In terms of MBTI, I have a clear INFJ preference. I have very high scores for N intuition and J judging. This means that I am a bit of time freak, I like to be early and get things done well before any deadline. It has come as a shock to some that I am very introverted.
My dominant function is introverted intuition, which means that few get to see what goes on internally. Occasionally people are very surprised at what pops out. I have some skill in envisioning, so called big picture thinking, but pictures are generally 2d so that description is limited.
Intuition comes in various degrees from knowing the next number in a number sequence puzzle to having a profound insight into the psyche or soul of others based on little “evidence”. The first case of intuition here is an extension of logic. The second is an unexplainable knowing.
Intuition can be re-written inner-tuition.
Where a kind of learning happens as if by magic. If I cannot solve a problem, I leave it to my background processors intentionally and then a few days later a solution or a new way of thinking comes into mind, ta-da!
Dreaming, passive dreaming at night, does not come from outside. So, we could call this internal process, intuition, particularly if insights arrive in a dream. Dreaming is a subset of intuition.
I personally trust my intuition and dreams more than what is said in overt and verbal conversation or even text. If there is divergence, I trust my inner-tuition over what is presented or spun. Being introverted I don’t let on.
In esoteric psychology some dreams can be termed “dramatizations of the soul” in which the soul is trying to assist the mundane being. You can’t get more inner inner-tuition than that.
Statistically INFJ is the least common personality type. If you know one hundred people then only one of them is INFJ. {Of course, INFJs cluster in certain professions}. Many of us report problems fitting in with society and the square peg in a round hole is a depiction of the INFJ. There are lots of different visualisations of INFJ because INFJs often like metaphor and allegory.
Because INFJs are interested in things like psychology, then it follows that many may have an interest in passive nocturnal and active lucid dreaming.
Some dreams are internal dialogue and daily angst carried into sleep. I’ll suggest that at certain depths dreaming is a form of inner-tuition or intuition. There are similarities to heightened meditative states and conscious nocturnal dreaming.
The trick is learning how to remember your dreams and transfer them into the so-called waking “reality” of life quotidian.
The first thing to say is that when I “see” maps in dreams they are very vivid and often highly detailed. They have a property of standing out of the dreamscape.
————–
12-08-2011
In my Bakula dream set in a mountain hillside terminus high up in the Nepal-Tibet – Bhutan area. “All trains go through Bakula” is spoken on the Tannoy. I see a map with Bakula at the node of a triskelion of rail lines
–
1-9-2013
I see a map of India which looks like the front view of an Elephant with a bindi which is Bodh Gaya where Siddartha is said to have attained enlightenment. I go there.
–
14-9-13
I see a map of Japan and the location of the subjective gateway to freedom guarded by an Elephant.
–
27-6-2104
Again, in high “Himalaya” the Karmapa shows me a hidden cave on a mountain on a secret map.
These all share a Buddhist them in addition to a map theme.
———
29-01-21
Set in Budapest Hungry I discuss a map with four tourist women. The map is of Derbyshire where I once used to live. I offer them a lift.
–
14-08-2023
I am shown a map showing the location of the Polish Tartar {Tartyr} centre. Which I see later as a Neon sign.
–
04-09-2023
I am shown a map of Rawalpindi and the rail station. I am to teach at the university there in the Punjab. I am met by faculty.
——————
It seems 2024 is the “year of the maps”. What is next?
09-03-2024
I am in Northern Territory Australia and can see a detailed map of the Barkly high way stretching all the way to Townsville.
–
21-04-2024
I am giving directions to an old friend from a mental map which I hold of the lake district and Cumbria. The 3d map held in my mind is both detailed and accurate. He does not want to accept my directions.
–
25-05 2024
High up in the South America Andes I am shown a map with an 11,000 foot peak on it. We are about to hike.
–
28-07-24
I see a map of London showing University College Hospital and the London postcode SW4. I am shown this map when located {dreaming} in SW7 and I cannot find that on the map. I used to live in SW2 which is next to SW4
—————–
The other comment is that there are a lot of mountains and mountainous areas….
The dream starts inside a university building. I am walking past a desk with my name on it. For some reason nobody has claimed that desk though I know that I have not used it in a very long time. I go past a locker which also has my name on it. For some reason I am the only person who knows that I am not still there, nor have I been in a very long time.
I find myself next to a stack of large filing cabinets. The top drawer is open in one. A tall man {J?} is talking with me.
He asks me what I think makes a famous scientist.
I ask him for an example of a famous scientist.
He says, Andrew.
I say that in my opinion there is a difference between a famous scientist and a good one. I say that a good scientist does thorough studies like Physical Review B, whereas a famous scientist is forever seeking headlines.
He says that I will never be a famous scientist.
I say that I never was a famous scientist, nor will I ever be. I already know that. At best it is now only a hobby of mine.
I leave and head through the exit hall of the Imperial College chemistry department.
I pause and head back towards what once was the library. Its function is restored.
