written in Enochian script “appear sporadically throughout the manuscripts”. There are 21 letters in the script; one of those 21 may appear with or without a diacritic dot. Dee mapped these letters of the “Adamical alphabet” onto 22 of the letters of the English alphabet, treating U and V as positional variants (as was common at the time) and omitting the English letters J, K, and W. The Enochian script is written from right to left in John Dee’s diary. Different documents have slightly different forms of the script. The alphabet also shares many graphical similarities to a script, also attributed to the prophet Enoch, that appeared in the Voarchadumia Contra Alchimiam of Johannes Pantheus, a copy of which Dee is known to have owned.
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Liber Loagaeth
or
Liber Mysteriorum, Sextus et Sanctus
The Angelic Tables
revealed to John Dee and Edward Kelley
Edited by Joseph H. Peterson
© 1998 by Joseph H. Peterson; updated Feb 2, 2023.
INTRODUCTION
This sixth volume of John Dee’s Libri Mysteriorum consists entirely of a book “in the angelicall language” which was revealed in the scrying stone. Dee is told it is “a Book of Secrets and Key of this World”. Most of the book consists of tables of letters and numbers, each having forty-nine columns and forty-nine rows. Dee is told,
“God shall make clere whan it pleaseth him: & open all the secrets of wisdome whan he unlocketh. Therfore Seke not to know the mysteries of this boke, tyll the very howre that he shall call thee. For then shall his powre be so full amongst you, that the flesh shall not be perceyued, in respect of his great glory.” (April 18, 1583)
“Oute of this, shall be restored the holy bokes, which haue perished euen from the begynning, and from the first that liued And herein shalbe deciphred perfect truth from imperfect falshode, True religion from fals and damnable errors, With all Artes; which are propre to the use of man, the first and sanctified perfection: Which when it hath spred a While, THEN COMMETH THE ENDE.” (May 5, 1583)
I believe that the details of its production reveal a lot about its nature, so I will recap them briefly.
The bulk of the text from this book is taken from Sloane manuscript 3189. However that manuscript does not contain the complete text. The earliest parts of the book are recorded in Sloane manuscript 3188. They were revealed using an elaborate and time consuming method: Kelley read the name of each letter one by one, and Dee wrote them down. Later, they were written out in Roman letters. Kelley was temporarily endowed with a mystical understanding of the book for a time, and was able to give notes on pronunciation and translate some words and phrases. Apparently part of the problem with this method was that Kelley had not memorized the alphabet (for which he and Dee were chided by the angels) and presumably had to refer elsewhere for the names. This method is later abridged, and Kelley simply read the names (or Roman equivalents) and Dee wrote them down in Roman letters, thus omitting the names of each letter. This method was also too cumbersome, and in the end Kelley wrote the rest down himself resulting in Sloane Ms. 3189.
An early copy of this ms. can be found in Sloane Ms. 2599, possibly by Elias Ashmole.
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My commentary.
The notion of angelic scripts and language perhaps has a Tibetan cousin in dakini script. The so-called occult language of Senzar or Sensar is said to be ideogrammatic and not letter based. A brief look at a proto-Hebrew today shows a more ideograph like formation. At some stage language evolves(d) from picture or image into scripts. The early occultists like Crowley were fascinated by Hebrew script and Jewish Kabbalah. It always felt a bit cul-de-sac to me. They got all excited by the lack of vowels. The sound of the name of God was a big deal.
The wishful thinking for a Hitchhiker’s guide to life the universe and everything was clearly extant in the late 16th century. I speculate with confidence that the human mind would be unable to fully encompass such knowledge. It would be beyond assimilation. Yet people are always tempted by the promise of secrets, secret advantage. People have to make a living somehow. The “pitch” of talking with angels could not be disproved. Though why any angel would want to talk to geezers like Dee and Kelley is not explained.
Immortality in a puss filled world with life of often short duration seems an attractive notion. The Philosopher’s stone a powerful temptation. Possibly a good scam to put bread and wine on the table. In a world not renown for personal hygiene and Roman plumbing one needs some hope.
My own experience of looking into these things {before} is that they are like a dog chasing its tail. The answer, if there is one, is not intellectual nor will it arise from decoding letters and numbers. No matter how “Bletchley Park” one might be.
