Wolfgang – Switzerland – Being Slagged Off – Martial Arts Grading – UKE Dream 07-04-2025

Here is last night’s dream. I was on much reduced medication to see how I coped. Sleep was not deep.

The dream starts in a communal office setting. Wolfgang {flat mate – and subsequent employee} is sat opposite me. He has a thin pencil moustache and something of a mullet, neither of which he was accustomed to have. He is upset with me because he thinks that I have been mean to him and reneged on our friendship. I have done no such thing to my eyes. I know in the dream that because I do not do transactional “friendships” I do not have “friends” in the traditional social sense. I am very poor at “normal” friendships. I do not do mutual praise and ego stroking. People cannot relate to me because they do not get the normal feedback they are expecting. I say to Wolfgang that he may have misjudged.

The scene now coalesces to the shared common room area of our floor in the University of Bern. Sat around the table are many of the people from the research group. Wolfgang says in front of them all, that they have all been slagging me off and bad mouthing me, partially because I did not fit in and suck up. He says that I was always the outsider. I say to him that it is in no way new to me to have people gossip and slag me off behind my back whilst pretending to be nice and friendly to my face. I say that people can be very mercenary when they think that I have something(s) they want. I say to him that he needs to get over it, his misplaced upset. I say that his moustache looks ridiculous.

The scene changes to a large martial arts dojo. I am dressed in a judogi wearing a dark green belt around my middle. I am with the sensei, and he is showing me a list of people who are up for their blue belt grading. In this schema, blue is below green. There are a lot of people due for grading and we, the higher grades, are to be uke to their tori. We know that gradings are about form and not real combat. We will be willingly thrown about by numerous people doing their gradings in order for them to learn.

I am up first with four people one from each direction. East, North, West and South.  The people are of ill-defined gender and wearing judogi already with a light blue belt, the colour of which they seek to upgrade. One by one they come to me and holding a fighting stance assume their left hand in an upper block, jodan-uke. I place my arm similarly wrist to wrist. We then start to apply force and ki. They are trying to hold their position. I let them match me for a while and continue to ramp up until I start to sense them falter. Knowing that this is not about me winning rather them having an experience, I ease back just before breaking point. I do this with the first three directions. The woman from the South has defined gender and when she comes up for stance there is no need, because we already understand each other.

I know that there are hundreds more to come in the grading session. On the mat practice continues and we know, the sensei and I, that they have never yet experienced full contact combat which is a game changer.

The dream ends.

Dreaming – I Don’t Mind What Happens

One can find Jiddu Krishnamurti quoted as saying that his secret is that he does not mind what happens. This implies a lack of any goal orientation, preferred outcome, expectation or attachment. He may have omitted, “I do not mind what happens to me.” If one lives in the eternal now there is no concern for past or future, simply moment. One is not chained by the manacles of “what if” or of “if only.” There is a confidence that one can handle everything which life and the universe offers, free of prejudice. Even if that seems unpleasant and challenging. One is confident in ability to improvise and cope.

I have talked about my medical conditions here, which would be rather dramatic for many. It is just a fact of life for me. OMG spinal surgery may be involved… He has seen a brain surgeon and is getting a cancer check up in May….

There is not too much drama in my mind. The pain can be a tad boring. I don’t think there is an exact translation into French. Monotonous is probably close but does not have the nuance.

I am not worried about what if anything happens to whatever it is that I may or may not know. The thought forms exist now and could be accessed in the web of life in due course. If and when the time is due. I don’t currently see a use for me. I am surplus.

The dreaming takes time, decades sometimes.

I have had the first hint, in the dream this morning, that the time in France maybe drawing to a close. There has not been much for me here. The French are not very pro-active. I am in no way integrated. There will be no significant material plane impact should I leave. Only the medics and the checkout ladies will notice.

I have a few more medical appointments programmed. Then, soon, it will be the big summer holidays. Unless the colonoscopy shows anything sinister, that will probably be it until the Autumn. I will get my asthma medication renewed in July. I am not anticipating any solution, any diagnosis and treatment that will result in significant alleviation of symptoms. It looks to me that I dotting and T crossing data collection is occurring.

Following on from the dream we have been looking at on-line estate agents again. Affordability coupled with relative southerly locations limits us to probably South and West Wales in the UK. The property situation in France remains constipated. We need proximity and communications to university grade hospitals.

