Unexploded Karmic Bombs Dream 28-02-23.

Here is the most vivid segment of last night’s dream.

I know that the dream is set in England, it is in London, the home counties and Cambridgeshire. In the dream the lighting of the gardens is pink-yellow and of the in between. I cannot be sure if it is dawn or dusk, nor if the light has been altered by Saharan sand in the air.

In the dream I am indoors looking out onto successive back gardens which vary in size and composition. I am moving between gardens and viewpoints.  In London, I see in a number of different gardens, small bombs fall from the sky, one or two per garden. They land tail fin up and I know that these bombs are karmic bombs, which will detonate one day. The karma will then be irrevocably released.

The same pattern is repeated for several gardens which I know to be in the home counties close to London. The bombs are of varying sizes, some big and others quite small. The scene moves on to a bigger garden which I know to be in Cambridgeshire. Here again bombs fall from the sky and implant in the earth. They are of varying size and one of them, which is ticking, is quite large.

I know in the dream that people do not believe in karmic bombs and as a consequence they will not take any action to address karma which they think may not manifest. People think that they have gotten away with it. I know in the dream that this attitude is a very grave mistake. There are more karmic bombs to fall from the sky.

Dream ends…

Imperial College Office – Explanations Dream 21-01-2025

Here is last night’s dream. I can think of no reason on this side of the channel for why I had this dream.

The dream starts in my old office in the Department of Chemistry, Imperial College, South Kensington Campus of nearly twenty years ago. Word has gotten round that I am leaving. Several of my colleagues come into the office, they are in a jocular, non-serious mood. They are not aware that I mean business and am not bluffing or negotiating.

I say to them that I do not believe that they can conceptualize the notion of me quitting without pressure or reward. They don’t get that I am doing the opposite of what most people are trying to do, namely, to secure their position and job. They think that I have gone mental, and have mental health problems, that I have somehow lost the plot.

I say that mentality divergence and novel behaviours are often misunderstood and frowned upon. I know that it is a complete non sequitur for them.

I say that acts of renunciation are Christian or monastic behaviours. They look dumfounded. I say that I may be prone to such things.

I say besides I have my book of dreams which I use to guide my life. There are hundreds of dreams. One of them says that he too has dreams and that he understands.

I say take me to human resources and I will sign the document now. We get up and move. At the door I pause and say maybe it might be better to wait until after the weekend to finalise because I have not yet told the wife.

The dream ends and I think that this was out of the blue and weird for something that old.

Montgomery Farm – Intelligence Service – Handcuff Dream 07-03-2020

I am somehow viewing our old house in Surrey, Montgomery’s Farm. I can see our landlord he is being interviewed by several official looking people concerning me. He says, “As far as I know they were polite, well behaved and generally liked. Then one day they pretty much upped sticks and disappeared. Nobody knew they were planning to do this !!”

I look down and see that our landlord has with him a dog with two heads.

Later...

I am, for whatever reason, staying in a large country house, a mansion with reddish bricks and very grand. It looks out across open fields and a valley. I can see woodland on the side of the hill on the far side of the valley. The house is set in the UK.

I am in the kitchen cooking a ratatouille style dish with courgettes and tomatoes. Two men and a woman arrive at the door. The men are wearing long trench coats in beige. Someone ushers them in to the kitchen and they start talking to me while I am cooking. They are asking me how come I am here. To which I reply that there is no simple answer. The men say that they are officials and have the right to know.

Pretty soon two other people turn up dressed smartly and with them are uniformed police. There is one of them who is the leader and he is from the Intelligence Services. They come into the kitchen and the tone gets more severe. I put some prawns in the pan. The leader says that security are going to restrain me. A policeman comes forward and handcuffs me. He attaches the other end of the handcuffs to a four poster bed. The woman comes with me bringing my pan and sits with me on the bed. They allow me to eat and I share some of my meal with the woman. I note that the prawns are not fully cooked. I ask her what her role in this. She is a police medical officer and may assess me.

I say to her that I need a piss. The policeman undoes my cuff from the bed and cuffs me to the female medical officer. She is now wearing a very blue dress which was hidden below her coat. I note that she will “stand out” in thew gents toilets. She is unfazed. We then (somehow) enter some gents toilets. It is busy and all the cubicles are taken. I am wearing a white t-shirt and around my middle, sarong style, is a white towel.

I go over to a long metal urinal and let the towel fall. I take a piss without using my hands with the woman stood next to me. It is a bit splashy. I then bend down to pick up the towel which I, with her assistance, wrap around my waist.

We go back to the room with the four poster bed and I am again attached. The woman suggests that I am going to be transferred. I will need some trousers. These are bought for me and I wear them.

The “intelligence” leader comes over and starts to ask me questions. His tone is combative and suspicious. He is asking me about various transfers of money and companies held in my name. I have absolutely no idea what he is talking about. It becomes clear that they are trying to frame me for some fraud so that they can take me back. The demeanour of the woman changes from sympathetic to cold.

