Tag: dream

English Village Parish Meeting Dream 22-08-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is this morning’s dream. It is out of context. We did however watch “A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder” the other day and I once helped a NIMBY protest against an incinerator build for a Buckinghamshire village.

The dream starts on a small, grassed square outside a red brick village church / parish hall. Despite being made of very dark red brick and flint the building is centuries old. A special parish / village meeting has been called. It is very important for the village as there is some unknown sense of danger which needs discussed and a plan needs to be made. Under the thatched roof of the “bus stop” around a pub table are sat a couple of women my age. One of who is of Indian origin. They are discussing a recipe in poor French, Franglais. It is all village fete, quintessential even. I am sat on one of the park benches with the wife. Everyone is invited especially those who do not attend church. The vicar has made the church available and the town council committee has sent out invites.

Inside the church the angling club is holding a meeting. We are relatively new to the village, the first thing of interest / excitement to happen there in a very long time. It being a small village the word has gotten about. There is some expectation of me. That in some way I will play a role perhaps an important role. I have been pressed to come by some of the village “elders”. As the village gathers the hubbub increases. The young farmers from outside the village bounds are chatting excitedly. They are opposite us sat on a low wall. They have a slight schism with the influx of townies. The head of the angling society opens a window on the side of the church and tells everyone to be quiet. They have important business.  The middle finger of my right hand extends downwards in a gesture. The farmers note this. The wife is mortified but my gesture has gone down well.

One of the famers, whose family have lived in the village long, says to me, eye to eye, that the head of the angling society is a “right wanker” in a slight west country accent. The famers start calling out “come on you toss pot we have got things to do, hurry up so that we can get started.” This has broken the ice in the assembling villagers. The man closes the window. We can hear chat inside and know that the meeting has been called to a close. The head of the society was once a big cheese in the village but his stock has fallen of late. Before the doors to the church are opened everyone starts to make their way into the hall.

The dream ends.

Busy {Probably Unique} Dreaming

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Over the last few weeks I have had a busy time of it on the passive nocturnal dreaming front. I’ll speculate that the content of these dreams is unique. There is no other being on the planet that dreams like me and has dreams like these.

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The dreams which I have written up are:

Investor Incognito – Quantum Modules – Sociopolitical Problems Dream 19-08-2025

Covercule 18 – COVID 19 -“they”- British Expats Dream 15-08-2025

Dreaming Courses (Stanford) Dream – 14-08-2025

Derek Jacobi – Cats – Vance – US Visitors Dream Sequence 13-08-2025

Academic Chemists – Derelict Site – Attack – Honour Dream 11-08-2025

The Somnambulant – Purple Wolf and Crocodiles Dream – 08-08-2025

Novel Conductors – Counts of Penthièvre – Tapestry Dream – 03-08-2025

Coming Home to Roost Dream and Preparation 02-08-2025

Easterly Stalkers – Tarot 12 – Dream – 01-08-2025

“Job” Interview  – IP – Patents Dream 30-07-2025

Candle Vigil – Koyaanisqatsi – Jaguar Shaman – Strange Group Dream 25-07-2025

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Some of these dreams are well in excess of 500 words long and contain subject material with detail which are not your common or garden. My dream recall is adequate and well-practiced.

In one context dreams can provide indications on possibilities in the web of life, apertures which may offer some form of physical plane manifestation. The possibility may be there on the cusp of the dream but physical plane reality renders the probability very low indeed. The dream on dream courses cannot happen now, but at some far time in the future may be possible. I saw the Stanford University quad. In no way could anything I might offer be curriculum acceptable because it cannot be peer reviewed.

The saucepan with IP, patents and quantum in, continues to simmer on a low heat at the back of the stove. Even were an aperture to persist for more than a nanosecond it would take a very risky gambler to touch me with even the longest of barge poles.

These dreams currently show little or no sign of coalescing into any kind of even a nebulous reality.

