Emmanuel Macron – Medical – Job – Teotihuacán – Dream 22-12-23 repost

Here is this morning’s totally out of the blue dream.

The wife and I are staying in a temporary apartment. It is well finished and on an upper floor. It is in a city in a posh neighbourhood. There is a buzz on the intercom and I go to answer it.

“The car is here for you now, sir!”

I go downstairs and am driven to another posh looking building. It is of a Parisian style. I am ushered into a very elegant hall with highly veneered wooden panelling and elegant curtains. The style is palatial. I am standing there examining the beauty of the room.

In walks Emmanuel Macron. He is suited and booted. He walks over to me, shakes my hand, and puts his left arm on my shoulder. He speaks to me in English and ushers me through a disguised door in the panelling.

We are now in pitch black. I say that we need some light. A switch flicks. A bright white light comes on.

I can see that Macron has a large pair of callipers and is measuring the size of my head.

In front of me is a high technology medical examination room. There are an array of doctors wearing white coats. The head doctor says to the others that they must now assess every aspect of my physical health. They will need to know every detail including things like alcohol consumption and food preference. There is much muttering.

A tall smartly dressed older woman who is not a doctor comes over to me. The callipers have vanished. I can see from the way that she and Macron are interacting that they know each other well and he trusts her.

She asks me why I applied for the job as driver / adviser.

I say that I was not aware that I had.

She asks me if I think I could work with Macron.

I say that from what I have seen of him on the TV I like his character and approach so yes.

This seems to please Macron.

We are now standing by an immaculate piece of cabinet making. On it is a souvenir of Teotihuacán. The photo card has an image of all the temple complex buildings. Attached to each building is a precious or semi-precious stone.

Macron asks me who the best emperor of Teotihuacán was.

I say it has been wiped from my mind. There was a time when I was fascinated by all things South American. I knew them all.

He smiles and says that one of the perks of the job is that people give you interesting and thought provoking presents.

The medics have arranged a series of appointments for me.

A tall young woman with blonde hair in a pastel blue suit comes into the room. She goes over to the human resources woman. Apparently, the younger woman is to be my liaison.

Macron comes with me back to the apartment. Now the car is his limousine.

He comes up in the lift with me and opens the door to the apartment. He ushers me in. There is an understanding that we will meet again soon.

The wife is asleep on the couch under a blanket.

As the door closes, she wakes up.

I say to her that she is unlikely to believe what has just happened.

Dream ends.

St Germain – Imperial – Baby – Macron Dream 04-04-24.

Here is last night’s sequence following on from days of poor internet connectivity and the end of the Human immobilier house sale mandate.

A little after midnight I am awoken to a swirling orange-yellow-red visual vortex of tremendous brightness and clarity. Something is stirring the web of life and significantly so. I relax into they visual field certain that it is benign for me and in no way threatening.

I drift off to sleep and see a vison of Rákóczi, Count Saint Germain floating in space. He presents as two alternating figures. One of darker hair than the other. He is familiar and the visual representation is much as it has always been. It is clear that he is up to something and that this pertains somehow to me. We share a mind space for a length of time and it is evident that he will be “around” for a while over the near few days.

I wake up.

I doze off.

I am talking with a young dark haired woman who has somehow just been created by Saint Germain.  She is heavily built and wearing blue jeans she speaks English with a feint European accent.  She wants to talk about science. She is going to be attending the centre for biological education in London, at Imperial College. I tell her that I am familiar with it.

The scene changes and I can see I. He is concerned about the goings on and on the steps outside the old Chemistry department going in.

I am now “there” with the dark haired woman and L. I explain to the dark haired woman that my erstwhile business partner and the best man at my first wedding was the son of a Nobel Laureate. L had no idea about the latter and looks surprised. I am given a broken semiconductor circuit board in which there are four different components shaped like diamonds placed face to face. They are falling out of the board and they ask me to look at it.