They move over to one side of the room to chat in a huddle. I lift my hands up and when I bring them down the cuffs have vanished. Nobody notices. I can see some double swing doors, lab style, which lead into the back corridors of The Royal Institution.

I guess that if I can make it through the doors, I will be able to lose them in the labyrinthine corridors which I know well.

I start to move towards the doors and pass a side room. I glance in and the woman is now dressed in medical scrubs. She is operating on someone on a table. She sees me and raises the alarm. I make a dash for it and get through the double doors.

Several men start chasing me and someone is pushing a trolley down the corridor with chemicals on. I hurdle the trolley and head off down the corridor. The trolley stops, temporarily, my pursuers. They continue after me. One of them is wearing a full face shield and ventilator. I know there is no danger but he is afraid of the chemicals. I shout to him that there is no need and that it is safe.

I continue on and they chase me. We come to a dead end room. I am cornered. I see some blue foam pipe insulation several feet long. It is very soft and flexible. As they approach, I hit them on the head with it, in turn. It does no harm but appears to comedically stop them in their tracks.

The dream ends and I awake needing a piss.

  • I am about to cook ratatouille for dinner. Let’s hope I am not interrupted!! 😊

Tibet / Nepal / Katmandu – Being Shot – .99 Calibre Dream 02-08-2018

I am waiting at a train station to get a train up to the top of a mountain in darkness. The idea is to get the train up during the night and then walk down as darkness yields to dawn. The train station has an “Indian-Asian” flavour but is old school. There is a lot of hustle and bustle. The word comes that at last the train is ready. We all board the train and it chugs off, windows open, up the mountain. We are at sea level and the mountain train stop is at 3600m.

When we get there to the top it is like Nepal / Katmandu / Tibet. There are many “hippie” tourists here and what “we” are about to do is a part of THE “trail”. In my mind I wonder if I will be recognised by people at the top.

“We” set off down the hill past a small blue lake where there are Buddhist monks meditating and they bless us as is their custom. We continue on the trail down the hill as darkness continues to fade and dawn comes in. It is a long hike down.

Next, I am with a tall thin blonde woman with curly hair whom I do not recognise. We are in “Katmandu” or a town like it with many tourist “hippie” shops and hawkers. One of these latches on to the woman and I try to dissuade him. He draws a knife as if to attack. I disarm him and he runs off very displeased and very angry with me.

Sometime later the “air-raid” siren goes off and people are sheltering. I find myself a niche in the stone and lay down with my bag over my head. I remove this as there does not seem to be any attack. The man from earlier is now standing over me with a pistol. He shoots me in the left leg which stings a great deal. He says that he might kill me. I start to ask him why and move to get up. He shoots me again lower down my leg. I cry out for help. The police come running and he runs off. The “Indian” policeman says that I have been shot twice with a .99 calibre weapon.

Strangely despite this I am able to walk / limp.

Later the man finds me again and asks me if the blonde woman is my fiancée. I say that we have never met. He intimates that he will get even with me by getting at her. I tell him that before “yesterday” I had never met the woman.

He is doing a drug deal and wants me to skin up with his hashish. I attempt this but fail. The police then come and he runs off. His idea was that I am caught in possession of hashish. I throw this down a street drain. The police are not concerned about me rather the man who set me up.

“Wolfgang” is there and we are discussing how thing are very different at 3600m. He says, as he has done previously, that people are and have been gossiping about me.

Outside of town the lake has now frozen. The idea now is to ski down the mountain. Given my injured leg I am unsure about this. So, I try to ski / skate on the frozen lake which is covered in snow. I can do this easily. I am able to make turns on the ski-skate rink which in the dream I find highly enjoyable shouting, “Yaaaay”….

I wake up and the dream ends.

—————–

* 9 is the jewel of awareness completion

3 + 6 = 9

9 + 9 =18

18 is the jewel of awareness courage.

Ashram-Retreat Centre – Dolphins – Dream 21-02-18

I arrive at a large building on multiple levels which backs directly onto the sea. The shore is rocky but not too step. It has many rooms which are like warm rounded caves and are decked out in “ethnic” fabrics and furniture.

Soon various people start arriving. They are of all ages and some with children. The rooms are all open, without doors, yet still afford some privacy, they feed into one another. This is to be the retreat centre it has an ethos of non-denominational, discursive-ness and openness. It is to be themed around dreaming. There is a slight yet noticeable “hippie” vibe. Whilst it is not yet an Ashram, it has the potential so to be.