My yardstick is boredom. If something has an interesting hint, a whiff of something exciting, I am rarely bored by it. However if it is boring, I rapidly lose interest. The boredom-o-meter is an intuitional thing. It shows that there is no promise, no feeling of promise.
If one is underground a fresh breeze may indicate a way out of a cave.
Complexity is boring, though it may seem clever. It is often a mind-trap. Complexity stokes the embers of ego.
Anyway…I have front loaded some more stuff into waking consciousness. We shall see if there are any more dreams…
Through Female Eyes – Ancient Hebrew – Operating Theatre – Horses Dream 09-12-2025
Last night’s dream. For me it is very unusual in that I am seeing a fair part of the dream through the eyes of a woman. The dream is in two parts, before and after a TV/snack break around 4:30 AM.
The dream starts with the visual field filled with a “word-cloud” of letters in black ink on a white background. The background looks a bit like a piece of cloth or parchment, frayed a little. But it is entirely mental, a mind projection. The letters are Latin-roman and the letter-word-cloud is in English, by way of a codex or very loose cypher or key.
I am aware that this is not my body and that I am female in it. I can feel long female plaited hair and the overarching perfume is female. The body is in good nick and pain free. The mind is academic and is problem solving. It is asleep and dreaming. The difference in smell is marked.
The word-cloud changes to a slightly more yellowed background. Here the text has some similarities to modern Hebrew only is in a much less brutal type face. The text is handwritten with an italic nib and there are a lot of dots and “commas” where a superscript might be. These are diacritical marks. The word cloud comes in several different batches and I know these to be segments of text. The text feels archaic and in the dream I wonder if she is reading Aramaic. She is familiar with the text I am not. It is old.
{On waking a quick Google search suggests that the text is archaic or ancient Hebrew. The level of confidence for this designation is around 70-80% by eye.} I get up for a “midnight snack” and to watch some shit TV to help me go back to sleep instead of tossing and turning.
Back in bed I drift off. I am at first looking up from an operating table at people in light blue medical gowns standing around me. There is an adjustable medical light. The men and women in theatre are masked and busy. One of the surgeons has a binocular headpiece with microscope objectives. He is examining a tool closely. It is modern day.
I am now above the operating table looking down. I can see that it is not the operating theatre I was in. I have a clear pre-operative recollection of that. I am seeing through the eyes of the woman again. She is having abdominal surgery of some kind. The sense is that the theatre is top whack high-end private medicine and it feels East coast USA money, lots of money. I am watching the procedure with a critical eye implying that the woman has some medical training.
I am now sat with the woman in a holiday “rental” near the sea and above some green grassed cliffs looking down on deserted beaches. I am making her breakfast. We are getting ready to leave. We are tidying up. Someone from the landlord comes and says that we need not do that. But I say that it is impeccable to leave a place more tidy than when found.
Before we go we go for a ride on the cliff tops. We are sharing a truly huge thorough bread dark brown horse with her in front, and me behind. We pause on a raised hillock. In the paddock below there are horses at gallop. They are very high quality. There is a man on one horse and a woman on another. They are a couple. He has the air of command. There are a several free horses being exercised and some horses with grooms following up the rear. The man pulls up and stops. He raises his hand and the free horses lie down and roll in the grass. He raises his hand again and they get up. This is his demonstration of power. They all gallop off. He waves at the woman with me who is possibly his daughter. He winks at her and then gallops off. There is some craic between them to which I am not party. They are “aristocratic” or quasi. It starts to rain and we head back to the lodge.
The dream ends.
1747 – Dream Follow Up
The date mentioned in the dream the other day was 1747.
Typing 1747 into Google started this thread…..
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Asie
12 mars, Tibet : mort du général Pholané ; son fils Gyurme Namgyal lui succède à la tête du gouvernement tibétain (fin en 1750). Il complote avec les Dzoungars contre l’occupant chinois.
9 juin : Momozono succède à Sakuramachi comme empereur du Japon (fin en 1762).