The wife’s dreams have indicated that we may be due a change in awareness incoming on a non-specified timescale. Noted…

Strangely the most likely thing to change things would be a lottery win!!

The probable life trajectory remains quietly heading towards autumn and the pencilled in date for operation. This followed by recovery and a further operation late spring ’26. In the meantime we have a short visit to the UK planned to see how we feel being there. Strangely it is about cafe Nero, Waitrose and Sainsbury. It will advise us on the blighty or not question. We need to renew our immigrant status early next year. We could get refused and booted out. We cannot assume that we are allowed to stay, though it may be likely we are. We can’t yet claim refugee status or asylum.

Whatever may or may not be going on externally is in many senses another world. I do not foresee it impinging directly here. I could be wrong.

I await to see if the dreaming offers any indication of residual fate, of things I need to do before I die. In the past there have been big gaps in dreaming. When I had bowel cancer I was dream free for a year.

So far this year I have had 60 dreams written up which extrapolates to 90 by the end of  the year.

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This is roughly on trend for the dreams in Brittany graph. I wrote up 84 dreams in 2024. The dream length has seemed to increase as has the detail in the content. No alcohol since early February does not seem to have changed the dreaming pattern.

We shall see…

Investor Incognito – Quantum Modules – Sociopolitical Problems Dream 19-08-2025

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Here is last night’s dreaming sequence.

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“If you want my future, forget my past
If you wanna get with me, better make it fast”

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The dream opens in a splendid mansion and grounds of Italianate design situated somewhere like Lake Como or Lake Maggiore. It is upper class, rich and very swanky. It is an investor event for high net worth individuals and venture capital (VC) funds of diverse type and scale. It is late evening drawing into night. There is a string quartet and finger food. Presentations will be given in an outdoors setting once it has become fully dark. There is a stage and seating. Seating is round “ten” seater tables. In the meantime a pre-event wine tasting is going on. It feels European.

I am working incognito as one of the wine waiters. I am in black and whites with a white wine apron. I am opening a bottle of vintage red wine and offering to taste before decanting. I then fill a decanter with the rest of the wine. The idea being that they also taste after half an hour. I pour a taster around the table. Each in turns swirls the bright red wine and tastes. I move onto the next table who are trying an ice cold New Zealand white. In general the interaction is professional but I can tell that I am “staff” and not one of them. I am of no significance. I am not the main event.

Heading back to the kitchen an American woman who is a VC accidentally bangs in to me, she is partially drunk and is very rude to me. I apologise even though it is her fault. She is brash and convinced of her own importance. The event suggests to me that these are not the kind of people I seek.

The scene changes and I am at a booth in a trade show and technology event. On the table in front of me is a quantum module. It is a slot in for a 19 inch electronics frame wider unit. I have the side panel off the module. In it I can see a photonic circuit processor which is air-cooled by fan. Connected to it are several tight circle bundles of fibreoptic cable. These are cable tied and attached to the motherboard. A number of them lead to optical-optical low loss interconnects on the rear of the module. To the top of the board is a diode pumped fibre laser which I know to be single mode. The whole unit is a modular quantum logic gate, a plug and play module for an in-principle demonstrator. With me in the booth are Geri Horner and her husband. As a hobby he has led the engineering team and has managed to attract some not standard funding from Red Bull. I replace the side panel to the module and screw it in using a jeweller’s screw driver. I slot the module into the wider 19 inch parent rack. I then mount the whole unit into an electronics rack and attach the computer interface. Geri is excited and waiting for people to visit our booth. There is a Red Bull logo. The module is a large-scale building block prototype for a room temperature quantum computer. I have had to seek non-standard funding, hence Geri and Red Bull.