I go in and there is a student sitting at a large communal table. He is looking at a map. I take a souvenir map of London off the shelf.
I can see that one of the chairs is broken, as is one of the cabinets.
I start to open up the map on the communal table. I explain to him that the map is free. I can see a massive new development in East London which is labelled University College Hospital. I am struggling to find our present location on the map. The librarian comes over. I explain that I used to cycle around London and that I am looking for my route.
She says that I probably came in on the A roads from the South.
I reorient the map and can see an area labeled SW4. The map only shows SW4.
I note in the dream that this belongs to a class of dreams called map dreams.
The dream ends.
*Numerologically SW4 is 1 + 5 +4 = 10 = 1 Impeccability reducing to fluidity. Impeccability is the jewel of the Southerly Dreamer.
*SW4 London is Clapham and Stockwell and ends close to where I once lived in Brixton.
I am somehow going around town spraying foam on people I walk with others, and this is for their protection.
I go into a shop. It is old and wooden there. A Ghurkha dressed in a kilt is there, he is talking with the shopkeeper. I tell him that my dad used to work with the 7th army, specifically he was assigned to the Seventh Ghurkha Regiment.
I note the golden medal he is wearing. On it are a golden Caduceus and an image of a swastika. {the correct non-Nazi way round}. He had not seen the swastika before and is a little upset. I explain that I have a golden caduceus too. It is not with me today as it is being examined by another of his kind who is also looking at my Father’s will.
In real life my physical plane father did indeed work with Ghurkhas in the Malayan Emergency and as I have just found out 7th Gurkha Rifles was there at the same time. He was given a Kukri by the Ghurkhas as a gift of honour. I remember it well. He was Second Lieutenant acting Captain in REME during his national service. Because they believed in fate, he said that they had absolutely no fear and did crazy stuff full of courage. I did not know of the number of Ghurkha regiments until 10 minutes ago.
{This added text written in 2023}
———————————————————————————————
Trigonal Pyramids –Tricorn Hat – Splitting Dream 27-03-2011
I am returning from a flight and arrive at the airport. There is a sense of extensive travel. There is an image of Rob. He is splitting in two, he has two heads. In my hand I hold the “reflexis” cube. In which I see this. This cube is an “impossible” geometric object made up of two trigonal pyramids to make a cube, the top surface of which is highly reflective.
I am sharing a flat with Rob. A man comes to fix his stereo. He is giving attention to his valve amps. He says to me with a wink that my type of amplifier is better. I comment that I only had to change the valves once. Rob’s amp has an element of show whilst mine is more practical. The valves on my amp are glowing.
Later I am going for a meeting and arrive at Oxford Street. I notice Rob heading to UCL. He does not see me nor recognise me. I am wearing sunglasses. I try to talk with him. All roads lead to UCL.
Then in another world Rob has willed himself into the court. He is in every room at the same time. He is dressed as a jester with a three-pointed tricorn hat. In one room he is multi-coloured in and other room he is black and white to match the black and white tiled floor. It is only since he has been split that he can do this. They are waiting for me.
Outside as I approach there is a cat watching some hedgehogs and rabbits play on the lawn. The cat pounces on a hedgehog and gets a “thorn” in its paw. I help it and get the thorn out; I say to it that it is being silly. It then watches the rabbits and pounces on one. It has a small one in its mouth which it is going to eat. I note this and move off into the court.
The dream the repeats itself several times, especially the bit about the splitting, the “reflexis” cube and the image of the jester like figure in a tricorn hat.
–
–
—————————————————————————————-
Triskélion La Maison Dieu Dream- 4-11- 2011
I am flying over landscape after landscape watching towers made of rough-hewn stone being struck by lightning. One after the other they are ruptured and destroyed. They are of all shapes and sizes, some tall and thin others, stout and medieval. The scenes continue to unfold against the backdrop of a dark stormy sky. It seems to go on for ages.
I am aware that this is Liberation Through the Power of Intent in Action. In the dream I call up the card La Maison Dieu to view and I start to write poetry on the subject of it. It is important that people understand La Maison Dieu.
The scene changes and I am now floating like Jason Borne on the sea. I am in a space with no walls. In front of me is a three legged “wheel”, shaped like a Triskelion or three-armed swastika. It is very definitely a “wheel”, and I am looking at the central part. I cannot see any circular part yet there is a strong feeling that it is somehow there.
The parts of the “spokes” closest to the “axle” are red in colour. The parts further away are made of gold. There is no axle, simply a hole where the axle might be. The hole is circular. I am willingly tied to the Triskelion. The wheel starts to rotate in space and I with it. As the rotation speeds up, I start to merge with the Triskelion. I become it and it me. Now I can not be seen only the red and gold Triskelion spinning at a tremendous pace. This starts to move off through Space and Time. I have become the cog in the wheel.
Here is as excerpt from a much longer dream a so-called four pager.