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From a Treasury of Lives
ཕོ་ལྷ་ནས་བསོད་ནམས་སྟོབས་རྒྱས།
Polhane Sonam Tobgye
b.1689 – d.1747
Polhane Sonam Tobgye (pho lha nas bsod nams stobs rgyas) was born on an auspicious day in the autumn of 1689. His mother Dolma Butri (sgrol ma bu khrid) was the daughter of a well-known artist, and his father Pema Gyelpo (padma rgyal po) was a government official who served variously as a soldier and civil official. While little is known of the extended history of Polhane’s family, his namesake estate—Drum Polha (‘brum pho lha), near Gyantse (rgyal rtse)—was a gift for his grandfather’s service to the Fifth Dalai Lama (ta la’i bla ma 05, 1617–1682) during a rebellion of Tsangpa officials in the late 1650s.
Before his birth, a local lama instructed the boy’s parents to call him Gonkyab Dorje (mgon skyabs rdo rje) and declared him the reincarnation of Ganden Tsewang (dga’ ldan tshe dbang), a recently deceased Mongol war hero and erstwhile monk at Tashilhunpo Monastery (bkra shis lhun po). This identification was affirmed in auspicious meetings with the Fifth Paṇchen Lama, Lobzang Yeshe (paN chen 05 blo bzang ye shes, 1663–1737) and Desi Sanggye Gyatso (sde srid sangs rgyas rgya mtsho, 1653–1705).
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Sonam Tobgye also left a mark on Tibet as a patron of religious institutions. Aside from the aforementioned protection of Nyingma institutions, he endowed and restored monasteries all around central and western Tibet, including Ganden (dga’ ldan), Sera (se ra), and Drepung (‘bras spungs), Tashilhunpo, Nartang (snar thang), Reting (rwa sgreng), and many smaller institutions in his home region of Upper Nyang (myang stod). From 1729 onward he increased the scale of the Great Prayer Festival (smon lam chen mo) in terms of alms, food offerings, and overall attendance.
Polhane sponsored the production of the first printed canon in central Tibet, the Nartang Kangyur, published in 1730–32, and Tengyur, in 1741–42. He also underwrote the Golden Manuscript Tengyur (gser bris ma), an ornate 225 volumes composed entirely in golden ink, which remains in Ganden Monastery to this day. These projects were far from economical and speak to the king’s desire to outdo his predecessors in the eyes of the clergy. His biography emphasizes that neither Lhazang Khan, Taktsepa, nor Kangchenne were able to complete the Kangyur, a project initiated under the Sixth Dalai Lama, Tsangyang Gyatso (tA la’i bla ma 06 tshangs dbyangs rgya mtsho, 1683–1706). Such sponsorship of Buddhist foundational material was key to his performance as king of Buddhist Tibet; in practical terms, reproducing the scriptures was a necessary step in his obligation to his Buddhist subjects.
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Shortly after the Prayer Festival of 1747, a boil appeared on the king’s neck, and after a short bout with illness, he passed away. Several years later, his remains were laid to rest in a reliquary in Ganden Chokhor Ling Monastery (dga’ ldan chos ‘khor gling) in the Yarlung Valley. His presence remains in Lhasa as well, where an unassuming maṇi wheel (bar skor ma Ni lha khang) he sponsored as a young official has been rebuilt on the Barkhor following its destruction in the Cultural Revolution, standing directly between the former ambans’ office in the Tromsikhang (khrom gzigs khang), the Nangtseshar, or Lhasa City Court (snang rtse shar/shag), and the Jokhang; a fitting locale for this larger-than-life diplomat, administrator, and patron.
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J. Arya Moallem is a PhD candidate in History and East Asian Languages at Harvard University. His dissertation research focuses on the life and times of Miwang Polhane Sonam Tobgye, and works to situate his particular mode of lay kingship within Qing, Inner Asian, and Early Modern contexts.
Published March 2022
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The Tengyur or Tanjur or Bstan-’gyur (Tibetan: “Translation of Teachings”) is the collected commentaries by great buddhist masters on Buddha Shakyamuni’s teachings. The Tengyur is included in the Tibetan Buddhist Canon, which consists of all of Buddha Shakyamuni’s teachings together with the commentaries on the Buddha’s teachings. The Canon also includes the Kangyur, which is repository of the Buddha’s recorded teachings, placed before the Tengyur in the Canon.
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Before today I do not recollect hearing the word Tengyur
Pluralitas non est ponenda sine necessitate
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Le rasoir d’Ockham ou rasoir d’Occam est un principe de raisonnement philosophique entrant dans les concepts de rationalisme et de nominalisme. Le terme vient de « raser » qui, en philosophie, signifie « éliminer des explications non nécessaires d’un phénomène » et du philosophe du XIVe siècle Guillaume d’Ockham.