The scene changes and I am in my workshop / shed on top of a low rise several storey building. To my surprise a text message arrives on my ‘phone. The message asks “why, why am I packing it in?” I am very surprised that there is both a ‘phone and a text message in the dream. {A very rare thing} As I am dealing with this surprise a man appears at the door of my shed. He is older than me, very English and of the UK science hierarchy. I let him in. He wants to know why I am dropping this line of research / investigation. I explain to him that the establishment does not accept me and has difficulty interacting with me because I am not usual. I do not belong to any famous company / institution. He does not believe me. I explain to him in more depth and he starts to get offended imagining that I am attacking the entire science hierarchy. I ask him if he is personally offended. He says, yes.

“Now do you see the sort of thing I am up against. How resistant to me people are?”

“Yes, OK , I get the idea.”

He then asks me to hang fire for a while. He wants to know who I am working with. I explain that it is just me. On my bookshelf he see texts on superconducting and quantum circuits. He says that he might be able to get someone to work with me. I doubt it. There is no money.

I say to him that there is little which can be done. It is as it is. He does not like this.

The dream ends and I have the Spice Girls “Wannabe” to mind.

Is it Safe to Write off Dreams?

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There may be times when we wake up from a nightmare or grimacing with embarrassment from the contents of a dream and in coming to think, “phew, thank God, it was only a dream!!” Yet in the twilight between sleep and “awake” it takes a little while to convince ourselves fully. The dream residue hangs around as we perhaps take breakfast and if we are so inclined, a morning shower. The mind set “it was only a dream” is partially convincing for some and complete for others. The dream echo may last until we get on the Metro train of a morning.

But the funny thing is, you can never un-have a dream. Whether you like it or not the dream has changed you, your consciousness and assimilation of the world. That change may be tiny; it may be huge. But a tiny change, a tiny acorn can become a mighty oak. Things we attempt to sweep under a carpet leave a lump of sorts.

The more rational we imagine ourselves to be the more likely it is that we use the “it was only a dream” explanation and justification. Dreams are for space cadets and rainbow unicorn jockeys after all. They are not real; they have no bearing on waking reality. Bah! Humbug!! In our enlightened AI social media obsessed age dreams have no real place. You can’t make a TikTok out of a dream. You can take a video at Santorini.

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Of course if you are prone to recurring nightmares, they can be tricky to write off with the “it was only a dream” mantra. You may even get stressed about going to bed in case your nightmare returns. Depending upon your point of view, a nightmare means that there is something you need to address in life. It could be a PTSD minefield etched into you being or some other life circumstance than needs attention. Something you are perhaps unwilling to face, to the extent you have nightmares about it.

If you are lucky your dreams may offer you guidance and insights for life. If you are a know-it-all arrogant person, you may squander these with the “it was only a dream” mantra. Dreams can warn you about traps you are rationalising yourself into, they can offer a left sided view aside your insistent justifications.

But if you are of the “phew, I got away with that” mentality you are very likely to discount and write off any advice given in dreams. You are so cunning and clever.

In general most people have a good idea when the need to address some problem or other in life. They know in their hearts. They may lack courage. Their minds may provide an entire Excel spreadsheet of excuses why they do not have to face whatever it is. So they will put it off and put it off and put it off. They may, in this manner, precipitate a crisis of considerable magnitude. They may hope that they never need to face “it” and pray for the fairy Godmother. They may indulge in magical thinking.

I have no idea what you might be dreaming. You could be dreaming a dream in which I am.  In that dream there may be some “advice” for you on what to do. For example if you are fated to meet me, then I might be a recurrent theme in your dreams. If you wish to follow that fate as opposed to stymy it then it might be wise to try to engineer a meeting. If you wish to avoid me you could keep doing than and see if I eventually stop appearing in your dreams or nightmares. If I disappear from your dreams, you could conclude that it is safe to write off dreams in which I appear.

The thing about dreams and dreaming is that there are rarely binary. Dreams are nuanced and partially ephemeral.

I have had hundreds of dreams. Some of which I have been able to act upon meanigfully. There are many for which I am in no position to do anything about. All I can do is note them. I never discount them, but I can’t do anything. It is not my call, my play.