The scene changes and I can see reports of a research grant and associated accounts. They are full of discrepancies and subject to a formal investigation. It is D who is under investigation for fraud. I see an image of him concerned about the investigation.

The scene shifts back and the circuit board is literally falling apart. I start to look at the components under a microscope and can see that it has been poorly manufactured. Rushed. I then see floating in space a fake cut diamond made of glass that has several bubble like imperfections. It is flawed, imperfect and not for real.

I wake.

I drift off.

I can see on a large white sheeted bed a young baby in a white nappy. It is without hair and blue eyed. It is lying on its back and whimpering slightly. I am wearing white loose fitting trousers, no shirt, or socks. I lay on the bed and cradle the baby in the crook of my right arm. It presses itself against my chest and I kiss it gently on the forehead.

I wake.

The wife goes to the loo; she snuggles sup saying that I am hot. I kiss her gently on the forehead.

She rolls over and I drift off.

There is a very persistent vison of Emmanuel Macron which lasts quite a while. I understand that Macron is somehow linked to the baby.

I wake.

I build a new electric blue protection dome because it won’t be penetrated by visitors for a while.

I drift off.

I am now with a skinny young woman. We are in a room which is a complete and utter mess. She is talking very fast at me. I grab her by her hips and throw her onto a sofa. I have had enough and she shuts up.

I am outside with a couple of men we are trying to shift a blue portable toilet from the second floor of a barn. I push it a little and it falls backward off the risen floor and smashes on the ground. Job done. We can clear it up with a tractor later.

I am back in the room and the woman is acting all “poor me”. It is a complete shit tip. There is mess and leaves everywhere. The carpet is threadbare.

“You wouldn’t hurt me, would you? Besides I am pregnant.” She says.

“K, even if you are pregnant which I deem unlikely. It is not my child and, in all likelihood, you are being, manipulative. This is your mess, you made it. Not me.!”

In the dream the woman is of a similar stature to K but it does not resemble her. The feel is similar.

Dreaming sequence ends…

Dual Colonoscopy Dream 21-12-2024

This is, for me, one of the weirdest dreams I have had, because it is so matter of fact and “normal”. The last time I had a medical themed “dream” was when I recalled seeing my laparoscopic colectomy from above. They were removing my T3 colon cancer. I was in theatre for around six hours and had an OBE. I speculated that I died briefly on the table. The after care in recovery for me seemed much more attentive than that for the others in the room. Before the dream I had a very strong visual / connection with someone I knew about 20 years ago whose surname is Colon.

The dream opens with me on an operating type of bed. I have a blue medical gown on with a hairnet. My knees are up towards my stomach and the gown is open at the back. I am lying on my right side and viewing a computer screen which shows my colon from the point of view of a colonoscope operator. They are withdrawing the instrument because this first attempt at a full colonoscopy has failed. They have decided to try a different instrument. The instrument is withdrawn. I observe this.

A nurse comes around to speak to my face. She tells me what is going on. She administers some sedative via the catheter in my arm. She tells me that they are going to give me a brief general anaesthetic. The doctor inserts the colonoscope and I can see it moving into the sigmoid colon and up towards the splenic flexure. The colon looks free of polyps and cancer. As he approaches the splenic flexure the nurse administers the general anaesthetic. I know from before that passing the flexure is the most uncomfortable part. I wait a few seconds. Then in the dream I can feel the anaesthesia come up and I become unconscious in the dream.

I wake up in the recovery room. In the dream I am puzzled as to why I am having this life like vivid experience of colonoscopy.

The dream ends.

On waking I make a note that maybe I should arrange to have my next colonoscopy early in the new year.

Omens and Symbols in the Waking Dream

One of the purposes of dream working with nocturnal dreams is to use the skills developed therein to read the waking dream, the day quotidian. Totems, omens and signs have been “read” by humanity for millennia. At the moment our current totem animal is a heron. He was present this morning at dawn and I have just seen him again as dusk nears. Places with a rich folklore like here in Brittany will have their own omen vocabulary.