The problem is that the world is swirling. The web of life has been whacked unnecessarily by orange-boi.  The Nikkei and the Hang Seng could tank further in a few short hours. This is a factor which is against any house moving.

A house move is the dreaming symbol for adopting a new view of the world. Here it is expansive, it has gotten too big. Perhaps the need is simply to shrink and consolidate.

We shall see what the dreaming suggests. It will influence our decisions significantly. The dreaming will show us the way.

I don’t mind what happens – the dreams will suffice.

Emily – Potions – Estate Agent Dream 06-04-2025

Here is this morning’s dream.

The dream is set in a slightly hectic environment. I am talking with various people and they keep mentioning someone whose remedies are good for the back and back pain. Her name is Emily Brouard {sounding brew – yard in the dream.} I am unsure if there is a Y in they name Brouyard. A number is associated with her 354321,{18} it is a partial telephone number. I see three recipes for potions / supplement / meals. One of which has small cubes of beetroot. From the internet I can download two full recipes from her and one for a snack. I am a bit sceptical but the people are insistent that she is good.

The scene changes and we are outside an estate agent in an English speaking town. The shop front is painted in a dark green colour and there are properties on display in the window. We look to go inside. It is locked. The wife notices on the door that it does not open until 2:30 in the afternoon. We are early. We think this odd as we are not in France with its lunchtime witching hour. We decide to go for a tour around the block in our car. The office is situated in / near an urban market hall with dark green painted bollards. In the dream one can feel the hubbub of market days and stalls being set up early in the morning. We drive around the one way system and find a small square the other side of the agency, in order to get through I drive the car over some of the small features designed to deter cars. There is a small clunk but no damage. We park up on the edge of the square under the dark green overhanging roof of the market area.

We go back into the agency and it is now crowded with a few staff at a serving counter and each is occupied with customers. There is a lot of noise. Finally, one of the agents gets free. A woman pushes in front of us to return her sterling cash deposit and key. A new agent comes to the desk,

She is middle aged and with dyed bleach-blonde hair. I put our folder of documents on the desk and immediately she is well disposed towards us because we are highly organised. I thumb through a number of property fliers with a dark green border on, the agency branding, and stop at one for a property which is just on the square to the back of the market. It is a town house. The woman says, “Ah, that is a good choice. Not to everyone’s taste but ideal for the right dwellers.” The word dweller stands out in the dream. I ask if we could visit the property. “Yes”. She picks up a massive bunch of keys.

The dream ends

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Notes:

On waking I do a Google search on the name in the dream and it points at a female Breton athlete who looks quite similar to a young woman who shared the waiting room for the MRI on Friday afternoon. They are not the same person. The feel is similar.

Das Glasperlenspiel – Reincarnation – Missing Pieces

It was not until I read Das Glasperlenspiel – The Glass Bead Game – that I gave much thought to past lives. Somehow the scope of the book and the Three Lives of Knecht appended caught my attention. Hesse was the first person whose mind was so comprehensive. At last. Somebody who thought a bit like me….

Based on the circumstantial evidence inter alia of dreams I can draw up a rough chronology of putative previous lives.

The more recent graph starts ~2500 years ago as a disciple of Siddartha, possibly with a named individual. In principle I may have heard the esoteric Kālacakra first hand. It then proceeds with two further Buddhist lives, one Theravada Thai/Burmese and one Vajrayana Japanese. This is followed by a Christian priest-soldier in France and a seeker / occultist in Sicily Italy. Finally, I incarnated as a proto-scientist in Wales.

Inspection of the chart shows two “gaps”. One of a thousand years and one of ~ six hundred. It does not mean that I did not incarnate then. One can conclude that no memory / data has yet come through for these periods. A thousand years is a big gap. Looks a bit iffy.

Being cynical there is little history written for the -500 to + 600 time period. Therefore, it is more difficult for me to fabricate an internally consistent story / legend / delusion for that period.

I can cobble together a satisfactory rough explanation for this graph. What I cannot explain, what perhaps is the missing piece, is the occurrence of all the Tibetan “stuff” in my dreams.

Speculating the most likely time for any “Tibetan” incarnation would be in the ~1200-1750 window.

No western “scientist” could publish a definitive claim for proof of reincarnation and expect a career of longevity, peer kudos and substantial research funding. A country {Tibet} can choose its leaders entirely on the basis of the Tulku phenomenon and “circumstantial” evidence.