There is a steep incline / cliff. I climb over the fence with my laptop and start to descend the cliff. The cliff starts to give way and I surf with it to the bottom. I am now in a dry riverbed. There is only a small amount of water. I follow the river under the motorway to a place where two rivers join. The is a black forest style house there. I go into the house. There is a fire burning on the hearth.
There is a small wooden chair. It has a solid back with two cut out shapes. I sit on the chair. It is someone else’s chair. I get up and sit on another chair. I put the other person’s chair up on a bed so that I can get a better look at it. As I do so I bang heads with whoever is on the chair. Slowly a cat materializes on the chair, and we start to have a conversation. There are a series of puzzles for me to solve in the house.
Out of the ceiling a construction comprising wooden squares suspended by string materializes forming a tunnel. I am to go up this tunnel. I start but because of the breadth of my shoulders I get temporarily stuck. At this point I can see a seminar where people are looking at a screen and there is an overhead projector projecting transparencies on the wall. People are sat around the table trying to understand the codes in the transparencies. I make my way to the back of the room and ask if the projector is in focus. The guy projecting adjusts the focus in and out. Those watching can’t solve the first riddle. I note that the first clue suddenly resolves into:
” SYNTHESIS”
We move on and a piece of Battenburg cake comprising four squares of yellow and pink appears.
It cuts itself into three equal sections roughly centred at the middle. I know that I am like the cake cut into three equal sections. This is my configuration.
I continue on, cognizant of the theme “needing to solve puzzles.“
–
–
Dream ends.
———————————————-
18 Flames – 17 Flames – Mossad Dream 31-1-21
Here is the first of last night’s dream which were had either side of a piece of very squally and stormy weather.
The dream is set in a hospital which is similar in feel to the one locally where I was admitted previously. I am sat up in a chair fully clothed and there is high technology medical apparatus around me. In the room are two young men in army fatigues and with weapons. They each have a western style assault rifle and a handgun in a holster. One of them has a circular close-fitting hat on and he has ginger coloured hair and freckles, the other is darker of complexion.
Suddenly out of the hat small blue flames, several inches in length start to burn in a circle round the man’s head. I count them and there are eighteen in total. I know in the dream that this man is my nagal’s courier and he is reflecting for me the eighteen blue flames of my courage.
I turn to the other man, and he has blue flames arranged in a circle too. I count these and they are seventeen in number. In the dream I am surprised because he feels like a southerly stalker and should by rights be a woman. It strikes me as odd. So, I think that he must be my courier to the Scholar representing the other part of my predilection.
I take note of the numbers 18 and 17, the jewels courage and discrimination or discernment.
Into the room comes a male doctor and two female nurses. They are all wearing white coats. They are going to take samples from me. I ask if I can have some local anaesthetic, some lidocaine. They say that it is better that I do not. The man does something and then I am moved away to another room.
The nurses do not get a chance to take their samples.
I am now in a large room with a single large table in it. The nurses are with me. I say that they can take their samples now. I take off my shirt and lie on the large table. They take out their instruments and cut several pieces of flesh from my right side. I have raised my arm for them to do this and do not flinch. They put the samples into sample bottles which then then put into the pockets of their white coats. They leave the room. I sit up on the table and put my shirt back on, there is no blood.
The ginger haired man from before comes in. He is now wearing a security earpiece wire. He says that he is from Mossad and here to protect me. He is now also wearing a Kevlar chest shield and has a helmet in one hand and assault rifle in another. He says that there are seventeen of his colleagues, also from Mossad, around the perimeter to protect me and keep me safe. I have been brought here for my own protection and together with the seventeen colleagues he makes eighteen all of whom are to keep me safe and secure.
Dream ends.
——————————————————————-
Nagal’s Courier Dream 2-2-22
This is the first very vivid dream that I have had in a long while and on a morning with a whole heap of 2s.
I am at a small fishing port walking along the harbour wall. In the near distance I see a dark-haired man leaning against a parked Ducati motorbike. He is wearing leathers. I know this man to be A, a dreaming nagal’s courier. I approach him and say hi. He is very sceptical and not-trusting.
I explain that I need to make him aware of some things because there has been a lot of misinformation floating around. I say that when I stopped interacting closely with Théun my dreaming colour changed from indigo-purple to indigo-blue. The shade deepened and became much more vivid. I am certain that it meant that I was a second ray being an Elephant and not a Wolf. I ask him a metaphorical question, “How is your dreaming colour now?”
I explain that there is plenty of “evidence” from dreams and omens that I am a nagal being and not a Man of Action as Théun had suggested. I had been trying this hypothesis on, as is my want. The dreams both mine and the wife’s suggest that I am doubly severed and therefore a three pronged nagal being. Indeed, I had a traumatic experience entirely consistent with the second severing. My secondary predilection is for the East and thus I am a philosophical nagal and radically different in approach to Théun. A second ray dreaming philosophical nagal is an altogether different beast.
I say that in my opinion there was a whole bunch of stupid shit going on back in the day. I say that I have said what I needed to say.
The dream ends.