To some interpreting the waking dream as a normal passive nocturnal dream sounds a bit odd. Nevertheless, I have done this for over two decades. The thing here is to use intuition and not rational mind. Not everything in the waking dream is a dreaming symbol or an omen. Things which casually catch your attention perhaps at the periphery of the visual field can be symbols.

Somethings demand full attention.

To give an example. At exactly the moment we stepped out of the door of the physiotherapist clinic my eye was drawn to seven crows in the sky. Instantly they broke into a group of three and one of four they cawed and flew off in opposite directions. There was a surge of “energy” and because crows are the courier of/to power in a universal sense, I had the sensation that power is up to something and some of it is of a divisive nature. Power is on the move.  7 is the dreaming symbol for guidance so the crows were guiding. 3 is the need for creativity and joy / mixed abundance, 4 is stability. More deeply three is the dreamer and four is the dreamed.

You could say that I noticed a glitch in the matrix. But this is life and not software.

Bear with me.

Cars are the dreaming symbol for state of awareness. Your car reflects your state of awareness. If you have a car crash or suddenly the radiator blows, your car is trying to tell you something and is informing you of how you are in life. Have a think about any time you have had a car crash. What was going on in your life at the time? Was there a crisis? Did a way of being / perceiving come crashing down or end suddenly? I’ll wager that if you had a car crash your life was out of balance and perhaps badly so at the time.

In order to best do this, you have to intend to observe dreaming symbols in “real” life. It is actually quite fun and you might be surprised what you learn. Insights beyond boring rationality and reason can be had.

At the moment I do not get many dreaming symbols because I do not need power, the universe, to guide me much. I am not interacting a great deal with life outside the compound.

One time I was in Belgium being interviewed for a Gallium Nitride MOVPE growth job at IMEC a semiconductor and nanotechnology research centre. There was someone in place and they were interviewing behind the scenes. We had inordinate difficulty finding the hotel in the Leuven one way system. The interview was a bit weird. I had a stonker of a dream. As we drove back without sat nav into Brussels, expecting some trouble finding the railway station and car hire place, I took a turn on intuition and ta-da we were at the railway station. It was an omen telling me to get out of Belgium. Power, the universe, was showing me the way, get out of Dodge. A few hours later whilst sight seeing before we took our train, HR called and told me that I did not get the job.

I am reasonably confident that because I have written this piece, I will be getting some dreaming symbols soon, in the waking dream. Let’s see if the prediction is accurate.

Today we have had our massive volet-shutters repaired, more light, and after visiting Orange yesterday we have an appointment for fibre optic broad band installation early next week!!

As the crows predicted, things have started to move.

Dreams and Life Changing Decisions

To be specific in what follows dreams refers to passive nocturnal dreaming, most often in the 4-7AM time frame. I am lucid in these dreams, knowing that I am dreaming, they are then either written by hand down in a journal on waking or typed into a word document.

The theory is that the reincarnating entity or dreamer selects a dreamed for each life in order to evolve, learn and thorough fulfilling a fate work at its destiny. The dreamed is the physical body or apparatus, its personality, weaknesses and abilities. In this context, I the dreamer, chose my parents, their circumstance and this lump of meat. Both my parents had a scientific leaning, it was fairly natural that I became a scientist of sorts. I was perhaps fated to study at a world top ten university, do my Ph.D. at a place with the world’s highest per capital Nobel prize density and later teach at another world top ten university in London, the capital of the UK. I am a trained chemical physicist.

In order to work with the theory above one has to literally follow, to the best of ability, what happens in dreams, even if that goes against “common sense”, plans and ambitions. The dreams may suggest things which you would prefer not to do and things which you do not like. This means that my orientation to life differs from the bulk of humanity. It may not sound too much but in practise it can be radical.  It would be very scary for someone prone to control freakery.