The practice in London/Oxford/Cambridge differs from that in Lhasa and Shigatze.

Only very recently have I had imagery consistent with a Tibetan “maroon” life. I could have snuck one in before Wales.

We shall see what the dreaming brings….

Dream Follow Up 02-04-2025

After this morning’s dream I have been searching for an image stored on my computer. The image was crystal clear but I could not find it on my computer. It turns out the image was from a dream pertaining to this linked dream Kālacakra.

This dream pointed at my putative life, most recent, before this one. The image was very strong in my visual field.

The scene changes and I can see a man sat at a desk. On the desk is some parchment like paper, an ink well and a quill for writing. There is a small pile of books to one side. The man is clean shaven with fairly long grey hair parted in the middle.  I know that he wears this in a ponytail or bob when out socialising.  He has a kind European face and I know that his hair was once jet black. His eyes have a sparkle. He is wearing a white collarless shirt with the top button done up. The sleeves are blouson. This is informal, at home, attire. I know that the desk is mine and the man was me in my most recent life before this one. I am feeling emotional as I write this. I know his/my face now.”

I have found these 18th century images today:

1725 van Dijk


1745 Horemans


1787 van Strij


1798 Delfos


1801 van Strij


Tadgh Gwen – Geiriadur – Forerunner – Museum Dream 02-04-2025

Here are last night’s dreams the first was between 1.00 and 3:30 AM and the second more extensive though more jumbled dream around 5 AM.

The dream starts in an ill-defined place. There are no buildings or land or people. Somehow it is misty, foggy even. There is a sense of marshland, of primordial, of essence. Though none can be seen. I am having a “conversation” with a disembodied voice, a being of considerable power yet no form as we know it. He says that I am Tegwen Taig-Gwen Tadh-Gwen and Tadgh-Gwen. That I am in the Geiriadur, the dictionary, the tally of words. {Implicit is Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru.} There are many other names for me.

I know that gwen is white. I am white and of the white.

He says that I am the appetizer, the canapé, the hors d’oeuvre. I am the forerunner, the harbinger. One of only a very few. He says that I have borne the brunt and that there is more to come.

I wake up and take an Ibuprofen at around 3:30 AM to ease the back pain which I know is to follow soon.

I drift back off. I am now carrying an old cloth bound book which is in a state of disrepair. I can smell the book. I approach a reception desk in a university / museum setting. It is a bit like the V&A and Imperial College rolled into one. I speak with the woman on the desk who is dressed in serving black and whites with white gloves on. I say that I am looking for Dr X {I cannot recall the name}. She says that he has offices on the sub floor one. I can use the lift or the stairs. I know that I also have to visit sub-floors four and then seven.

I take the stairs down. I can see that sub floor one extends over all of the Exhibition Road area, underpinning all the museums and colleges, as well as the Albert Hall. The subterranean levels are vast and very extensive. There are galleries of books and files with dusty museum drawers. I make my way to the office. The door is open but he is not there. There is a lot of messy “horizontal filing”.

I let myself in and on a large Admiralty style table is a yellowed “Victorian” map yellowed about the edges. There is a steel rule and a set of geometry compasses. There is a second book which is companion to mine. I open it carefully with the steel ruler. The book opens on a page with mathematical symbols and matrices. I understand them to be spatial coordinates of places.

I go for a wander along the corridor. I find what looks to be a theatrical store of costumes, of clothing. I go in. The clothes are all for males. They are of a fashion from well over a century ago. There are breeches for riding and social. There is a pair of light red-magenta leather trousers, faded with age with hand shaped back pockets. There is a sudden realisation that these are my favourite trousers for when I used to ride. The wardrobe is in fact mine as is the office / desk / admiralty table.

I continue on down to the fourth sub floor. There is a large open gallery with military equipment. In the centre of the room is a display from which various staffs and pikes point out. There are more than a dozen such items all held like cocktail sticks in a lemon. With the shaft in an ornate metal holder. I select a large white-wood staff around six-feet in length. It has ornamentation on each end with metal inlays. I feel the familiar weight of the staff and find its centre of gravity. I start to twirl the staff and practise a stick form kata. There is a very Japanese vibe. Very quickly it becomes more familiar and faster.

I know in the dream that several people younger and fitter than me are coming to attack me. They have no idea about what I am capable of.