This dream follows on from an earlier one in which I was verbalising the rule of the four-pronged nagal for a bunch of students.
————————————————-
Himalaya Foothills Dream 19-06-23.
Before the dream started, I had a very persistent thought form in which I thought “humanity is no longer Darwinian”. This seed thought pointed to the fact that the process of natural selection has been inhibited by modern life. There is no longer exclusively a survival of the fittest. Lifeforms which would have died out survive and the evolution of the human species is stunted. People in the west do not currently have to fight to live, they can eke and survive.
The dream starts with me looking down at my bare feet they are on a concrete floor painted a very deep shade of red and I am wearing loose weave ethnic trousers, of a magenta shade. I can feel the cool floor under my feet. I am indoors and the refuge from the heat is welcome. I am sitting in a wicker chair on a white cushion.
I stand up and leave my residence to go to the hotel / hostel which is downhill from me. I am in a small town on the side of deep ravine in the Himalayan foothills. I have been here for quite some time. I am at home. There are people milling about in the street. They are brown skinned with jet black hair and of slim stature. A couple of the children wave at me, they follow me down the street. There is a sense of accustomed play.
I get to the hotel and go up to the communal dining area. There people are making themselves a meal. It is all very ad hoc. I recognise some of them from London 20 odd years ago. Amongst them is Alexandros {nagal’s courier}. He is tall and has suffered badly from middle age spread. I motion to him and we go out into the small private garden. I ask him why he is here. He says that when I left ages ago, I told him that he should be sensible and keep safe. He has come with the others for me. We go back inside and there is an air of expectancy in the dining room. I leave.
I make my way back up the hill and try to cross a drain into a shaded porch area of an emporium serving tea. I struggle and nearly trip. A young Nepalese man (Gurkha?) grabs my arm and says, “you need to be more careful sahib.” I am a little surprise by his tone. He sits me down. It is clear that I am struggling to move and in some considerable physical pain. He says that we need to build up reserves because we are going to have to walk through the mountain pass at 3400 metres. It is a long way but we think that you can make it. The pass is to the North of the town in the dream. He says that he and his brother will be there with me all the way and that it is their job to guide and protect me. They have been assigned.
I step out onto what passes for the town square chiselled into the mountain side. I can smell the mountain air, rich and pungent from the plants on the mountainside. I can see the Himalaya massif resplendent in the morning light. It looks magnificent and formidable. Around the square a couple of light brown skinny dogs are playing in the shade of a tree.
To the side of the square is a small open stone wall. There are stones on top of short pillars. I go to sit on the wall and the Nepalese man comes and sits next to me. Down in the valley on a road winding up to the town there are several people and loaded pack donkeys. They are making their way; they are European and are assisted by locals. I recognise some of the Europeans. I ask the guide, “why are they coming here?” He says that “of course they have come to see you sahib. There will be others too.”
Dream ends.
————————————————–
Rule of the Four Pronged nagal – Numerology Dream 17-08-23
Just because there was not enough weirdness already here is this morning’s dream.
The dream opens with a quintessential English village fete set in a green and sloping park. The park has trees around the circumference and is lushly grassed. There are stalls selling produce, a Tombola stand, a Pimm’s tent, bric-a-brac and an inflatable play area for the children. There is a small crowd of English people at the event. The atmosphere is summer and nice. Everyone is relaxed and there is a nice hubbub.
At the corner of one stand, I notice a talk young man with dark hair who resembles A whom I know to be a nagal’s courier. I go over to him to say hello. I say that I need to tell him about the rule of the four pronged nagal. He already knows that he is a nagal’s courier. He says that only nagals should narrate the rule. He doubts that I am nagal. His jewel is 20, honour.
I walk to the side of the fete near the trees. I hold his attention with my eyes. I run down the slope and take off flying down the slope and then back up to close to hum. He says, “that was stupid, everyone could see you!” I motion to the crowd they are going about their business as usual. I say that the display was only for him and his eyes. He says, “OK. I’ll buy it you are nagal.”
We head off into a European piazza, Italianate in character. There is much buzz. We head off into a taverna which is busy. There sat on a table is a middle aged balding ginger man. He is entertaining his table with stories. He does not look entirely well. I say to the nagal’s courier that he is a Man of Action. He replies that I should go and tell him. I say that it must be action. I take the courier down into the basement of the taverna and find the electricity distribution box. There are many fuses and interrupters. I flip the switches. The tavern and the basement are plunged into darkness. There is unease upstairs. I hear the Man of Action strike his Zippo lighter. He says, “don’t worry it was probably a fuse. I will go and investigate.” He comes down in the basement and sees us. He turns the electricity back on. We all leave the taverna together. His jewel is 6, choosing between the old and the new.