The dreamer tries to guide the dreamed towards the purpose of any given birth. The dreamer senses a destiny and needs to complete the fate for a chosen life. Fate being an integral over all karma.

People can play lip service to fate. They like to imagine that they are in control of their lives and that they direct life, that they can have life on their own terms.

At the moment I am fated to live outside society, physically adjunct. I got a new passport today. It has space for two emergency contacts. I was only able to fill one of them. I am not socially connected and that extent of disconnection is hard for most to comprehend or imagine. Few would believe how very little I use a mobile phone, despite the fact that I am reasonably computer literate.

I have made around six significant life changing decisions based on my interpretation of dream contents. Each one of these set off a sequence of events which were unexpected. I have had dreams which vastly altered my understanding of this current life. In making offerings after some of these dreams I have largely been ignored. A common theme in my dreams is that I will not be believed. I have rationalised this that I am fated not to be believed. It does not particularly bother me. That seems to be how it is.

There is “evidence” in my dreams of 7 or 8 previous incarnations, one of whom is a named historical figure. In most of these lives I have been associated with the “priesthood”. There is no way of proving this, I myself and inclined to believe this explanation. We have a pukka erstwhile ex-scientist believing something which would be for most of my ex-colleagues something of a stretch. It is a strange fate to find myself in this position and I do no know what if anything to do with it.

My interest in dreaming was rekindled by “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho.

For eight years I did a dreaming practice specifically to allow the dreamer, the Soul, to advise thence to take over the steering will of my mundane vehicle, the dreamed. I am a dreamer by predilection and in some arrangements, I am “in” the place of dreams the South. I lived as a child under the light of the Southern Cross. It is not too surprising that my dreaming is vivid and extensive.

Letting go of the steering wheel and handing it to my dreamer, the real me, was not easy.  However, retrospect suggests that the dreamer knew what it was doing because things unfolded. You need to have faith and courage to try this.

At the moment it looks as though there is not much complexity to my remaining fate. But one dream could alter all that dramatically…

It has happened before a sudden turn…

We shall see…

Toltec Baby Dream 9-5-18

Just found this one in the vaults, so to speak.

—–

Here is this morning’s dream:

I am at a US style motel and we go around the upper veranda to an upstairs room. Which we enter. I am with a younger man, taller than me, whom in everyday life I have not yet met. The room is deceptively spacious.

At one side there is a ceiling to floor curtain on the wall. This stands out and is noteworthy. I go to the curtain and peak behind it. I can see that behind it is a wall. I draw the curtain back and the wall starts to warp, bend and breathe. There is a sense that this wall is a portal.

Something is trying to come through the wall now that we have drawn the curtain. We stand back and a “hologram” baby starts to materialize. It is wearing diapers but is standing up. It is a bit big for a baby. It glows and shimmers and gives off light. I know that this is a / the Toltec baby.

With the baby is a remote control. By using the remote control, we can get the baby / hologram to play scenes for us. The scenes are numbered and can be repeated, seen again.

We watch a number of these scenes which are holo-projected out of the Toltec baby. I already know them all, but they are new to the younger man.

In scene three the younger man is to have a meeting with “don Juan”. He is to go through the portal and on the other side Juan will be waiting for him in the lobby of a swish hotel, all suited and booted. 

I get the younger man to replay the scene because it is for him specifically.

We then call down to reception for a suit. A room service man who is ultra-helpful comes up to the room with a suit which is the correct size for the younger man. He acts like a tailor’s assistant and helps the younger man to get dressed. As he strips to his undergarments, we notice that he is wearing an FBI style “wire”. We say that he must take this off because it is of no use where he will be going. This he willingly does. The tailor continues to dress him, he is very nearly ready to go and looks smart and well-manicured in the suit.

Outside a cow in the shed starts mooing loudly in the barn and I hear it through our open bedroom windows. It causes me to wake from the dream.