The dream shifts to a modern setting. I am sitting with M in a modern seminar room equipped with computers etc.. We are pouring over the mathematical notes and he is going to try to write some computer code to decipher them. I say to him that we must approach the notes from two angles, one scientific and the other seeing.

The dream ends.

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Notes

Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru – Welsh University Dictionary

Tegwen name – from teg (“fair”) +‎ gwen (“blessed”) in the 19th century.

Gwen – white, blessed, holy

Tadhg in Welsh is Taliesin or poet.

Taliesin is the seer poet initiate of Welsh history /myth. He is often seen as Myrddrin which the English have translated as Merlin and claimed the mythology as their own.

Cultural appropriation!!

Myrddin Wyllt (Welsh: —”Myrddin the Wild”, Cornish: Merdhyn Gwyls, Breton: Marzhin Gouez)

Mermaid’s Purse – Viviparous – Generational Language Difficulties Dreams – 28-03-2025

Here are last night’s dreams although not obvious they are somehow linked.

The dream starts with me looking down onto a white work surface. On it are two mermaid’s purse like egg sacks. They are shaped like ravioli, crimped and in quasi-translucent pink-yellow. They are very definitely alive and pulsing with a heartbeat. I cannot see the contents but I know they also contain parcels of knowledge. I have made them entirely hermaphroditically and must incubate them to fruition.

In turn I place one under the skin in my left arm pit and then my right armpit. There is a short umbilicus which protrudes into the arm pit. Otherwise, they appeared sealed into my body. The purse in my right armpit is more advanced and larger. It is this one which will hatch first. I know in the dream that I am now viviparous. The purses breathe through the umbilici. I must bear these and bring them to birth.

I wake for a visit.

The second part of the dreaming is set in a “trendy” clothes shop in London, somewhere like Kensington High Street. It is up market and youth. I have no idea how I got there. I am carrying an old pair of black Levi 501 jeans which have a few small holes between the legs in the crotch area. I need new jeans.

A young woman assistant comes to serve me. I explain that I need new jeans and show her my old ones. She leads me over to a display of jeans. The jeans all have stylised holes, rips and repairs in them.  I joke that I need not get some new jeans because mine are already ripped. She tolerates me. We look through the jeans and find some blue “baggies” which actually fit me. All the sizes are for skinny people. She takes the jeans with me to the cash desk.

When we arrive a young manicured and perfumed man is there. He asks me if I need anything else. I say because the holes in my jeans are where they are I might need some boxers. We all go to the underpants section. The array of colours is not to my liking, all colourful in autumnal shades and lovat. He leads me to the top of the range shelves and pulls out a pair of pants which have a “sock” or “willy warmer” for the penis. They look ridiculous. He is very self-important and praises them. I say that I do not like the penis pocket. It is stupid. He says that they are “punk”. I suggest to him that punk might have different generational meanings and that he has no idea what punk means. Real punk does not exist in his precious world. I say that it would be much more punk to wear no pants and risk my tackle falling out of or otherwise showing though the holes in my Levis. The young woman is both appalled and mildly aroused by what they both deem my gross comments. The man flounces off.

I go back to the till with the woman to buy the jeans.

I leave the shop and go into a boxing kit store. There one can buy normal black pants and ones with room for a plastic bollock guard. There is a sense of sanity there.

I know that the dream means my cultural refences are not transferable to the young of today and that I will have difficulties communicating with them. To them I am a crass ignorant dinosaur.

The dream ends.

Seb – Molecular Magnets – Dream – 27-03-2025

Here is this morning’s dream.

The dream starts in a very large house, in which there has been a party. There has been little clearance overnight. I am there with Seb and his mother. There are other members of his extended family and the caterers are now in tidying up.

I am in then kitchen with them. It seems that Seb has again fallen unwell and is on the merry-go-round of medical appointments. I ask him what the situation is. He is now a young man. When I knew him last, he was a teenager recovering from severe illness and using crutches to help him walk. He is now walking and dressed in expensive clothing befitting of his familial status. I remember in the dream that his family are complex and very high functioning. I ask him what the problem is. He says that he keeps getting headaches and they do not know what the problem is.

I say that perhaps he needs these. I draw for him a molecule in which an atom of Iron and of Cobalt are joined together by a 1,4 – dicyanobenezene molecule, an electron bridge. The nitrogen atoms act as electron pair donors. Both transition metals are otherwise inside a molecular clathrate cage structure. The overall charge of the molecular magnet can be varied from positive to negative. These are a new type of molecule and can help him with his headaches. These molecules can be made to move, rotate, in an external applied field. These molecular magnets can be therapeutic.