Now it is nighttime and we go into a basement nightclub. It is dark and smoky. It has seen better days and is seedy. On the stage is a cabaret. We sit at a table and order some drinks. On the table next to us an older man is being entertained by a hostess who is pouring him drinks and flattering him. She is a tiny black woman with an amazing architectural hairdo. She is wearing a skimpy red dress which reveals her athletic shoulders. From the way she moves to the bar she is lithe and a dancer. She is sat very close to me. I suggest to her without words that she must come with us. She looks over. We get up and leave the club, she follows. She says that she must get some things. So, we follow her into a catacomb where she lives. We go into a gothic chamber and she fills a holdall with clothes. I say to her that she is “bat-shit crazy” because there are bats flying about. She yes, literally. Her jewel is 5 need for freedom and change. She is as Westerly stalker.
We are now above ground in daylight. We go to a suburb near the sea, where there are three storied wooden houses of a classical Boston marine style. The place is ultra-tidy and serene. I select one house and go up the stairs. I pull the bell rope and a man in navy-blue shorts and a white polo answers the door. His short hair is immaculately cut and the creases in his polo are razor sharp. One the back of his polo is the number 2. He says, “hi we have been expecting you. Do come in.” He ushers us into a bright well lit kitchen with a blue and white nautical theme.
“I’ll just call my brother, my twin, we always do everything as a pair!”
His brother comes down and joins us in the kitchen. They are identically dressed. They stand with their backs to a white porcelain sink and ask us in unison, what would we like for breakfast. Their jewel is 2. They are couriers to the female East. I note in the dream that a pair of twos is a double whammy omen. Two is the need for humility and understanding or a hint of destiny. Given the context I favour the latter.
The flow of the dream goes South-North-West-East which I understand to be the flow of power, which is in the act of manifesting, that is one the verge of coming into manifestation. It is on the cusp of the dream.
Dream ends.
——————————————-
Berne – nagal’s Insignia Dream – 27-04-24
I slept until 5:22 AM. This dream came upon going back to sleep.
I find myself in a seminar room sat in a partial circle of chairs without tables. Someone is giving a spectroscopy seminar on the screen. It is about some work being done at a German university. When the seminar is over, I go over to Sam and comment that it was a very nice piece of work to which he concurs. I know I am in Berne, Switzerland.
There is a short pause and the seminar reconvenes. I am wearing a blue-grey jacket much like the one I used to have. To this I pin my nagal’s insignia. I take it out of my pocket and pin it to my right lapel.
It is getting late. I have nowhere to stay. But I am pretty sure than I can get a hotel room on my credit card. I leave the seminar room and walk off into the Berne night.
I wake up noting that it is very unusual to have a dream with the insignia in. And wonder if it means that I need to be more proximal to one of the planetary centres, namely Geneva. I note that I have also spent time in London, Tokyo and fleetingly New York. I decide to try to return to the dream. Geneva is the francophone centre.
I am now in some shared house with a “Rayburn” style of heater. The pipes are all transparent made of glass. We are changing the thermostat setting and this causes the water levels in the pipes to change. I comment that it is a good idea to have these pipes transparent because one can see what is going on.
I then move into an office building. I meet the secretary which Sam had. I think about asking her if she likes dreams. I change my mind and say to her that I have something to tell her and Sam in private, namely the dream.
I move into an office full of Ph.D. students. I ask them where the post doc office is. They point me. I go in and it is full of people a few of whom are known to me. I ask where I am supposed to sit. Alan F sheepishly points me to a chair/desk in the corner. I sit down.
I say that because of the number of post docs Sam must be doing well.
One of the women, a senior post doc, asks in an American accent, “what the fuck are you doing here?”
To which I reply that I am slightly surprised too.
She says that everyone gossiped and ridiculed me after I left last time. I reply that I know because Wolfgang told me and that he was not happy with the behaviours of people towards me because I had been nice to him.
Sat around the table each of us have a grey carton.
“Today we are having oysters, huitres”, says one of the post docs.
“Not for me thanks I don’t like them”, I reply.
“Why?”
“They feel like catarrh from a bad head cold, a viral infection.”
“Can we get you anything else?”
“Just a glass of water please.”
“Won’t you feel left out?”
“No. Since the last time I was here I have done extensive meditation and am quite Zen abut most things.”
In front of me is a lab book and a fountain pen.
The pen is their “gift” to me.
I go to take the lid off the pen and try to use it. It is booby trapped and I get ink all over my hand and my mouth. I dip a tissue in the water and wash my hands with it.
“It looks like I will need to use a pencil instead of a fountain pen to write.”
There is a titter in the office.
I turn to use a computer and reflected on the screen I can see them reloading the pen.
I tell them that I am seeing them do this and that I am not a fool. I walk over to the main culprit. I place my left thumb firmly into the nerve point between his right thumb and forefinger and squeeze his hand. He drops the pen and grimaces in pain.
I explain that I am now 100kg because I have been working a garden.
They joke that British gardens are small.
I say that I have been living in France with a garden of more than an acre.
I say, « je peux parler Français ».
I do this is a very poor accent.
I go back to my accommodation. I note that I still have not written my dream and that this mocking “welcome” is a generic thing.