People are gathering around, and we are expecting a visit from a lama Y. together with his entourage. They tip up and take the tour. We are sat in one of the larger rooms and I show him an “ethnic” carved figure of a deer. He comments that although it is pretty the workmanship is not so good. I have sourced it at a local shop. After this I go to the shop and the owner agrees that the workmanship isn’t high quality. He says that he will send it back to his supplier and replace it for me. He thanks me for bringing it to his attention.

As lama Y. is leaving, he asks me what it is all about.

I say, “Dreaming is dreaming, and it will work itself out.”

From the house we can see all the children playing in the glass-sided infinity pool which is tidal.

I go down to the inlet by the sea. There we can see fish swimming in the creek. We can discern amongst them 3-4 dolphins. This causes much excitement. I whistle to the dolphins and they swim in closer to us. When one of the dolphins gets close it morphs into a dolphin-man. He gets out of the water and onto the stone jetty we are sitting on. He says, “Praxes” and I ask him if he is Greek. He replies in perfect English that he is and that he and his friends run a local taxi business.

I ask him for some business cards which we can put up on the notice board for the guests. He hands me some of these and then dives back into the water. The dolphins swim off.

Two Americans have come to visit, they are a female and a male. The woman has a “hippie” vibe and the man is an astronaut with short hair.  He is unconvinced. He proceeds to wander off to check out the organisation, sceptical.

Dressed now in my yukata I ask the woman if they need some sunscreen. It can be deceptive around here, the amount of sun. The woman thanks me but does not think it is needed. I say that the offer remains open.    

Back now in the main room of the centre many of us are gathered. We look out to the sea and cannot tell if the tide is out or not. I say that we need to install a tidal monitor, which I will do later.

Now we have to decide more about the retreat centre, what it will do and how it will work.

Dream ends

——————

praxis (ˈpræksɪs)

n, pl praxises or praxes (ˈpræksiːz)

1. (Education) the practice and practical side of a profession or field of study, as opposed to the theory

2. (Education) a practical exercise

3. accepted practice or custom

[C16: via Medieval Latin from Greek: deed, action, from prassein to do]

————–

  • There is an implicit question as to whether I want to form / found an Ashram.

Brocade Book – Occult – Dream 8-9-16

Here is last night’s dream

I am in some kind of mansion or Chateau. The rooms are dimly lit by candles and gaslight. The furniture is period. The walls are dressed in curtain like hangings stretching floor to ceiling. The colour is a boudoir red / purple. There is a sense of fading Victorian even tsarist grandeur. In the distance I can hear a social function, a party. There are harpsichords playing, laughter and chatter. I wander around the room; it is well-kept but overly opulent and not to my liking. I walk past a table, with ornate carved legs and I trail my hand along the tabletop.

Next, I am in an ultra-modern museum which has a Germanic or Swiss feel. It is somehow on top of a mountain and very high up. The museum is minimalist. There are only a very few glass cabinets. They contain artefacts in gold and other metals. Each has a slip of paper in the cabinet with a date and a small explanation. Many of the artefacts are oriental, Buddhist and relate way back. They are very precious, and security is high. I come upon a case; it appears to be empty. In the case is a slip of white paper saying Dr A.G.Taylor and a list of the universities that he worked at. There is no date. I get excited and go to find the curator. I say to her that this is me…can I have look at what is in the exhibit? She puts on her white gloves and with a golden key attached to her neck chain she opens the drawer below the exhibit case. She pulls out a book, a much valued manuscript. It is kept out of sight to preserve it. It is about standard book size. The book has a cover, even a cage, of the finest golden filigree brocade, exquisitely carved and put together. It is in raised almost moving relief. The cover of the book is white and although not glossy it somehow shines. The whole thing shines and glows. It is radiant. She makes me put on white gloves and hands it to me. I marvel at the book and open it. Both she and I know that it is I who wrote this book.

The scene changes to another room deep in the vaults of the museum. It is where all the treasures are kept. The floor is of white marble and the room has two levels split by a small half staircase. At the staircase are wall length curtains held back by a fancy golden coloured tie. The curtains are of luxuriant red with a yellow gold coloured backing. I wander through the room looking at the artefacts. Many are to do with magic of both light and dark varieties. I instinctively know which is which and what they are for. As I wander through the room, I get the sensation of something, some being, watching me. I know that it is not benign. So, I “swell up” and fill myself with energy. I open my hands so as to distribute {if needed} and say out loud. “I know you are there, show yourself!!” It is an occult command of very high order. The curtains at the stair flutter in the breeze and I know that whatever it was, it has gone.

The dream ends. I know that it is highly significant. I pause to recollect and store it. I go back to sleep.

On typing today the word Grimoire popped into mind.

Four Dragons – Wheel of Fortune – Dream 30-08-2016

Here is this morning’s dream, a birth-day dream…

I am looking at an antique wooden wheel of fortune against a background wall. The wheel has stopped and it has a pointer facing East. At the four cardinal directions are arranged four dragons. They are small and intricate and somehow alive. Their nature is consistent with their name. The pointer faces the Fire dragon. In the dream I know that the dragons going N,E,S,W should be Earth, Wood, Water, Fire. Yet somehow the wheel has stopped with the Fire dragon in the East. I reach out and pluck the Fire dragon off the wall / wheel.. I put the dragon in my pocket.