He nods.

His mother says that she has a video tape which she wants us to see. The first part of the videotape is of her buying the video recorder. It is old school VHS. She ushers us into a room where the recorder is set up with a TV. It has on it videos of me arriving at their house and of our tutorial sessions ~ a decade ago.

I remind him of my offer to help in any way that I can. That I may have a clue for him which will help to explain many things.

The dream ends.

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty and Fantasy

“The Secret Life of Walter Mitty” (1939) is a short story by James Thurber. The most famous of Thurber’s stories, it first appeared in The New Yorker on March 18, 1939, and was first collected in his book My World and Welcome to It (Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1942).

Plot

The short story deals with a vague and mild-mannered man who drives into Waterbury, Connecticut, with his wife for their regular weekly shopping and his wife’s visit to the beauty parlor. During this time, he has five heroic daydream episodes, each inspired by some detail of his mundane surroundings. The first is as a pilot of a U.S. Navy flying boat in a storm, followed by Mrs. Mitty’s complaint that Mitty is “driving too fast”. As he drives past a hospital, he imagines himself a magnificent surgeon performing a one-of-a-kind surgery. Later, a newsboy shouting about the “Waterbury Trial” begins Mitty’s third fantasy, as a deadly assassin testifying in a courtroom. While waiting for his wife, he picks up an old copy of Liberty, reading “Can Germany Conquer the World Through the Air?”, and begins his fourth daydream, as a Royal Air Force pilot volunteering for a daring suicide mission to bomb an ammunition dump. As the story ends, Mitty stands against a wall, smoking, and imagines himself facing a firing squad, “inscrutable to the last.”

Popular Culture

The character’s name has come into more general use to refer to an ineffectual dreamer and appears in several dictionaries. The American Heritage Dictionary defines a Walter Mitty as “an ordinary, often ineffectual person who indulges in fantastic daydreams of personal triumphs”. The most famous of Thurber’s inept male protagonists, the character is considered “the archetype for dreamy, hapless, Thurber Man”.

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Something struck his shoulder. “I’ve been looking all over this hotel for you,” said Mrs. Mitty. “Why do you have to hide in this old chair? How did you expect me to find you?” “Things close in,” said Walter Mitty vaguely. “What?” Mrs. Mitty said. “Did you get the what’s-its-name? The puppy biscuit? What’s in that box?” “Overshoes,” said Mitty. “Couldn’t you have put them on in the store?” “I was thinking,” said Walter Mitty. “Does it ever occur to you that I am sometimes thinking?” She looked at him. “I’m going to take your temperature when I get you home,” she said.

They went out through the revolving doors that made a faintly derisive whistling sound when you pushed them. It was two blocks to the parking lot. At the drugstore on the corner she said, “Wait here for me. I forgot something. I won’t be a minute.” She was more than a minute. Walter Mitty lighted a cigarette. It began to rain, rain with sleet in it. He stood up against the wall of the drugstore, smoking. . . . He put his shoulders back and his heels together. “To hell with the handkerchief,” said Walter Mitty scornfully. He took one last drag on his cigarette and snapped it away. Then, with that faint, fleeting smile playing about his lips, he faced the firing squad; erect and motionless, proud and disdainful, Walter Mitty the Undefeated, inscrutable to the last. 

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Fantasy-prone personality (FPP) is a disposition or personality trait in which a person experiences a lifelong, extensive, and deep involvement in fantasy. This disposition is an attempt, at least in part, to better describe “overactive imagination” or “living in a dream world”. An individual with this trait (termed a fantasizer) may have difficulty differentiating between fantasy and reality and may experience hallucinations, as well as self-suggested psychosomatic symptoms. Closely related psychological constructs include daydreaming, absorption and eidetic memory.

History

American psychologists Sheryl C. Wilson and Theodore X. Barber first identified FPP in 1981, said to apply to about 4% of the population. Besides identifying this trait, Wilson and Barber reported a number of childhood antecedents that likely laid the foundation for fantasy proneness in later life, such as, “a parent, grandparent, teacher, or friend who encouraged the reading of fairy tales, reinforced the child’s … fantasies, and treated the child’s dolls and stuffed animals in ways that encouraged the child to believe that they were alive.” They suggested that this trait was almost synonymous with those who responded dramatically to hypnotic induction, that is, “high hypnotizables”.