The next morning, I put on my grey camouflage trousers and vest. I attach the insignia to a piece of smooth string and pop it around my neck. It rests just under the top on the singlet in my chest hair.
I go into town towards the office. The woman and two other postdocs are at a cross roads.
We exchange, “morning”.
They are about to mock me for dressing as a soldier. I lift the insignia out of my vest to show them, knowing that in so doing I am making a powerful occult statement which they do not understand.
This morning’s dream had within it a knowing that it is related to the Human Puzzle dream.
The dream starts of with me walking around and exploring a suburb of Birmingham. In the dream I am aware that it is the centre, the middle of the country and I take that metaphorically as the crux. I explore a few shopping parades and come upon a country park. I nip through a hole in the hedge onto an earthen path. The park is being renovated and there is machinery in one corner. Even though the path is muddy I do not gather mud on my shoes. The park is empty and well supplied with benches. I note that it is an oasis in the hustle bustle. I leave the park and am back on the streets I have a cigarette and note that there are only two Marlboro Lights left {old style packaging}. I will need some more for the night.
I am now indoors and have a large loud and vocal argument with my ex-wife. She is being intransigent adamant and vociferous. She is trying to justify all sorts of things. She is inaccurate and misguided. She is lying. My attempts to reason with her are completely unsuccessful. She is trying to manipulate me but without success. I see that I am wasting my time.
I turn to the audience observing this and say that Théun warned me that her lies and manipulations would hinder me for 13 years or more. I say that he was right in his predictions.
I am now inside with my aunt and ask her where the nearest Tabacco shop is. She says it is just around the corner. It is the only part near here which I did not explore earlier. She asks me to get her 100 Lambert & Butler 100s and that she will buy my two packs of Marlboro. She hands me her hand bag and says that I should take it. I have no intention of doing this. I take some money out of her purse. To buy her cigarettes not mine.
I leave and find an off licence shop. There I purchase the cigarettes and two cans of Stella Artois. The shopkeeper is friendly and we chat briefly.
The scene changes and I am in some kind of seminar room with a black board on an easel. Sat in front of me is a young Chinese man in a pin striped suit, he has a pudding bowl haircut and thick black rimmed spectacles. He is short sighted and I know him to have genius IQ. I am trying to explain to him the three triangles and the square of the tenfold Kabbalistic manifestation. I say to him that I am not good at drawing triangles. He concurs.
Every time I finish one part of the explanation he interjects and wants to draw complex integral mathematical formulations. Which he does in red marker pen upon a white board. He badly wants to win the argument.
I say to him that he is not listening and that his desire to argue inhibits his cognitive capability to assimilate. He disagrees. I say that he is being overly complicated.
I say to him that he so badly wants to be right and to win that he cannot understand because he is not motivated to do this. He disagrees.
I ask if he wants to win.
Yes.
I say to him that I do not give a shit about winning, nor being right. That is petty. If he does not want to learn I will not force him nor will I try over and over.
The scene changes and we are at a beach on a grassy verge. I am with a man and we are going to wash people to clean them up. To that end I have a huge 50 litre green panier of fresh spring water. In order to be ready, we have to go down some stairs to the beach where people will come to be cleansed. I navigate the large hewn steps with difficulty because of my hips. I take care not to spill a single drop of the spring water. My companion follows suit. We set ourselves up under a wide beach parasol.
The scene changes and we are on a wide concrete path inside a massive underground structure. The path heads uphill to a stone staircase leading onto a further path. The paths lead out of the cavern towards daylight. I can see a trail of what looks to be dog shit. With one lump every 30 cm or so. I follow it up the stairs. Where the colour of the shit is now grey and clay like. It leads to a massive turd which is the start point of the shit trail. The trial runs for 20 meters or so on each level and the volume of shit is truly massive with fist sized turds.
My companion catches up and we retrace the shit back down to the lower level. We are both amazed that anything could leave that much shit and live. There is a whole lot of shit which has not been cleared up. Masses of shit.
In my dreams a common theme cropping up in five of my typed up dreams is that people cannot believe what has happened to me, nor accept it as real. It is for them a massive non sequitur that I should find myself where I actually am doing what I actually do. They cannot believe that I am interested in the things that I am and that I metaphorically fell off the edge of their world.
They are incredulous to the point of denial.
In three other of these dreams, rumours {and implied gossip} are being circulated by people once close to me. These rumours are believed even though they are wildly inaccurate bordering on slander or defamation.
I am warned in five other dreams that no matter what I say or do people simply will not believe what it is I am saying and doing. The notion is that to try to get people to believe is to smack my head against a brick wall.
People are more willing to believe rumour than me.
Further in three other dreams I offer advice or knowledge and in no way am I or will I be listened to. The message is that it is tending towards {utter} futility to even try.
The subsequent post {“previous” according to wordpress} in the blog roll is an example of this disbelief theme.
