Tag: dreamed

Turnpike Inn – Ghost – Hitech – Pink Tablets Dreams – 12-05-2025.

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Here are last night’s dreams.

The first dream starts in a 18th century style horse drawn carriage. It is closed and very much like an Adam Ant video. We are heading north to Edinburgh. There is a couple who are well off, myself and my helper / lieutenant. I am dressed casually in white blouson and with my long grey hair tied back in a pony tail. It is getting towards dusk. We will be staying at a large turnpike inn just inside the borders.

We pull up in front of the inn and the horsemen steady the horses and let them drink. We dismount and I am greeted by the landlord who has been waiting for me. He has a lantern and is accompanied by his wife. He has a Scottish brogue. The otherwise bustling turnpike inn is fairly deserted. He has called me north to investigate. There have been a series of haunting /poltergeist like happenings which have scared his customers.

He leads me into the bar and we have a drink out of pewter cups. It is some kind of port. He asks me how I want to proceed. He then comes with me upstairs into a wood panelled suite with a large four poster style bed and a dressing room with commode. He says that this is where most of the “action” is. He puts a lantern, the port bottle and a pewter cup on the table. He backs out nervously.

I know this physical body from before. I pull my pony tail gently. I introduce myself to who/whatever is there. I take a cushion off the bed and put it on the floor next to the wall. I sit there with the cup full by my side. I am getting ready to wait. I can see my pantaloons, the tops of my stockings and my brown leather riding boots.

I say out loud, “Don’t be afraid because I am not. If you wish to materialise, please feel free. I will just sit here. What troubles you, what ails you? I am happy to discus and help put your mind at rest.”

I reach over and blow out the lantern and sit quietly adjusting to the darkness. In the night I can start to see. I note the semblance of fog-like patterns forming. I start to get a very strong sense of camaraderie as if someone/thing has sat opposite me on the floor. It is the ghost. He is now relaxed. We just sit and share each other’s company. He has no need to talk. We just feel.

This segment ends. This more towards dawn.

The next segment starts in a very brightly lit hospital environment. I am on a hospital bed which is raised for me to sit up. In the corner of the room is the large doughnut of an unspecified high-tech scanner. A male nurse is taking a cannula out of my arm through which I have had contrast agent. I know that it is a CT scanner. The nurse is chatting away.

A young girl who is in a wheelchair comes in. She manoeuvres towards my bed curious of me and what is going on. She has a nasal oxygen supply and is wearing a hospital gown. She is hairless and smiling with me. Her parents come in and call her name, Abby. They come over to us and say hi to me.

A female doctor in a white coat comes in with a small retinue of medical students. She hands me a blister of large bright Rhodamine-pink tablets each about the size of the end of my little finger. She gives me a small bottle of medicine. She hands several blisters of pink tablets to the girl’s parents. Her tablets are the size of the end of my thumb. I joke with her that the doctor has mistaken her for a horse or an elephant. She says that she is used to these tablets. I know that these tablets are very high dose steroids. They are on clinical trial. We both have to take them.

The dream ends.

Monk’s Robes – Toilets – Seminar Dream 09-05-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream.

The dream starts in my chambers. They are wooden panelled and there is not a great deal of light. It is not long after dawn and I am getting dressed in my monk’s robes. I am being helped by my assistant, a young relatively novice monk. He is fussing over me. The robes which I am putting on are of Himalayan-Tibetan colour with a yellowish undervest. I am putting them on left-handed in that it is my left shoulder which is relatively bare. I am left-handed. I sit on a chair and the young monk helps me to put on some grey part woollen socks to go with my open toed synthetic walking sandals. He helps me stand up because I am very stiff and slow moving in the morning.

We go to the communal wash facilities in which there are showers and toilets. I use the toilet and come back to the line of washbasins in front of a mirror to wash my face and clean my teeth. Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche is there as a younger man maybe around forty years of age. He is smiling. He notes how the novice and I play fight a little. He jokes that he has seen quite enough of our kung fu and that we should be serious. I say that it is not a good idea to always be so dour. Something which all of us find hysterically funny.