Également appelé principe de simplicité, principe d’économie ou principe de parcimonie (en latin « lex parsimoniae »), il dispose d’une ancienne formulation :
Pluralitas non est ponenda sine necessitate
(les multiples ne doivent pas être utilisés sans nécessité)
Dans le langage courant, le rasoir d’Ockham pourrait s’exprimer par les phrases : « L’explication la plus simple est généralement la bonne », ou : « Pourquoi faire compliqué quand on peut faire simple ? » Une formulation plus moderne est que « les hypothèses suffisantes les plus simples doivent être préférées (il faut et il suffit) ». C’est un des principes heuristiques fondamentaux en science, mais ce n’est ni un principe de départ ni un résultat scientifique.
Le principe fait appel à une simplicité en termes de nombre d’entités, de concepts ou d’hypothèses utilisés, et non en termes de complexité de leur combinaison, les deux se contredisant généralement : si vous avez une explication d’un phénomène par la combinaison de deux causes séparées, le principe incite à rechercher une cause unique plus profonde qui serait à l’origine des causes préalablement postulées, ce qui donnera finalement, en cas de succès, une construction plus complexe mais avec un nombre plus réduit d’hypothèses.
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One of the interesting thoughts for me which pertains slightly to this blog relates to finding an internally consistent and comprehensive explanation as to the nature of the dreams I have had and which are archived in this blog. I would genuinely be interested to hear any explanation from the psychology / psychiatry profession which attempts to explain the scope of them. This specifically so given my prior training as a scientist and current life context as a relatively socially isolated retired person.
Those dreams which appear to point at previous incarnations can be discounted as merely dreams. There is no need to invoke the hypothesis of reincarnation. But saying things are just dreams is a bit of a handwaving dismissal. It is not entirely satisfactory.
Invocation of the single hypothesis of reincarnation renders explanation easier in context and does not require any complicated theorising as to just why or how come I dream about, inter alia, Buddhist themed, dreams. Inherent in this is a difficulty because it suggests that there needs to be some mechanism of transfer of memory between different lives, different incarnations. It raises the question as to what exactly is the nature of the “thing” which not only reincarnates but which is able to carry memory and recollection in the absence of a biological body. The neuroscientist is likely to prefer a brain and perhaps evolving synaptic scaffold construct to explain memory. Such a thing cannot exist beyond the soft wet matter of living humanity. There is no biological or biochemical hypothesis which can account for the notion of memory transfer between lives. The science fiction writer or scientifically inarticulate new-ager might say, “it is all in the DNA”. If it were, it is not facile to explain how “Buddhist DNA” found its way to a small valley in the foothills of Snowdon. Yes my mother when tanned could pass for an Indian especially if she wore a bindi. But the DNA explanation does not really wash. My dad was ginger.
The easiest explanation is to blame an overactive imagination on my part which somehow breaks though during sleep. Perhaps there is a part of my deep sub-conscious which wants to be “special” and thereby invents some new DSM-5 type nocturnal mental disorder, the classification of which could be career enhancing for some psychologist or other. I have a form of delusional psychopathy which may or may not be common. After all who in their right mind would make dreams like mine public? Best kept secret to avoid public gaze. We can come up with the Whacko McNutjob persona.
The fact of the dreams and their recall are, at least to me, real. My speculation is that they are not “common or garden”.
This does not require the invocation of significance. I am just some bloke who happens to dream a lot. No biggie…
Provided that they are not significant there is no wider problem or issue.
If however we invoke, even tentatively, a putative wider significance, a gamut of implications might surface. A similarity to mystical vision and quasi-religious imagery can be drawn. In some circles that is significant in terms of context and perhaps faith. The follow on question might be, “why does someone who, was for a short while, deep in the UK based science community have such phenomena?”. This community being the self-assigned debunker of myths and pseudoscience. “Bah!!”
One could say that weird stuff happens, end of story. It / he is just an anomaly.
The easiest hypothesis is that the hundreds of dreams archived here are all “just some shit that I made up”. The follow on to this is that I must therefore have at least some imagination and persistent inventiveness. One could counter with the deep philosophical argument, “you just can’t make shit like this up!” I am not sure as to what the motive might be for this inventiveness though others could speculate freely. Maybe I am simply an attention seeker. Maybe it is all some big game to make people question the extent and wider applicability of their self-diagnosed omniscience.