I am standing in a column of light which is shining down on me. It comes from above. As the light shines on me it etches into my skin black tattoos, these form on my arms, my legs, my chest and my back. They are letters, words and phrases in Sanskrit and Senzar. The letters are in a black ink and cover pretty much my entire body much like the Bulletproof Monk. I carry these letters.
Next, I am in a city landscape and everyone is going to a party at city hall. There is a concert on there and people are gathering. There is an ensemble playing, it is like the Academy of Ancient Music and the instruments are all original period pieces. They are up on stage. On the ground floor and in a “box” is Princess Anne.
By this time, I have told people about the tattoos and nobody believes me. There has been some press interest but the men with their 1950’s style newshound flash cameras have lost interest. This is because there is nothing to see. The party continues on undisturbed.
I now find myself in a department store which is old style. I am curled up on the floor near a counter wearing a grey long sleeved shirt. The shop people find me there and nudge me to get up. I get up and as I do so the sleeves of my shirt fall back to reveal a list of tattoos in Sanskrit, Senzar and Chinese. These are now in very vivid royal blue and the calligraphy is exquisite, it is almost moving and definitely alive and vivacious.
The store staff are all bewildered by this and take me to a back office. In the foyer to this back office are two small Tibeto-Chinese figures. They are dressed in ceremonial costumes and approach me. They are dwarves and twins. I show them my forearms and they recognize the Sanskrit and Chinese characters; they guess that the others must be Senzar. The tattoos are now moving like a “stock ticker” scrolling across my arms. The dwarves are awestruck.
Whilst I am waiting for the store staff, I get bored and so leave the store, into a busy “New York” city street. It is raining heavily and my shirt gets wet through. It is clinging to me. I am wandering through the city in the rain with these vivid mobile, deep royal blue tattoos being the only coloured thing in a grey and black and white-grey world.
In the dream I know that I am carrying messages. I am by way of a messenger.
Later people gather around me and I show them my forearms. People now start to believe what I have told them before and all are astounded by the tattoos. I show church leaders and statesman. They are all stunned.
–
–
In the city the younger people are setting up to go to a house party. It is the usual thing and people are gathering to go to someone’s house. They are all too busy with partying. They do not realize that the “party” is at my house.
I am now on a roof and there is a stack of old billboard type advertisements. There are several of us and we are sorting them. There is one which reads Toltec 7-14 which we find and as we do this one of the phrases in Senzar lights up on my arm. It says “Toltec 7-14 New Book” in Senzar. I know its meaning. I know it is both a date and has the meaning of dreaming symbols {7= guidance and 14 = new knowledge}.
I awake with very strong sensations on and in my forearms and chest. These are very similar to when I had the visions of myself in Buddhist monk’s robes and tattoos in Sanskrit of inter alia “Om Mane Padme Hum” nearly a decade ago. I can feel the place where the dream tattoos were, particularly on my forearms.
The dream starts off with multiple images of the English royal family, specifically the younger members. I am somehow to become some kind of an adviser to them. In the dream I know this is because Diana had an interest in dreams.
Next the wife and I are on a very posh English country estate, as guests. There is a strange relationship whereby the estate owners are a little discomforted about our presence because we are “oiks”, yet they need and want to get something from me. We have the run of the house and the use of the indoor pool. We have been swimming naked. We get out of the pool and the wife wraps herself in a large white towel. Together we walk into the kitchen. The man there, the estate owner, hands me a towel to cover myself. He is ill at ease but knows that he needs / wants something from me.
Next, I am arriving at a very extensive and expensive Italian country estate. There are two brothers who live there. They are younger than me. The estate is magnificent. One of the men is looking after a child who is deaf and mostly mute. There is a sense that the mother is no longer around. They keep the child in a room, it is baby like. The other brother is on drugs. It seems that he is hiding from the world. When I arrive, he is underwater in the pool having recently taken a “hit”. His brother says that he is having an out of body experience under the water. He gets out of the water and dries off. The other brother and I go off into town to gather supplies from the local store.
We settle in for the night in the same room as the child. He and I are lying on the floor on a mattress whilst the child is in the corner. The child appears to be unsettled. I go over to comfort the child. I know that I will be looking after it tomorrow. The child’s skin seems a little dry and it is completely hairless. I talk to it and caress it.
It starts to speak clearly with me and stands up on its feet. It is around five years old but is still dressed and treated like a baby, it still has some baby like behaviour. Now, though profoundly deaf, it is speaking very clearly though only to me. The man is totally astounded. He, in all his years, has never seen anything like it. The child continues to walk and talk.
The scene now changes and I have with me an ornate bird cage with a small, rare and beautiful bird inside it. I am walking with the man in a field carrying the cage. I tell him that I am going to do an experiment and that he must be quiet and still. We come to a wall / hedge at the edge of the meadow which is full of wild flowers and long grasses. I ask him to lie down and be still.
I place the cage on the hedge and open the door. The bird is hesitant at first but soon starts to edge its way out of the cage. Soon it is fully outside and another of its kind flies by. The once caged bird joins in and starts flying around. In time there is a whole flock of them. They do a “fly past” as if to say thanks and disappear off towards the mountains.