If your dreamer wants to get through to you and you discount what it presents in dreams, it can start to offer omens and dreaming symbols in real life. If for example you have a car crash in real life, then your state of awareness your assimilation of the world and its circumstances needs to and will have an abrupt halt, a forced change of direction. This is a waking dream.

Of course you could ignore it and use the “it was only a dream” mantra and deny your hand in whatever happenstance has occurred.

Did you know that the reason ostriches stick their head in the sand is to better help them to dream?

From my point of view it is generally unwise to chant the “it was only a dream” mantra. Some dreams are relatively safe not to devote too much attention to; others require immediate consideration and action.

Recurring dreams are a subset of dreams that must not be ignored.

Covercule 18 – COVID 19 -“they”- British Expats Dream 15-08-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

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De baard maakt geen wijsgeer; anders was er de bok goed aan.

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Here is this morning’s dream sequence.

The dream starts with me talking with a young medical practitioner. She is an advanced nurse but not a fully qualified doctor. She is wearing very dark blue scrubs and has an identity lanyard around her neck. We are sat at a hospital dining facility come café. I am talking with her about my philosopher’s chin. I have a habit when pensive of sometimes gripping my chin with lightly with my right hand and stroking the left side of my chin with the right index finger. I say that nearly every night just before I go to sleep it itches where the finger goes a little and I give it a brief scratch. It is a part of going off to sleep of a night.

She says that there is no need for concern. I was already unconcerned. She says that it is my covercule 18. The phonetics of the word covercule are explicit. That covers my 18. The philosopher’s chin.

She says that ever since COVID 19 humans have become split. There are those who believe and trust the medical profession and those who prefer half-baked conspiracy theories and internet remedies. “They” are more consulted and believed than is warranted. I say that given my chemistry background I tend to trust vaccination and think of the medical profession not as deity but qualified, trained yet human professionals. I note that not everything they say is evidence based, some is still anecdotal. She agrees that medics are not infallible. I say that I have the courage 18 of my own convictions and am not readily swayed by the advice of “they”.

The scene changes to a small town square in France. We have been considering a move back to the UK and have been chatting about this with some British expats. They point us towards a car parked on the square in which are two women. The window is wound down. I approach and speak with the woman driving. She says that if we are going to rent or buy a property in the UK there is some anti-squatter documentation that we need to fill in. We need to engage the services of a security company called ON. The documents are back at their place.

The wife and I go to their home. The relationship between the women is unclear, query lesbian. We go in and one of them retrieves a document from the office. I am sat at the kitchen table now without a shirt. In the sink are a pile of dishes from the night before. The wife and I exchange glances. One of the woman goes to find a pen. There is other debris in the house. It is a bit of a shit tip yet these women are claiming to be experts. Their house is not at all in order. I have my cheque book out and have started to fill out the form. The woman says that I need to write a cheque for £100 to the security company. Everybody knows “they” say that it is a good idea. I am unconvinced. I motion to the wife and we leave. The women are not happy and entreat us not to miss out. I doubt the wisdom of “they”. They live in a shit tip.

The scene changes and now still in France I go for a walk along the canal. It is early autumn and the canal-side plants are grown green near waist high. It is difficult to see the gravel path. I step off the tarmac road onto the path. I walk along the canal. In the distance I can see a young French man fishing with a roach pole. He has two light brown mongrel dogs of medium size with him. I see by the canal a discarded round warning road sign, which I pick up. As I approach the youth, he makes a playful dog yapping and barking noise to suggest that the dogs will do this. He and I lock eye to eye in mirth. Sure enough as I approach the dogs bark and yap around my legs. I steer them with the road sign using it as a shield. Once passed the dogs return to the fisherman.