Chameleon – Fire – Keys -Butterfly – Cousins Dream 11-12-2024

This dream was between 4:55 AM and 6:30 AM it is followed by a less dreamy attempt to rejoin the dream.

The dream is set outdoors on some kind of patio. In front of me is a raised fire pit. It is made out of fired clay and is light terracotta in colour. The pit is a kind of hand-made grate with a quasi-oval ring of clay supported on pillars of clay about a foot tall. The idea is that there is great air circulation into the fire pit.

On the floor next to the pit is a large chameleon lizard. It is sandy-brown and about the size of my foot. I pick the lizard up lovingly with my hand and it comes willingly. I place the lizard in one side of the fire pit and it lies snug against the wall altering its colour slightly to blend in.

On the other side of the pit, I make a fire with pieces of wood. The fire blazes too quickly. I add more larger pieces of wood. The fire stabilizes and burns more quietly. The chameleon is unharmed.

In the fire pit I notice an old style wrap around key fob in brown leather. I cannot see if there are any keys in the fob or not. I pick the fob out of the pit and put it in my pocket. It feels heavy.

I continue to look at the fire and tend it.

My eyes are drawn to my right hand. I can see a black suit jacket sleeve with several buttons. Inside the sleeve is a buttoned white dress shirt. Both are incredibly crisp and well ironed. Out of the gap between shirt and jacket I extract, by encouragement with my left hand, a large hand sized pale yellow butterfly. The wings are in two segments so that you can see four segments. Its appearance is like a magic trick and there are flecks of gold in the yellow. It flies out of the sleeve and circles me several times

The butterfly flies off.

In one corner of the patio, I see two young women. One of them is light brown with a black Muslim head scarf. She is dressed in black. The other one is wearing white and is of European extraction.

The brown one asks me if I recognise them. She is flirty and cheeky.

No.

She says that they are my cousins and that she knows me. She says that I should have recognised them from Wales. We are related through Cristiaan’s wife from South Africa. She has a mild Afrikaans accent.

I wake and the wife tells me it is 6:30 AM when she gets back into bed.

I intend to rejoin the dream. I enter a sports hall wearing my bright red WRU t-shirt. As I do so the man running the gym says that Wales are not doing so well at rugby. I agree. I go into the bathroom to piss. I am in a cubicle and note that it opens out from the male changing room into the female one. I change cubicles. When I am finished, I wash my hands ritually.

Outside in the corridor I am seized by several men who have their hands on my arms. They are trying to pull me away and drag me with them. I use Ki to prevent them from shifting me. D is watching and he can see from my mudra-like hand positions that they have no chance of getting me to budge no matter how much effort they expend.

The scene changes and I am outside around a campfire with some middle aged women. They have asked me to cook my famous chicken and fish casserole for them. Despite this request they keep interfering with the way in which I am preparing the casserole. They keep trying to tell me what to do. I pick up a large slice of bacon which I tear with my bare hands to add flavour to the oil. They look shocked that I have used my bare hands. I explain that I washed them thoroughly earlier.

Dream ends.

Shamballa – Tunnel – Trealaw – Prince William – Serpent of Wisdom Dream 05-12-2024

At around 4:50 AM having difficulty nodding off I started meditating building the Shamballa thought form starting by arriving at night. I then work on the outer chamber and then the inner chamber. I triangulate with the second ray masters. I then concentrate on building the inner chamber thought form from various points in the room. I can hold the form and bring it “back” with me into the bed. I managed to get a very good 3d full scale model thought form. I drift off. The first segment of dream ends at exactly 7:30 AM because I hear the central heating click on

I am travelling down a circular winding tunnel at tremendous speeds. The foreground is pitch black and the walls are stone-like as they rush by. There is no sense of corporeal just an awareness travelling. I sense that this tunnel pertains to time.