For me it is just habit. If I have a dream which I can recall and am lucid in, when I get up of a morning, I type it up in Word. I sometimes make a short note on a post it before typing. There are close to 100 dreams in 2025.
I personally have no strong need to pick an explanation and have that as a definite. A part of the art of dreaming is to enjoy the unknown and the partially or poorly explained.
I can see multiple implications which will almost certainly never manifest. Life circumstance does not support these weekly possible trajectories. There is nothing I can do about it.
I could say something groovy…
The coalescence of the dreaming onto and into the physical plane is not easy. Surprisingly little, though nascent in dreaming, makes it through into the “agreed” and “shared” physical plane realties.
He is just a feckless dreamer, head in the clouds…
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Each of us make our own versions of reality not all of which are entirely apt.
Post Anaesthesia – Insomnia – UK Shenanigans – US Security Services Dream 02-12-2025
Still struggling to get a decent night’s seep. I am on a protocol of Zopiclone and 500/30 paracetamol codeine before bed. I have long been aware that my per kilogram body mass ability to handle alcohol and cannabis was at the higher end of the spectrum. I can still function when others might not. The attempts to sleep might be hindered by a state of “vigilance” and I am building up a psychological conditioning in which I do not want to try to go to bed. This is not healthy. In the “pharmacy” there are a number of synthetic and non-synthetic “narcotics” which I might use. At the moment the dosage is minimal, a maximum of 60mg codeine a night. This sleeping is clearly the thing I want to ameliorate now.
The morning’s dreams are in two segments. The first I would characterise as very boring and very old hat. Yawn.
The scene opens in UK research council offices. People known to me from the late eighties, the nineties and early two thousands. The people are exclusively London and South East based are conspiring amongst themselves about me. They, whilst pretending to be my friends, are undermining me and otherwise plotting and whispering amongst themselves. They have a fear of being found out and exposed. They are stuck and badly so. At the time they thought that the plotting was clever even cunning. They are now less convinced of this and far less amused by it. They are worried. In the dream they imagine they can interact with me in the same way as they once did. They are arrogant and complacent. They have no idea of the extent to which I have changed. In the dream I am bored that the same old shit is again being presented. I know that what they may deem important is ultra petty and trivial to me.
I awake it is around 6 AM. I have a loo break going back to bed assuming that I will not sleep.
The wife and I are walking through an airport. We have already cleared customs and border check. It is a huge airport in America. {Query Denver} There are shops and food concessions on either side. The wife pops into a shop. I continue along the corridor and a tall woman in dark navy cop like uniform stops me. She has immaculately ironed grey trousers and a paramilitary shirt. She is armed and has her long black hair in a tight pony-tail. She addresses me by name, “Dr Taylor can we have a word with you in private?”
“Yes, what about my wife?”
“My colleague will look after her. You are not being detained, we would just like a word.”
She ushers us off through an identity pass on lanyard secure door and into what looks like a high technology operations room. She ushers me down the corridor into a glass walled cubicle / office. All the while she is chatting with me in an accomplished and highly skilled manner. She is a pleasure to be with. She has a mild west coast accent and is very high functioning. I can tell that they are taking multiple images of me and she asks if I would mind giving a blood sample. I have nothing to hide.
I say that she is not what she at first seems to be and is probably secret service. She agrees that she is. I ask her if I can have a look at my file. She says that she cannot think of a reason why not and pulls up a chair her side of the desk. She shows me image after image of me reaching back decades. There are some from Tokyo some from Santa Clara and even some from Brittany France. I comment that they have been busy. She says with some pride that this is what they do. I ask her if there is anything else she wants to know. No. She looks at my passport and identity card, scans them. She gives me another card which is of US origin. It is for me to use, if needed, during our stay. It is high end official. If in doubt just show this card.
She then ushers me back to the main terminal where the wife is waiting. The wife asks and I say that US secret service have just taken a blood sample and have had me under surveillance for a very long time.
The dream ends and I gingerly role over onto my back. It is a little after 7 AM.