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Fantasy (psychology)

In psychology, fantasy is a broad range of mental experiences, mediated by the faculty of imagination in the human brain, and marked by an expression of certain desires through vivid mental imagery. Fantasies are generally associated with scenarios that are impossible or unlikely to happen.

Conscious fantasy

In everyday life, individuals often find their thoughts “pursue a series of fantasies concerning things they wish they could do or wish they had done … fantasies of control or of sovereign choice … daydreams.”

George Eman Vaillant in his study of defence mechanisms took as a central example of “an immature defence … fantasy — living in a ‘Walter Mitty’ dream world where you imagine you are successful and popular, instead of making real efforts to make friends and succeed at a job.”

Other researchers and theorists find that fantasy has beneficial elements — providing “small regressions and compensatory wish fulfilments which are recuperative in effect.” Research by Deirdre Barrett reports that people differ radically in the vividness, as well as frequency of fantasy, and that those who have the most elaborately developed fantasy life are often the people who make productive use of their imaginations in art, literature, or by being especially creative and innovative in more traditional professions.

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Narcissistic personality disorder

Two characteristics of someone with narcissistic personality disorder are:

  • A pervasive pattern of grandiosity (in fantasy or behavior)
  • A preoccupation with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love.

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From Wikipedia, the free encyclopaedia

Gelugpa Wrasse – Dreams and Snippets 21-02-2025

The first thing to say here is that what follows is inordinately difficult to verbalize.

Leading up to the last few days and despite numerous appearances of Tibetan based themes in dreaming I have been fairly certain that I have never had a Tibetan-Bhutanese-Nepalese incarnation. In whatever visions or dreams I have had with a Buddhist flavour I have never been wearing the maroon robes of that locality and certainly never any groovy hats.

Nevertheless, the tulku {or nirmāṇakāya} phenomenon has been resident at the periphery. I have never had the Mahayana urge or thought form pertaining to a bodhisattva training journey of coming back for the benefit of all sentient beings, to teach and to aid. This idealised wish form projected onto would be bodhisattvas seems a human thing and potentially prevents beings from leaving when they ought to be exiting the wheel of rebirth. “Please don’t leave us”, is not an empowering or enabling sentiment.

A few days ago, in the twilight between sleep and wakefulness I had a few images of me dressed in maroon monks robes with a yellow hat characteristic of the Gelug lineage of Tibetan Buddhism. I was surprised. It was a “turn up for the books” and does not fit with my hypothetical chronology. The only Tibetan stuff I have felt akin with are the tales of Chögyam Trungpa though I met at a distance Akong Rinpoche. Their relationship was complex if I understand it correctly. I have a hypothesis as to why Trungpa resonated.

What is safe to say is that the thought-forms associated with and to centuries old Buddhist traditions, studied and recited by thousands are firm, almost solid. The lineage has a “mind” all of its own, nurtured by devotees of and with a ruthless and tireless devotion. It exists in the mental and emotional space of humanity. People reciting and chanting for centuries make something almost tangible in a physical sense. The traditions and practice are kept vital and alive by regular enactment, quasi-archaic though they may be. They are alive.

Newtonian mechanics dominated the human psyche to be improved upon around a century ago for microscopic systems. Yet Newton is useful to this day in our everyday reality. These mechanics are a part of the mental space of humanity. They have merit. They work. There is a loose analogy.

This morning, I had a brief dreaming sequence in which I encountered a fish in a tank. The tank was large, beautiful and with coral. The fish was an ocean going wrasse. It introduced it self as a Gelugpa Wrasse. It told me that even if I had been previously associated with the Gelug, there was no place for me therein in this life. Such a thing would be way too disruptive. The wrasse was calm and relaxed. It was just conveying without colouration.

It said that way back in the 1990s in Switzerland there had been a possibility but life circumstances had scuppered that. “Not to worry”, it said. It showed me some images of Bern.

I struggled to hold more of the dream but the wrasse part remained clear. Fish is the dreaming symbol for awareness or the need to be wide awake. The wrasse was pretty enough though contained in a tank. It was not free.

I am not sure what to make of it.

Last night we watched the Netflix programme “Adolescence” in which life for a family changes dramatically overnight. It was very good and left one with a breathless reminder of how normality can be completely flipped in a matter of hours.

We have had a few flips over the years.

Freaky Friday, an equinox talking with fish again…