Today I am going to give a seminar at a London university. As I approach the lecture halls / seminar block I come upon an open office scenario with cubicles for side offices. Throughout the office, on slightly raised pedestals, are isolated “Armitage Shanks” style WC toilets without cisterns. They are antique with wooden seats and lids. Several of my erstwhile colleagues from decades ago are in the office. They do not seem to notice the more than half a dozen toilets. They are fixtures. I go into one of the side offices and someone is sat upon the “throne” mid dump. I apologise and back out.

I move down the corridor and into the seminar rooms / lecture theatre. There are more Buddhist monks with me now one of whom is quite senior and bespectacled. I go into the seminar room and pick up an overhead projector which I take to the lecture desk at the front. I comment than in addition to computer slides I sometimes like to scribble.

The senior monk stands up and says that it is important not to try to take notes as handouts will be given. He says that it is particularly important to note whatever it is that Rinpoche writes down by hand. I am holding a marker pen in my left hand as he speaks. The monk says that Rinpoche’s annotations are key-like and important.

A young female member of the audience who knew me from before as a senior tutor asks me why I am wearing robes. I say that I have not yet been fully ordained and that these are by way of an experiment to see how people respond to me during the course of this three days long seminar. I say that tomorrow I might wear a business suit or sports gear.

I say to her that ordination is a bit like semantics. I am very aligned with Buddhist thinking and don’t really need a “certificate”. I say the difference between vegetarianism and a plant-based diet is also semantic. If you eat a fully plant-based diet as a vegan you are already a vegetarian and don’t need to prove your veggie status. Whereas some veggies are insistent about the virtue of their diet, a true vegan just does. Deeds are more important than words.

The dream ends.

My Five Buddhist Incarnations – Dreaming

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In around 2003 whilst living in London and working as a lecturer in Physical Chemistry at Imperial College in London I started having waking visions of myself dressed as a Buddhist monk / priest. These visions overlaid normal day to day reality and I was able to lecture to a theatre full of ~one hundred students on chemical reaction kinetics or in smaller groups, chemical applications of group theory, whilst these visions were resident. They persisted on the crowded Victoria Line tube trains. I had repeat visions of om mane padme hum tattooed in Sanskrit on my inner forearms. Accompanying these images was/is the sensation of tattoo. These visions lasted on and on for over a year.

I did not mention this to anyone because I thought it would not go down well in the Chemistry department. I thought human resources might not appreciate this and occupational health might be consulted.

I however was pretty sure that this was past life recall.

Obviously, it is impossible to prove scientifically, that any past life recall is real. At best there can be what the courts call, circumstantial evidence. Dreaming comprises some of this kind of evidence.

In 2009 I had a series of visionary telepathic conversations, early in the morning, walking in the woods near Tring with the master Djwhal Kuhl. He told me of five of my previous lives, two of which were Buddhist. He said that I had been a very close disciple of Siddartha.

The dream yesterday has added Nāgārjuna to the list of possible life-candidates.

Irrespective of accuracy or otherwise the theme of scholasticism and scholar runs through all the/my putative incarnations as does the theme of entrepreneurship. I am “on” the second ray, of the Elephant dreaming class and conditioned by love-wisdom, the teaching ray.

One dream suggests that I was Bakula a close disciple of Siddartha who came late to the path after a scholarly life.

Yesterday’s dream suggests some six hundred years later Nāgārjuna. Who was a “founder” of Mahayana and may have taught at Nalanda university.

Another dream has pointed at a saffron trousered Muay Thai trained Burmese / Thai incarnation, a monk/priest/protector.

Then there is dreaming evidence of a Japanese Vajrayana monk incarnation, with poetry.

{The feeling for me is that I also had a Japanese Zen life but no dreams as yet}.

The next two lives were not substantially Buddhist.