I find a path off the towpath up and around the small road bridge over the canal. Aside the bridge is an old toll cottage. I knock on the door and it is answered by a middle aged, fat balding British man in shorts. Over the stable half door I pass him the once discarded road sign which he adds to his collection. He thanks me for helping him stay useful and for adding to his collection.

The dream ends.

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* Because of where I spent a fair part of my childhood I was exposed to expat {British} communities. I saw the shenanigans and how some struggled with living far from home in a quasi-incestuous partially suffocating community. I am therefore naturally sceptical about expat “wisdom”…

Dreaming Courses Dream – 14-08-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream had between 4 and 6 AM. Again another one seemingly out of the blue.

The dream starts in a faculty office. Behind a large desk is a woman in her 40/50s. She is powerful and dressed in an expensive skirt and jacket suit with a royal blue shirt. She exudes wealth and she is very accustomed to getting her own way, obeyed even. She tells me that the faculty have agreed to my proposals for a course on dreaming and that I may go ahead with these courses on an experimental basis. She needs to be kept in the loop of developments. She thinks that I am fearful and subordinate to her. When I simply very relaxed and fluid. I know that she has other agendas which she is trying to forward and that there are politics going on behind the scene. She hands me a book of mounted photos like a book of material swatches used in fashion or decorating design. The book of “swatches” has covers and I cannot see the contents. She intimates that she wants these included in the courses.

Her office leads out onto a full or partial quadrangle with a covered ambulatory or walk way. It has a light reddish-brown brick. There are cobbles in the quad. It feels a little like Greenwich but also has a sense of Berkley CAL. There is a history and the word meridian is to mind. On the side wall of the ambulatory there is a small wooden display case with a lockable glass front. In this cabinet I will display course synopsis for the passing footfall of students.

I go into an open room with whitewashed walls and a dark red stone or painted concrete floor. I am met there by a younger woman who has been assigned as to help me and, to keep an eye on me. She asks me why I think that there are no definitive books on dream content. I say that by their very nature dreams are nebulous and not well suited to reductionist quasi-logical methods. Dreaming is dreaming and it has to be approached via dreaming and not structure. Sense-making can hinder dreaming significantly.

I open the book of swatches to show to her. Inside it are photos of some kind of Tibetan centre, out in the country. There are images of coloured prayer flags blowing in the wind. One of small stupa only a few metres high. There are western white participants and a very few Tibetans dressed monastically. I know the word Drukpa is associated. It is clear that a part of the agenda from the powerful woman relates to Tibetan dream practices. There is more agenda.

The young woman has a notion that in dreaming cultures there is always a myth and a mythos. That these grow up around the dreams and the reporting thereof. As a part or her research she would like to see if we can seed a myth and a mythos into those participating in the dreaming. Rather than that being an ancient hagiography she wants to seed an artificial mythos and see where it goes. She ushers me over to the back of the room where there is a museum style display case with a sloping horizontal glass covered display. Under this are full depth “admiralty” drawers containing specimens. She pulls out one draw and there packed in cotton wool nests are several rock specimens. She selects a grey and black speckled “agate” egg. The black is dark like obsidian

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She says that this will or could be the dream egg around which we start to create a dream mythos or myth. She is excited and I say that I am happy to explore this avenue but that it needs fleshed out. We can use the egg for the birth of the course, metaphorically.

The power woman, the principle, from before knocks and enters the room.  She is wearing high heels which have been tricky on the cobbles. I show her two pages of A4 text which will serve as a flier for the course. This text will go into the cabinet. She asks what the syllabus will be and I say that the syllabus will be decided to a large extent by the attendees and mostly by dreams. She looks sceptical.

I usher her over to a tarpaulin. On which are several plants in black plastic pots tied to short bamboo supports. I say that these are going to go into the green house and that these will comment upon and be a part of the course. I ask if she would like to help us plant them. Yes. We load half the plants onto a flatbed trolley and head out of the quad-building to the university allotment where our greenhouse is. Together we all plant the plants. The principle comments that she found it very enjoyable and that it is the first time for a very long while that she has had dirt under her nails.