Disruptive Technology – Legal Threat – Entrepreneurship Dream – 29-11-2025
Here is this morning’s dream had between 6.36 and 7.39 AM. I had changed my pain killer regime to co-codamol and managed to have the first half-decent night’s sleep since the hip operation a week ago. This seems totally out of the blue.
The dream opens in a steeply banked auditorium of a high end spa type posh conference centre. The room is filled with people for an open panel discussion quasi “Chatham House”. The participants are multinational and largely men. There is a mix of suits, entrepreneurs and scientists. The average age is significantly lower than me, 30-40s. The conference centre is perched on a river valley wall some height up from the river. It is European possibly Scottish, mountainous or hilly. I know that the fishing in the river for salmon is good. On the screen at the front of the hall is a projection with the headline “Disruptive Technologies” and the tag line “Threats and Opportunities”.
I am sat to the back of the auditorium high up near the fire exit on the right hand side when viewing the screen. To the bottom left near the from there is a gaggle of people known to each other. One of them is surveying the audience and taking notes of who is attending. He catches my eye and I his. He does not recognise me and he turns to an older colleague. He too looks at me and they have a brief discussion. The older man recognises me.
As the session finishes the audience files out from the bottom left. A dark haired man with well parted hair comes up towards me. He is wearing a very expensive English tailored overcoat in wool or cashmere. It has black lapels. He is carrying a small leather wallet style brief case. He offers me his card in a posh clipped English accent. It is a small high class card with raised embossed name Lamour or Lamor written upon. In much smaller font is “& associates” together with a central London address. He belongs to a high-end high-net worth client legal practice. I am surprised as to why he has approached me. He says that “we noted you in the audience”. He goes on to inquire as to why I am there, what I am doing and what projects I have in the pipeline. I say that I do not know why I am there and that I have nothing whatsoever going on. He goes on to say that “we” will resist anything you try to do and put obstacles in the way. There is a sense of “establishment” possible government behind him. The “We” is English. I ask him if he is threatening me. He says that it is up to me how I view this but I could choose to view this in that way should I choose.
A bit flummoxed by this I decide to try to find out what is going on. I leave the hotel and note a small incubator business office space perched upon a bridge over the river. I arrange a rent free loan of an office and go down under the bridge. I meet As. I say to him that I need to show him something. Under the bridge and among the renovation is an old public urinal. I say to As that this is where my grandfather (Harry) told me that he had won the lottery. We go back to rental office. News has gotten around the incubator that I have “rented” office space. The incubator is affiliated to a local university. They ask if they can announce my arrival in their weekly magazine / gazette. I say that I would rather not be public and playing along with the context I say that I would prefer to be submarine for the time being. The facilities manager comes in. She says that they may experience some external pressure. I say that I have already noted an alternate supply of energy and water. I take her down to the under bridge toilet and say that I can tap water and electricity from there. I show her the urinal and say that this is where my grandfather told me he had won the lottery. Despite my asking I can see that my arrival has been leaked in the online gazette.
As is keen to get started and I say first we need a “Photonics Buyer’s Guide” and a rundown of the latest VC photonics deals. We try to source these and place them on the shelves in the office. I decide to do a background search on the legal firm “Lamour” my guess is that there will be little available. It is a word of mouth kind of outfit.
I am back in an hotel room with the facilities manager and As. Our hotel is more like a hiking bunkhouse and we are all in sleeping bags on one “shelf”. The facilities manger comes over for a hug and then goes back to her bag. As does too and we hug bare chest to bare chest. He draws strength and comfort and says that whatever it is I need him to do he will do it. He is glad to have found me again. He goes back to his sleeping bag and the light in the room fades.
I think to myself that was weird. “Why would a bunch of posh suits be interested in what I am doing?”
The dream ends.
Footnote : the geezer in the overcoat has some similarity to Marc Rubio.
Reset – Peaceful Warrior – Healing Dream 27-11-2025
Here is this morning’s dream had after a bit of OxyNormORO morphine to help with pain. From around 5 AM. Prior to the dream I have been contemplating on what the post-operative reset might be like. What was going on before the operation is distant and what may lay ahead is unclear. I am half anticipating a complete reset / rescale.