Of late there has been increasing “evidence” for a 20th century incarnation as a Tibetan Buddhist. So far there is no evidence of a named individual. If it was a sequential birth then they need to have died before or in early 1964. If it is a shared emanation then there is no strict constraint of time frame.

It is not for me beyond the realms of possibility that I have had five {six} incarnations with a dominant Buddhist flavour and of a non lay orientation.

It is not going to detrimentally affect my career prospects to write about this here and now.

I can just be some crazy eccentric old git living like a quasi-hermit.

“Look at the twp boy over by there…”

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Dream Follow Up – Nāgārjuna

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The first obvious thing to note is that the dream from this morning contrasts significantly with the one about semiconductor clean rooms the day previous.

Nāgārjuna is a highly significant figure in the development of Buddhist thought. He has an entry in the Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy.

Nāgārjuna

There are numerous scholarly articles on him and he is represented often on water

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Here he has a seven snake halo/aura, is on water and with lotuses.

At Samye Ling of the Karma Kagyu in Scotland he is like this, protected by the Nāgāraja king cobra.

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Our pond looks like this and in a few weeks, we will again have full flower.

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Given that we watched Helen Fry on Motorways, an episode of Annika and 24 hours in A&E on the TV last night, there is no obvious “reason” as to why I should be dreaming of a named Buddhist from ~ two thousand years ago.

In my putative chronology of incarnations there is a gap around Zero AD.

The mantram associated with the heart sutra:

gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā

Gone gone, gone beyond, gone beyond the beyond, hail the great awakening.

I once had a blog called “aum parasmagate”

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It is a little strange and for sure this is the first time explicit mention of Nāgārjuna has occurred in my dreams.

The wife asked, “what do you do with dreams like that?”

There is nobody to tell about them. I can put them up on the blog and make a mental note. That is about it.

Lightning Tree – Rainbow – Karmapa – I Ching – Windhorses – Nagarjuna Dream – 05-05-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream / vision.

The dream starts with a view of a large, gnarled tree with many visible roots. The tree is effectively dead with no foliage or growth. I know it to be a bodhi tree which has been struck by lightning.

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The tree is in the middle of a temple / monastery courtyard. It is in a square shaped flowerbed sectioned off with stones. The courtyard is very foot worn. Around the edge is a quasi-covered walk way on all four sides. There is one entrance and one exit corridor. The feel is very Tibetan / Himalayan. This tree has lain dormant ever since it was struck by lightning, by a thunderbolt, dorje. There is sun on the tree and despite its state it is tended and looked after.

This morning a young novice monk to whom the job has fallen is weeding and watering the tree. He notices significant new growth which has appeared overnight. There is growth on some of the roots and higher up in the tree. That growth has been caused by me and my arrival on the planet. The young monk is very excited and runs to find someone to tell. Soon there are a few monks there looking and chattering excitedly. They look up to the sky and to the South they can see a rainbow just below the clouds. The rainbow is feint but persistent. There is much excitement, which increases.

I wake up for a loo break it is 4:30 AM.

In between sleep and wake, I become very aware of the 17th Gyalwa Karmapa in my full visual and mental field. It is as if we are some how joined twinned or connected. The feeling is guttural. They have started some kind of pre-dawn / dawn ritual in honour of the Parinirvana of Siddhartha. They are in a planetary sense to the East of me. There is chanting and those awful horns. I can hear and feel the ritual as if I am there in the hall with them. The visual image of the 17th persists and it is even here slightly as I type. It is clear that something is up / happening. I wonder if the Dalai Lama is dying but search for him and can still find the feeling of him, so am reassured. The ritual goes on and I know in one sense it is connected with me.

I drift off.

I am shown D whom I knew ~ 20 years ago. He is bloated and unwell. He is filled with anger and even hatred towards me. I can see his bloated bare stomach upon which are written the positions by number of each of the 64 I Ching hexagram numbers. They are medical points. I know that he has misused Dao and that he has been taught dark Dao and it has taken seed in him and others. The only chance that they have is to use the I Ching medically to reverse and impede the spread of bad-Dao. I am the key.