I am now in a much larger tunnel which I view through a grey night vision. I am travelling in a vehicle of some kind, a car. Ahead of me on the road is a white van. The tunnel twists and turns. I know that it is meant to be one way only. There will be no oncoming traffic. There does not seem to be room to pass. The van senses my desire to overtake. So, he pulls over as close to the walls as he can. I start to overtake and there is a rush to make it before the next bend. I just squeeze by. I flash my hazards to thank the van driver. I continue to hurtle through the tunnel.

 I am now at my grandfather’s house in Trealaw Road. M and J are there as somewhere, is nan. M is working in the upstairs bathroom which was not there in real life. She is working on a blocked toilet which has no seat, and it is full. She goes over and breaks a joint in the supply plumbing. Water gushes everywhere. She manages to find the stop cock. She is unwilling to accept my help. I know that there is another blocked toilet on the raised patio in the garden. It is open plan and without a seat. I ask her if I should use my plumber’s rods to unblock it. She does not want me to do this yet.

The scene changes and I am jumping down onto a triangular raft like boat not much bigger than one of our armchairs. It is a clumsy construction of twigs held together by straw. It starts to leave the bank. I reach out and pull the boat back to the bank. On the other side of the river in a garden is Debs. She is behind a wire fence that has a hessian panel occluding ~80% of the fence. She is huge and menacing and she is verbally threatening to destroy me. She comes close to the fence and sees me. She relaxes and attains her normal size. I see on the raft a triangle of blue medical capsules ~ 20 in number but in a very neat triangle. As I move to get off the boat and back on dry land the capsules fall through a gap in the raft into the water.

I am now back in Trealaw and start to work on the outside toilet. Using a plunger I unblock the outside toilet with ease. I go back into the house, there is a sense of expectation. I hear a knock on the door and there kneeling tying a shoelace is Prince William. I say welcome. I say that I suppose I should bow. I do this and he inspects the top of my head. He jokes that I have a little more hair there than he. He stands up and I say, “welcome William come in.” He says that it is nice to be treated the same way that he is treated in the unit. He goes upstairs.

I see everyone else on the floor pointing firearms up to the street and the gap between the terraces. I say to my father that I had better have a weapon. He hands me a UK electricity distribution board with four sockets. I put this to one side and pick up a black assault rifle with a telescopic sight. I kneel down and look out back towards the garden and the gap in the wall. I see a number of people in UK army fatigues. I call William to have a look and ask him who they are. I hand him the rifle and he looks down the sight. “I recognize those two, they are my royal close protection cover. It is they who have surrounded the building.” Everyone relaxes.

I wake and hear the central heating. It is 7:30 AM. I decide to go back into the dream to check the ordering of the dream.

I arrive at the outdoor toilet. I look into the pan and can see the tail of a snake. I reach into the toilet and gently grasp the tail of the snake. I start pulling and the snake comes willingly with my left hand. It coils a little around my left arm. I continue to pull and more of the snake’s body comes out. I reach down with my right arm to support the snake’s body as it comes out. I walk backwards a bit and ease the snake’s body down to the ground. The snake is ~3-4metres long and in part as thick as my thigh. It is a lustrous dark vibrant green, shiny. On its head are yellow-orange-brown markings a bit like cheekbones. It tastes the air with its forked tongue. We are at peace and relaxed in each other’s company. I know this snake to be the serpent of wisdom. It is he who has been blocking the toilets.

Dream ends.

Mistaken Identity – Jersey Arms – Dream 04-12-24

Here is this morning’s dream after an unsettled night in which I came downstairs twice, once for biscuits and milk and then ~4 AM for some Rennies. This dream is from ~5 AM.

The dream starts in a communal office on an elevated floor in London. I am at an institution of education which is being visited by some dignitaries. There is a special meal put on for all the staff.

I have brought some broad beans and green beans from our garden to give to a colleague of mine. I say to him that I will put them in some water to soak so that they are good for him to take home. I make my way to the kitchenette area and fill a glass bowl with water. I place the beans in the bowl and go back to the office. I put the beans on his desk.