The dream starts with me wandering around Brixton London where I used to live. I bump into Ben G whom I have not seen for more than 25 years. He is dressed in a suit and looks stressed out and busy. I suggest that we go into the pub {Prince of Wales} opposite the Ritzy cinema. {I did in fact bang into him around here many years ago}. We go in and start having a chat. He starts to thank me for the help and caring I gave in the past. He says that some of the things I said to him have stood him in good stead during times of trouble. I say that I have a good idea of the book that will help him now. It is “The Peaceful Warrior” by Dan Milman. * I say that I will meet him for coffee later in the week near where he works in the city and bring the book for him. He is pleased to have re-made acquaintance as am I.
The scene changes and I am heading up Brixton hill to a multiple occupancy building like my old flat. I open the front door and the scene is chaotic with multiple people coming and going there. There are two women reminiscent of people from Science outreach, Melanie and Jody. As usual they are “all over the shop”. They want to show me how they have renovated the building. We go into various flats and I politely say “um, yes that is nice”. We go back into my flat and they want to make an appointment to meet later on. I say that I cannot that I am ill, I think it might be pneumonia. They don’t hear nor understand how ill I am. I shoo them off with a promise to call.
I go back into my “flat” it is largely not unpacked. Stuff is in boxes. In the garden out back there is a pond / open water swimming pool. I meet Russell Crowe there and we are sat chatting in the water. He says that he is struggling with his alcohol problems. I say that I have not drunk in near a year and that is was a never a problem for me in the usual way. For me it was all about boredom. He does not believe me. We sit there for a while enjoying the summer sunset.
I go back to my flat and start to look for the telephone number for the GP. I can’t find my address book. I am pretty sure that the Brixton Hill practice will have a number on line. I am reminded of Dr “Depardieu” who helped me in the mid-90s. I find the number and call for an appointment. I am resolved to take some time out just for myself and let everybody else deal with their own worries.
The dream ends
* In “The Peaceful Warrior” which was a gateway book for me, Dan an arrogant Berkley gymnast bumps into a spiritual mentor “Socrates” who tries to get him to be real and to “take out the trash”. Dan being a bit of a bellend ends up crashing his motor cycle and badly fracturing his leg. Dan goes through an intensive recovery which tests his mettle and ends up competing at the highest level. Dan has to overcome his self-importance and impatience.
Anaesthetic Recovery Room – Tibetan Temple Dream 21-11-2025
Here is Friday’s dream had around 14:00 – 15:00 hours CET time as I transferred out of operating theatre after hip replacement surgery and into the post operative recovery room.
I had the distinct sensation of being in a Tibetan style temple at a monastery or other religious centre. The inside of the building consists of a main chamber and a smaller “sanctum” or “sanctuary” at the back. The main building has mats on either side of and aisle leading up towards the sanctum. The floor level in the sanctum is higher than the main building. The ceiling is lower. The “wall” going down from the higher main building ceiling to that of the sanctum is very white. It is decorated in whirling relief design top and bottom. The designs form a row at the top and bottom of the partition. There is a sense that they are or have been golden. The craftsmanship is exquisite. For a Tibetan themed place, it is surprisingly light and airy.
Sat in rows either side of the aisle in the main building are monks in largely magenta robes. There are around twenty of them all special invitees. They are roughly equally spaced either side of the aisle.
In the sanctum there are two raised boxes / benches aligned perpendicular to the monk’s rows. These boxes are higher and decorated in fancy cloths or hangings. Looking into the sanctum are three monastics sat to the left and three people to the right. The one on the right furthest from the main room is me. Everyone else is wearing Buddhist ceremonial hats, yellow. I alone have no headgear. I understand the others to be high lamas. I am dressed in magenta robes.
At the back of the sanctum facing out into the main building is an even higher box / throne upon which is sat a chunky Tibetan man in more yellow / gold robes with the yellow ceremonial Gelug hat. He is younger than me. His robes are brocade and he is Karmapa. I am closest to Karmapa.
There is incense in the air and chanting. I know it to be of Tibetan flavour because of “benza” as in “om benza pani hung” the chanting also has heart sutra, guru Rinpoche and medicine buddha to go with the Vajrapani. The “Benza” is very distinctive. The medicine buddha is for me.
As I come to, I expect to find myself in the temple but am actually in a high specification operating theatre recovery room with lots of kit and women younger than me in blue scrubs. I am disoriented and genuinely surprised. It takes a while to adjust.
The experience fades into normal post operative routines.
Dreamyoga 