The scene changes and I am in the garden outside my office here. I can hear some noises up by the purple rhododendron. Out of sight I can hear munching. I catch sight of a grey spotted foal and her mother a dark brown horse. So as not to scare them I move very quietly. I know they are windhorses or lungta. They jump up and run along the top of our hedges down towards the river. The foal stops and takes a snack on the maple. As they approach the river they are joined by two more white adult horses. Together all four of them ride off along the tops of the French oaks by the river. They are not touching the oaks but flying and galloping in the air.

I am now in communication with some being which says that I am of Nāgārjuna with the j being specific. That I am of the nāgas and nāgarājas.  That is my source and my belonging. I am of Nāgārjuna. The role of the nāgas is not yet understood.

The dream ends.

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Notes:

Nāgārjuna (Sanskrit: नागार्जुन, Nāgārjuna; c. 150 – c. 250 CE) was an Indian monk and Mahāyāna Buddhist philosopher of the Madhyamaka (Centrism, Middle Way) school. He is widely considered one of the most important Buddhist philosophers.

Nāgārjuna is widely considered to be the founder of the Madhyamaka school of Buddhist philosophy and a defender of the Mahāyāna movement. His Mūlamadhyamakakārikā (Root Verses on Madhyamaka, MMK) is the most important text on the Madhyamaka philosophy of emptiness. The MMK inspired a large number of commentaries in Sanskrit, Chinese, Tibetan, Korean and Japanese and continues to be studied today.

From Wikipedia

Deep UV Lithography Concept – Wine Blend Marketing Dreams – 04-05-2025.

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Here are this morning’s dreams perhaps relating to a previous incarnation in this life.

The first dream starts in the sub-floor of an ultra-high class semiconductor clean room fabrication facility {FAB}. This FAB is state of the art and ultramodern. I am dressed in appropriate kit for a clean room suited, masked and with a yellow see-through plastic visor. I have booties and gloves on and am with two other men one of whom is a senior manager of the FAB.

They are showing me all the sub-floor gas, chemical and liquid supply lines with mass flow controllers and blinking green LED status lights. They show me that the metal-organic supply modules are plug and play, when one of them empties you pull the module out and fit new one. The modules arrive on weight bearing “rails” suspended from the FAB sub-floor ceiling. The modules slot in.

They show me the bank of lasers which supply, via light tubes, the lithography apparatus upstairs. The ultraviolet excimer lasers are each double hermetically sealed in case of failure and corrosive gas leakage. They then take me upstairs to show me the 200, 300 and 450mm Silicon process lines with onsite dielectric growth.

They show me the current deep ultraviolet {DUV} lithography tools and how they fit into the wafer process lines. We get out a plasticised non-shedding engineering diagram of my lens-mirror beam conditioning design which fits to the penultimate stages of beam delivery optics in the DUV tools. This is patented by me.  I am confident that the protype we have made is retro-fit able to current tools sets. They agree. We decide to try it out on their pilot research line which can be found elsewhere in the FAB campus facility. The anticipation is that we will use it first on the 13 nanometre node test rig and then if it works to specification, introduce it into production.

The dream changes scene and I am at an up market conference facility. I am running a challenge team training course for three groups of diverse people. I have set them into teams each with their own breakout room base and kitchen. In each kitchen is laboratory style equipment and several bottles of wine from different origins within the same country. Their task as a team is to make a blend for mid-high market sale and develop a marketing strategy together with a launch pitch for their blend / brand.

There is some grumbling about getting their hands dirty and having to make a blend taste it and market it. One of the team leaders is a woman and she asks to be excused from tasting because she is a disqualified driver who lost her licence for drink driving. I say that she can lead up the market/launch sub grouping for her cohort. They have 24 hours.