Next the wife and I are looking on the computer for where to go on holiday or where to live. It must be somewhere where it will be good for birds and for freeing them. On the screen I see a property which we have looked at before but discarded. I open up the web page again. It is an isolated property in North Wales. It is at a bend in the road which runs along the mountain side. Rather than being a static image it starts to animate. The property is of an Eastern style with a veranda, land and gardens. It is set back from the road a little, on the side of a small valley. Behind the property there is a stream and a small waterfall. The whole image is now animated and we can see the waterfall. This will be a great place to free birds.
This morning’s dream was the most vividly coloured one I have had in many years.
I am in a car with my wife. We are driving down a narrow street and I am looking for an entrance in the walls. I will know it when I see it. There is an opening, and the walls are pointed with immaculately cut stone blocks. I know this is the place. The wife is hesitant in case it is private property. I say that I have seen this place a number of times in the dreaming. I turn right into the opening. The car we are driving is our right-hand drive Peugeot 207. As we enter the properties the walls are of a vibrant and almost radiant royal blue. The colour is very intense. We drive several metres down this tunnel.
The ground has dark red granite-based gravel. The tunnel heads off ahead of us. There is a turning to the right also with the intense blue walls. I take this turning and it leads to an immaculate courtyard in front of a grand French town house. There is a short staircase leading to the front door. I take this staircase. The door opens before me and a corridor leads me up into a large wooden floored ornate ballroom. It is a bit chavvy like Versailles.
The ball room is twenty to thirty metres long. At the far end of the room on a heavily decorated antique table is a huge ornate bird cage. It is about 1.5 metres tall and 1 metre in diameter. Inside the cage is a huge owl. The owl is almost as big as the cage. It stares right at me and then fluffs up all its feathers around its head to make a big circle. It then relaxes them and repeats this several times. The owl and I are staring at each other and there is a sense of being at-one with this owl. I sense that it is caught in its gilded cage. But the owl knows that it can at any time de-materialise the cage. This it does and the cage vanishes. The owl then stands on the table and fluffs up its feathers again whilst maintaining eye-contact.
I feel an enormous sense of camaraderie with the owl.
This morning’s dream sequence pertains {perhaps} to the early to mid-1990s.
The first sequence starts with me on a train to Poole in the UK. I get off the train to go and see my university flatmate D. {I helped nurse her through recovery from a bad car accident and was best man at her wedding to a school friend of mine.} When I get off the train D is nowhere to be seen. So, I try to call her on my mobile ‘phone. I cannot figure out how to use the ‘phone so I ask a teenage boy to help me. He scrolls down my lists of contacts and finds her number. {In reality I do not have this.} I call her and she does not answer. A short while later she calls me back and leaves a message. She does not live in Poole anymore, rather Bognor Regis. {They are quite distant.} I try to call her back and she says that my school friend A will come to pick me up in his Beemer {BMW}. I wait for ages and he does not turn up. I try to ‘phone again and we go through a game of ‘phone tag, missing each other’s calls.
It is clear in the dream that this is all about miscommunication something which happened a great deal in the past.
The next dream starts in a stark concrete apartment block I am exploring a landing on an elevated floor. I notice a door at the end of the corridor which I open and walk through. I am in a large smart office of a research establishment. The office is populated by young research scientists of both sexes. They are Swiss and the is the research group of one of my bosses S {from early-mid 90s}. The lab is in Switzerland. The conversation in the office is in a mixture of English, French, Swiss German, and Hoch Deutsch. One of the lads asks me if I can still understand German. I say that it will take me a few days to get my ear in. I say that I miss Switzerland and feel at home there.
I then ask them about their projects and they explain in a great deal of detail the experiments they are currently doing. I say that I will need a while to update my understanding of the high level ab initio programmes because I will be rusty. They ask me which radicals I did spectroscopy of. I explained that way back I looked a mass resolved spectroscopy of neutral water clusters. The rumours are that S has gotten me back to work on a research project to develop a very high power carbon dioxide laser. He has gotten a big tranche of funds and wants someone like me to oversee.
I go down the corridor to another office and can see what was once my desk.
I enter a hectic office with a secretary and S. S is working over at his desk I go over to shake his hand which he reciprocates then he says that I will have to wait my turn, somewhat coldly. He is very busy and there is a queue of people to see. He gestures to the secretary and says that she will help out with the formalities. She is young and speaks excellent English.
While I am waiting, I go downstairs and out of the building. I look around and sure enough it is Switzerland and I recognise the main street upon which I once lived.
I go back into the office and wait turn. When I meet S he unrolls a massive set of blueprints for the new laser design, it is for multiphoton induced chemistry to make radicals by direct vibrational bond cleavage.
The dream ends and I am astounded at the level of technical detail in the dream which I have cut down by a large factor in the write up.
Dreamyoga 