We go back to the quad room. The principle asks about a web presence or page. At her prompt I know that I have to send someone a link to the dream yoga blog as it currently stands. I will do this after I have written up and posted this dream.

The dream ends and I note with some surprise on my way back from the bathroom that its exactly 6:00 AM…

Derek Jacobi – Cats – Vance – US Visitors Dream Sequence 13-08-2025

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Here is last night’s dreaming sequence of three distinct though somehow interrelated parts. Out of the blue….

The dream starts in England, in autumn, outdoors, walking along a leafy path in parkland. I am with Derek Jacobi and we are slightly ahead of a small grouping of British theatre luvvies. The wife is with the second group, with Emma Thompson. We have been wined and dined at a pub like The Spaniards in Hampstead. The conversation is flowing and everyone is excited. We are going back to someone’s mansion / house which is nearby. Jacobi and I are talking about philosophy, deity and Shakespeare a prime passionate interest of his. He is being his usual erudite and expressive self. He is asking me multiple questions about “back then”, previous lives. We pause at a clearing and sit on a stump for the others to catch up. We are being celebrated, feted even. The others catch up and Jacobi leads us off; he says that dinner is being prepared and we did not ought be late.

I awake. The shutters are partially open to let the air flow on a hot night. The window is open. Gandalf the stray cat is patrolling the window sill. She meows several times. I mentally debate whether to acknowledge her. I cough she hears and soon departs. I imagine she is seeking reassurance that I am there. I intuit that she is somehow guarding us.

Back in the dream we are downstairs in our current house. Bibi the indoors official cat is with us. In the garden we can see Gandalf. I open the large sliding “floor to ceiling” veranda style doors. Gandalf comes in greets us and Bibi. They go to sit on a large white leather sofa which is somehow against the wall by the log burner. In the garden a third black cat appears and it too enters the house, greeting us and sitting near where we are standing. A tallish woman with mousey blonde long hair comes into the garden. She is wearing an expensive trousers and blouse combo. She is slim and taller than me. She is forties of age and American sounding. With her are mice, rabbits and other small rodent like animals. They all follow her into the house, a/her menagerie. She says hello and that she is new to the area. The wife asks her name. Ivanovich or Ivaniaovich or something like that is the phonetic reply. Her first name may be Irene. Another large light brown cat with very long hair comes into the garden. The cat inspects us but does not come too close. She says that this too is her cat, his name is Vance. He is aloof and does not mix well. He thinks he is important. Vance walks around keeping his distance. He is high maintenance, she says. She winks.

The next scene is set in a very modern rental house with several levels and a designer garden. It is our temporary home; the feel is non-descript European. Staying with us are an American couple they are high functioning and high powered. The wife somehow knows the female from before. We have had a party the night before and wake up to a messy house. I am taking coffee orders. Felix {the probably dead stray cat} is asleep on the white sofa with Bibi and Gandalf. Felix meows at me and goes to the sliding glass window. He wants to go outside for a shit. I let him out. I explain to the woman that he likes to shit outdoors. I get coffees and give one to each of the couple. I go upstairs to ask the wife what she wants for breakfast. Garlic cheese on toast is the answer. I say that she can have cheese on toast with coffee and that I will bring them up to her in due course. I go back downstairs.

We look out the window and a garden robot like a mower passes by. It is expertly raking the gravel around the roses and pulling weeds. The garden is low maintenance self-clean a design of the architect who designed the dwelling. I say that this explains everything. I had wondered why the garden looks fresh each morning. The woman gestures to me to follow her outside. I do. She takes me aside out of earshot of her male partner. She says that later in the year in Colorado they are going to have a celebration and wedding. She asks me if I will speak at the wedding and perhaps officiate the service for them. I say that I would be delighted to do that and ask her what nature of service she would like. She says a non-denominational service based on beings and the universe. I say that I am sure that I can prepare the words. She says not to mention it yet to her husband to be. He is already onboard in principle and there are a few other details she wants to sort out. She shows me a picture of the Colorado mountainside venue. They have already booked a suite for the wife and I.