There is a large hubbub and two teams have red wine and one white. They also have to design labelling and to bottle up six of the product for the launch stand. The wine will be tasted by a small panel of “experts”. As time is running out, I go around to check the branding ideas. The white wine concept led by the woman is “Earth Berry” and is based on a Sauvignon Blanc ultra-dry crisp gooseberry finish. It smells good and clean. One of the teams “led” by a fairly corpulent man with dark hair in a pin striped suit is in disarray and squabbling. I remind them that this is not just a game and that their jobs depend upon performance. They are resentful, in that team, that they have do this task as they see it as below them. The man is pompous and arrogant. There is ill will towards me.

The dreams end.

X-rays – Whales – Water – West Wales – Catherine – Lens – Gig – Tibet Dream 02-05-2025

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For the first time in over three months, I slept through to 4:30 AM. I was very surprised when I checked the clock on going to the bathroom. Here is a sequence of dreams / snippets.

The dream starts with me walking in multiple magnolia-coloured corridors carrying A4 x-ray images of my hips and knees. I am going back and forth and talking with various elements of the medical profession. There is something in these films which they have never seen before, implied something inside me, unique.

I am now in an ultra-modern house high on a hillside overlooking a sound, an inlet, from the coast. The feeling is of a damp pacific northwest America, as per the early Twilight films. There is forest and rain, Vancouver or Seattle. There is water in the air. There is a huge floor to ceiling glass window looking out to the sound below, there are droplets on the glass. I am close almost pressed to the window. It is my invalid home, for recovery.  Far below in the sound I can see whales swimming in a V formation. They are the same black and white non-orca whales from the dream before. My relationship is totemic. As they swim up the fjord inland there is one lead and two on each side of the V. I count thirteen whales in total. It is as if I am swimming behind the lead whale protected by the pod.

I am now at the waterside of the sound. Despite the northerly latitude I enter the water to swim. I can see my dive partner from Sharm El-Sheikh. She is young and attractive as she was then. She is dressed in a green bikini and somehow mostly above water. I swim towards her fully immersed in the cold water completely at home.

The scene changes and I am with my wife and Ashley. We are sitting on the front seat of a right-hand drive minibus. It is one of those continuous bench seats. It is getting towards night and dusky. Ashley is driving, she is in the middle, and I am on the left. In front of the steering wheel behind the dashboard there is a huge mess in front of Ashley, which contrasts to the space in front of us. Now dark we drive down a lane. It is deep in rural West Wales, not too far from the sea. The roads are windy. Ashley pulls up in front of a property and asks, “is this it?”

“Yes”.

He gets out and goes to open the door with a key. It unlocks but the door does not open. I get out and look at the very sophisticated modern locking mechanism. He does not know what is the other side of the door in this rather nondescript building, I do. I pull a key out of my right trousers pocket. It is at the end of a chain attached to one of the belt hooks. The key is golden and slightly shimmering.  I go to the door and with ease undo the mortice. The door starts to open, and a radiant light spills out of the doorway, through the small gap between door and lintel. In contrast to Ashley neither the wife nor I are surprised.

The next part of the dream starts with a strong visual image of Catherine Middleton. She is a bit thin and wearing only a long T-shirt. She wants me to look at her body which I do. I can see her small breasts and the scar from her operation on her abdomen. She feels frail yet determined. In the dream she wants me to have sex with her, which I know is not sex but cooperation. She wants to talk with me about George in particular. Something is bothering her, and she can’t let it go. She needs an explanation different from those she has already had. I comment that I would be happy to try to help.

The setting now changes to the English West Country, Devon, Somerset or Cornwall. Inland, I am due to run a large course at a conference facility. It is due to start in the afternoon, and the preparations are ok. There are people handling the arrivals. I have a team assembled.

Driving the minibus from before I pull up in a layby by a series of beachy coves. I get out and put my belongings in a black plastic workman’s bucket with a handle and head down to the beach with the bucket. I put the bucket on the beach. I enter the water and swim like I used to be able. I swim along shore and in and out of the little coves. I note that there is a strong current running along the shore in the direction of where I started. I decide to part body-surf the current back. Others are doing this too. When I get back to the beach my bucket is gone. It has my ‘phone and documents in. Sat on the decking of a beachfront bar at an outside table is a couple of American men. They are being loud. I can see the bucket with them. I go up to them and say that I need the contents of the bucket. They joke a little, but I insist it is very important because I have a gig to do soon. I look in the bucket and find what I am looking for. It is a small ~1cm diameter bi-convex lens in what looks like a slightly leaden glass. I hold it up to my eye between my left index finger and thumb. “This I what I was looking for!” They look non-plussed. I need to hurry back for the course I am due to give.