In walks a large boisterous woman with a small entourage. She is the head of department. She asks who is going to celebratory lunch given that everyone is invited. A number of people raise their hands. She turns to me. I explain that it is extremely unlikely that I would have subscribed to the invite list so I will not be going. They head off.

I am quite happy to go off campus to buy some lunch items.

The setting changes and I am in a wood approaching a gap in a dry-stone wall. Coming in the opposite direction is a taller version of Helen L. She is much younger than she would be now. In the dream I know her to be a Southerly Dreamer (she was assigned 19).  As I pass her, I say that there has been a mistake and that I have the same predilection as her, namely south. This brings an inordinate amount of joy. She smiles and we pass through the gap in the wall.

The scene is back in the office, and I make my way through the building to the staircase which leads down into the atrium and by passing through that out of the campus and into London. On the stairs I see a woman a bit younger than me coming up. She has a fluffy beige-brown jacket on. She has light brown/blonde wavy hair and is heavily made up with bright red lip-stick. She says that I remind her of Ant and Dec, a sort of collage. She says that we were getting on famously, implied snogging, in The Jersey Arms the other night. I say that I have no recollection. She insists that it is me. I say that I have never been to The Jersey Arms and that there is no such pub nearby. We cross each other on the stairs, both confused.

I am back in the office starting my foray for lunch again. I head towards the stairs. Now the clearance between the stairs and the ceiling is small. I have to lean very far back to descend. As I turn the corner onto a more open part of the stairs the same woman is there. She is similarly dressed. Again, she insists that we were getting it on and having a great time at The Jersey Arms. I say to the best of my knowledge I have never been to The Jersey Arms. She says that she will show the pub to me.

We leave and exit the campus into South Kensington. We walk down some of the grand streets which are being repaired and come to a sort of square around which are shops. I joke that I will probably be on CCTV. In the corner of the square is a tiny pub front with a sign saying The Jersey Arms. I know 100% that I have never seen that pub before nor been in it and that the woman has mistaken my identity. I do not recognise her.

Dream ends

On waking I put “Jersey Arms” into google and it comes up with multiple results for a pub in Middleton Stoney near Bicester. There are no Jersey Arms in Kensington

Talking – Effective Personality Disorder – INFJ Dream 27-11-2024

This dream is from between 3 and 5 AM this morning. This is out of the blue.

The dream starts in the front room of my old house in Brixton. I am initially sitting on the coir carpet. It then shifts to a meeting room with psychological professionals discussing a case. I am to assist. One turns to the others and says about me, “I know that he is not a qualified professional, but he has an uncanny knack of putting people at their ease and getting them to talk freely. He is utterly nonjudgmental and very empathic.”

The scene changes and I am in a single bedded hospital ward. On the bed dressed in a hospital gown is a young man with wavy blonde hair which needs a trim. I say, “hi” and he replies. I go over and sit on the bed. I introduce myself. Implicit is that he has just survived a suicide attempt and is recovering. He is in a bad way. I ask how he is and what medication they had already tried. He says, “Xanax but it did not work very well!” I ask if they have a tentative diagnosis and he says, “effective personality disorder.” I already knew this in the dream.

The next day the staff wheel his bed down to the swimming pool. They are using water to help him walk again. I am dressed in my speedo swimming trunks. I lift him off the bed in my arms and walk into the water until such time that he can float. I let him float off my arms. He is smiling and very happy. We walk a few widths of the pool in the water and then I help him out of the pool. The healthcare assistants dry him and help him change into a new gown. I lift him back onto the bed.

The next day the scene is repeated but I also help him to swim a few lengths of breaststroke.

He asks me how I can make him relax. I say that we INFJs have tremendous and sometimes painful depths of empathy. We can feel the suffering of other beings and sometimes tune into it. We want that suffering to cease.

Dream ends.

A passing thought after the dream was, “is this pointing at helping others again”. A while back I started the process of joining Samaritans but was unsure of the other people seeking to join