“You may use the Fire dragon now. Although you were born a Wood dragon and your predilection is for the Water dragon, you may use the Fire dragon now. You own all the dragons…and can use them at will.”

Implicit is that the Blue Dragon, the Red Dragon and the Golden Dragon are also “mine” and available to me.

Dream ends.

Subsequently the image of Tarot 10, impeccability, La Roue de Fortune, springs to mind.

Glowing Skelton – Third Universe – Dream 17-11-2012

Here are some excerpts from what was a lengthy dreaming sequence.

Against a dark backdrop I see an image of myself. I am superimposed upon a glowing skeleton which has pink, fluorescent blood vessels. It is living. The two images or my normal body and the skeleton pulse back and forth in precedence. I am become death the destroyer of worlds.

In the dream I wonder if this is a harbinger of my own death. It is not it has only symbolic value…

—-

I know that the world of this dream in an intermediate world between life and death.

I am shown three worlds as three circles / spheres and written upon each world in vivid dripping pink lettering are the following:

The world of starving Spirits

The world of the Hungry Ghosts

The world of the in between.

I know in the dream that this current universe is the third manifested universe and to understand the true nature of Bardo and karma I will need to expand my consciousness so that it can stretch backwards to the times of previous universal manifestations. This will be a part of my training.

—————–

  • Sometimes the nagal or spirit is seen as a luminous pinks shade.

This from 18th May 2012 was more of a vision and seems related to this so I have appended it here:

I see a scene with four “men” dressed in different pastel-coloured robes breaking through into consciousness. They are “pastel” blue, pink, yellow and white, which are mildly and softly radiant.

They are waiting for me on the beach. Their facial features are not easily discernible. They are the four Lords of Karma, the Lipika Lords.

Senzar Shower Dream 5-2-2012

This dream excerpt is part of a longer dream which starts in the foyer between Chemistry and Biochemistry at Imperial College in South Kensington. The dream gets increasingly less mundane and leads to this. This excerpt although brief in description was very long in “duration”.

I am now in a square room. It is very grand and ornate. I look up at the ceiling and the pattern there changes into hieroglyphs which detach from it and hang suspended in three dimensions. They are shimmering and in gold. I spend a great deal of time looking at these. I know them to be the senzar “alphabet”. I am caught in a kind of light beam, a kind of shower. These ideograms rain down upon me. I have the senzar falling into me. I now know the senzar and that it is a part of me.

Dream ends

Flying – Erice – Cross Pattée Gules {Templar} – 01-09-2012

In the write up to this dream I have referred to a Maltese cross. However, the sketch is of a Cross Pattée Gules or Templar cross.

I am flying above the earth soaring over landscapes. I am above Erice in Sicily and fly over the landscape there. I can see the bays and mountains. In the distance I can see a cross superimposed on the mountains. I can see the cross above Rio De Janeiro. I fly over to it and see the statue of Christ the Redeemer. I can see the details of its construction.

I continue flying and come to a rocky outcrop at the top of a mountain. I stand there at the top of a cliff and look down to the sea below. It is a long way down. I sense vertigo.

Again and again, I fly to this place, embossed in the stone is a Maltese {actually Templar} cross.

 I see the image both in stone and coloured red. The flight to this place and the cross repeats multiple times.

There is an inscription in Latin around the cross. I stand beside, view and contemplate.

A coloured tunnel opens in the dreamscape and I am taken through it from the scene direct to my bed.

Dream ends


I have / had tremendous déjà vu at both Erice and Malta. I felt instantly at home in either place.

My hypothesis is that this stems from two lifetimes ago when I was a Christian priest / warrior.


“Contrary to popular belief, when Hugues de Payns and his eight companions founded the Order of the Temple in 1118, they were not wearing this cross. They wore only a white cloak, a symbol of purity and light. This distinguished them from the other Crusader knights, all of whom wore a cloth cross sewn onto their clothing, in a different colour depending on their origin. The French wore a red cross, the English a white one, the Flemish and Germans a green (or later a black) one, the Italians a yellow one and the Angevins a light green one.

It was not until 1147, eleven years after the death of Hugues de Payns, that Pope Eugene III granted the Knights Templar the privilege of wearing the Cross of Gules (red) on their clothing, the colour of which recalled the blood they had shed in defence of the Holy Land. The colour red was also a reminder of the Order’s French origins, since the red cross was, as we have seen, the mark of the French Crusaders.”

Excerpted from:

https://www.nos-colonnes.com/en/blogs/our-items/significance-and-origin-of-the-templar-cross