 I move on and am back in the van. I am calling to check something for the course. The call goes through to a public pay phone, US style attached to a telegraph pole outside of the modern pacific house from earlier. I can see the ‘phone ringing from where I am sat. The pay phone is quite fancy. Nobody answers. I try again and somebody answers the phone, but it is now not the pacific phone.

I am saying hello etc. There is no response. The phone start to crackle and a female voice asks me if I am who I am using my name and the prefix dr. I say yes. She says that she is Mrs. Andersen and is due on my course. She apologizes that she will not be able to make it. I ask why. She says that she is in the middle of Tibet. She is making a journey from East to West and that it is taking longer than expected. I say to her that it is fine and a very good explanation as to why she will not be attending. We both laugh a little. Life is strange.

The dream ends.

Dream of the Four Pronged nagal – 30-04-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream.

I am with Charlie whom I know to be an extrovert highly talkative nagal’s courier. We are in a courtyard with white stone walls some draped in rude pink bougainvillea. We are sat at a two seater small white bistro style table in the sun. He is talking animatedly and says that there are some people he would like me to meet. We are in a leafy rich suburb of Pretoria South Africa. He says again that are some people he would like me to meet, now.

The first is just around the corner. He leads me off to a small shopping / administrative area. There is a 1960s style polygon shaped building with a large, covered porch and outdoor seating. It is a community library and an outreach of the university. We enter and there are all sorts of posters in the vestibule advertising events. Behind the librarian’s desk is a medium height medium build white woman. She has an immaculate grey straight haired bob and is dressed in a well pressed blouse and trousers. There are small black butterflies as a motif on her white blouse. Around her neck on a lanyard are spectacles. Charlie introduces me and she speaks in a Germanic Dutch English accent. It is different from Afrikaans and highly educated. She says that she likes the East. I already know this, she is an Easterly Stalker who works at the university library most of the time. In her spare time, she is highly athletic and a free climber. She is lithe.

Charlie then leads me off South into a township near Cape Town. We go to a government run drop in centre / nursery. It is next to a pop-up health centre for adults with HIV. We go into the centre and I can immediately hear the booming tones of a large woman, who is telling someone off in a well humoured manner. She is laughing. As we approach, I can see a large buxom and overweight black woman with corn-row dreadlocks. She has a gold ring piercing in her left nostril and left ear. She is about six feet tall and, in all respects, larger than life. Around her are numerous toddlers and small children. It is chaotic yet somehow together. She hugs Charlie fiercely and squashes him to her bosom. When she sees me, she suddenly becomes coy and suspicious. She inspects me and breaks into a radiant ear to ear grin. There is no need for a hug because we can feel each other’s hearts. She is a Southerly Stalker.

Charlie then takes me to Western Cape to an isolated penitentiary inland from the coast. It is surrounded by razor wire and heavily guarded. We pull up to the guard house in our car. He stays in the car as only I am allowed in. The guards have been expecting me. They open the gate and let me in. I walk in unaccompanied. There are no more guards. I open the first gate and then a door. Inside in a dark room of considerable size there is an electric fence surrounding an enclosure. On it are danger high-voltage signs. I can see a man inside the enclosure. He is wearing a wide brimmed hat and a long dark brown bushwhacker’s coat. I can pass through the electric fence without any problems, with ease. I know that it does not constrain him either. We are at home in the darkness of the room. We stand brooding together in the darkness. He is a Man Behind the Scenes and I know him to be seventh ray. I can see his eyes but not his face in the darkness. We know each other very well, across lifetimes.

The dream ends.