The dream sequence ends.

Academic Chemists – Derelict Site – Attack – Honour Dream 11-08-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream had between 5 and 7:30 AM.

The entire dream is in England and not the north or the midlands but south to that from geography and accent. There is some kind of gathering of chemistry academics in the upstairs of a large pub or hotel. There is a vague feeling of conference but it is not quite that. It is more of a social gathering with a problem solving outlook. I am there but largely unacknowledged nor welcome. There is hubbub and people drinking. A man, John, comes in who knows me and says that he has just got promoted. He is a bit younger than me. I congratulate him genuinely. I say that it  is good news for him but that my job is very definitely at risk if not already lost. He concurs. I am spare. I am not entirely sure why I am even at this gathering. I do not belong.

The scene changes and I am walking with a woman roughly my age who works at the place of the gathering. She is a lynchpin for the departments there. She has grey-blonde hair. We are in South London and approaching a very rough neighbourhood. I am not sure where we are going. She says that she has a secret place, there. We come upon a boarded up set of flats that are fenced off and ready for demolition. The site access gateway if closed off with a large chipboard wooden gate together with health and safety signage about helmets and hazards. She unlocks the chain and opens the gate. I ask her if she is sure that she wants to go in. Yes.

I follow her in and we can see several blocks of low rise four storey flats. They are in a bad state of repair but not quite Gaza like. She leads me through the rubble to one building where we are joined by another woman. Together they make their way to the back of one of the ground floor flats, to the kitchen. She has set herself up a snug with teapot, table and bone-china. She boils the kettle to make tea and gets out a plate of cupcakes. She ushers me into her snug but I cannot fit fully. It is as if she and her friend have shrunk as has the flat. I can get my head into the room but nothing else.

Behind me I hear noises. I turn out of the flat and look across the rubble strewn ground between the buildings, the demolition site. I can see half a dozen young black men approaching. They are carrying weapons and acting threateningly. I can feel my wallet in my trouser pocket. They approach and I say to them that I will give them some money. I take out six £20 notes and offer these. The lead man does not want them. He says that they are going to “fuck me up”. I say that they are welcome to try.

He lunges at me and I grab his wrist in a Kotegaeshi aikido wrist lock and swirl him around. I cannot however get full control of his wrist. Others come up and start to beat my back with iron bars which I can feel through my heavy overcoat. I let him go and then shrug the attackers off. They start to give chase and I head to the chipboard gate site entrance. They are following me at pace. I am completely unconcerned because their blows cannot hurt me or injure severely. As they follow me though the gate I head onto a grass verge in front of another block of flats. There is a massive police operation going on with many police in protective vests, armed and with dogs. They see my pursuers and recognise them as people they want to arrest. Half the police break off the search and give chase to my attackers.

I go back into the derelict site and find a white tiled bathroom which is intact. In the flat above there is a large woman who is a giant. She is five times my size and wearing striped tights with massive Dr Martens boots. She is curled up under the ceiling and above my bathroom. She has platted pony tails and is wearing a denim pinafore dress with straps. She is my friend and we go way back.

I turn on the shower and note the complete surround of white tiles which bulge slightly under the weight of the giant upstairs. I take a long hot shower. I need to cleanse, to get clean.  As I finish a young man with blonde hair in white overalls appears. He is the electrician-plumber and is trying to fix the bathroom and the derelict site. I explain to him that it is near impossible because there is no room left in the gaps between ceiling and roof. I have tried but gotten nowhere. He says that he has been given the job of fixing things. I wish him luck. It will be a thankless task.

The scene changes and I am in some kind of meeting with around half a dozen male chemistry academics. They are the “generation” below me and rather full of themselves. They are talking management bullshit about targets and how they are going to fix the problem of which I am a part. Although I am there I am largely ignored. They are arrogant. I know beyond all doubt that they are heading towards a massive mistake, a fuck up. I try to warn them. They ignore me convinced that they know best. They think they have a vision and a solution. They are very badly mistaken and it will go very, very wrong.

They ask me what I have in my wallet. I take my wallet out and pull out first four and then another two £20 pound notes. That makes a total of twelve £20 notes. In the dream I know that money re-presents crystallized power or knowledge. I have in my wallet the jewels of awareness forbearance 12 and honour 20. My honour remains intact no matter what they do.

The dream ends.

The Somnambulant – Purple Wolf and Crocodiles Dream – 08-08-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is last night’s dream. I have taken recently to using a knee pillow to ease my nocturnal back pain. It means that I do not start the day with lumbar spine pain however I am now more aware of the hip pain. I am slightly easier to get going of a morning.

The dream starts in a metropolitan area part Kurfürstendamm Berlin and part The City London. It is pan European and upmarket, upbeat, expensive. Despite being smart it has a whiff of decadence and loose sexual mores. If feels a little dated though contemporary, as if things need to change.

I am with two others of my kind. We go into a night club past bouncers with a red rope barrier. We are among many entering the night club even though it is still light. People are leaving their jackets at the coat check. The clients age ~20-40 and are of mixed sex and nationality. They are somehow a part of the “in” crowd. This place is difficult to get into and has an air of privilege. I know that some are “content” creators.

We wander through the many levels of the night club, which is big, vast even. We see people dressed expensively made up with false eyelashes, there is evidence of tattoos and cosmetic surgery. All the punters have dilated pupils consistent with hallucinogen use. The look to be awake because of the pupils. But in fact they are more like walking dead, sleepwalkers, somnambulant. They are all there because it is the “it” place to be. There are floor after floor of them. There is however no music, no sound, no talking. They are zombified. The look animated but are not. The lack of music in the nightclub is very eerie and joyless as are the clientele. This is modern life. We are very surprised.

Now in a dark basement of the club. I am told that I have met the velvet, the purple wolf and that this is the mood. There is anger. I do not see him yet the feeling intensely subjective is strong. Purple is not a good colour. I know that in part this refers to Théun and that he is a bringer and symbol of all that refuses to change, stuck hard and fast in the old ways. There is a lush insistence on indulgence characteristic of the outgoing sixth ray which presents a major barrier to evolution. People are stuck in their ways and vehemently adamant that they are right, they will growl, fight and try to destroy any agent for change. There is a longing for times gone by which no longer are. I have met the purple wolf and that is an emblem of all that refuses to change. It shows that clinging on to old ways and out-of-date cultures, preserving, is not moving forward. There is more meaning to this meeting which will become apparent over time and indeed layers are coming as I type.

The night club has now changed into an underground theme park water ride. People are in “hollowed out logs” which are like little boats and are being driven around the “amusement” park by the flowing water. There are simulacrum rapids and now people are vocalising, shrieking. In some of the logs are people I know from the past in London.  I am on the side by a sluice in which is an adolescent hippopotamus. It is trying to get out into the wider theme park and succeeds. The hippopotamus is friendly towards me. I know that it wants to turn over the log-boats for fun. At the side of the water course there is a pool which is filled with mid length crocodiles, not full Nile size but a couple of metres long, lithe active and hungry. They are the crocodiles belonging to the people in the log-boats. I know that these crocodiles are the dreaming symbols for cumulative shortcomings of the people in the boats. There are many of them. One of the crocodiles is exiting the pond and starting to make to attack me. It is snapping at me. I pick up a slightly smaller crocodile and place it horizontally into the opening mouth of the attack crocodile. I know in the dream that the attack by the crocodiles of the people in the club / log boats will be ongoing and unlikely to stop anytime soon.

The dream ends.