Chemistry – DMABN – Oxford – Dream 14-11-2025

Here is this morning’s dream.  I have no idea where this came from.

The dream starts in a Chemistry laboratory with wooden lab top benches but otherwise modern services supplied. On the bench in the water bath of a rotary evaporator is a round bottom flask it is being rotated by the evaporator mechanism. There is a thermometer in the water bath and I can see a liquid in which a white compound is partially dissolved. It is dissolving. I am with a man in a white lab coat. I note that he is not wearing safety specs. He asks me what I think the intermolecular forces are in compound being dissolved. He says that at one end it has a cyano group. So I suggest that there may be a dipole involved. In a nearby tank is another flask similarly set up. He says that molecule also has a methyl group meta to the cyano on a benzene ring. I say that that would mess with the orientation of the dipole. He comes back to the near flask and says that para to the cyano group is a dimethylamino group. I say that given the push-pull effect that the intermolecular forces are probably dipole dominant but that there may also be significant hydrogen bonding with solvent at the amino end. I say that it is dimethyl-amino-benzonitrile DMABN. He says yes. He asks me what the reactivity would be. I suggest that maybe the ortho positions might be weakly reactive. I say that in a prior life I knew a bit about DMABN and that it can form TICT, twisted intramolecular charge transfer states in solvents of the right polarity. I probably know more about this molecule than is necessary.

I show him a reaction vessel on one bench. It is on a stirrer-hotplate and the flask is not stoppered. On the next bench behind me is  similar flask. The liquids in each are being stirred and one can see a mild vortex in the centres. I suggest he watches the far flask. I take a small pipette and add some liquid to the first flask. On addition a faint pink colour appears which fades. In the far flask a UV-purple colour appears. I say to look at the UV. He says it must be blue for us to see. I say OK look at the emission from that flask a part of which is just inside the blue edge of the visible spectrum. It is a form of unknown chemical transference. A type of remote chemiluminescence. He is surprised.

I am joined by a man roughly my age in a tweed like suit he ushers me off around the building. We are in one room in which a young man is brought in with two academics. He is to have a Ph.D. viva. I wish him good luck and we leave. I am then shown various offices and the underground chemistry stores. I can see banks of gas cylinders and empty basement rooms. He takes me back to the lab. I am there advised to put written labels on the experiment I have going, there are now new lab protocols. Ok I agree and write some out to be fixed to the bench. They ask me when was the last time I made a molecule. I say it must have been when I was ~22 say around 1986. I wanted a molecule that could not be bought so I had a go at making it myself.

I am told that I will need to participate in the Oxford chemistry outreach day due soon. I can use my fancy new experiment or see the man in the teaching labs downstairs. I am escorted down there thinking he might have something on molecular spectroscopy. This would be much easier and safer for me.

As we are going down the back stairs to the teaching labs it suddenly occurs to me that in some weird surreptitious way I am having an interview, I am being interviewed, implicit is for a job. I think to myself that this is fucking weird and that there is no way that I could teach nor could there ever be a sensible fit. Something is being manufactured, cobbled together, in a roundabout tortuous way. It does not bode well. It is a bit daft.

As the dream ends I come to thinking WTF, where did that come from?

Nord Holland – Fürstenberg – Clones – Snatch Team – Dream – 12-11-2025

Here is this morning’s dream. Like many others it comes out of the blue.

The dream opens with me looking at a map of Noord-Holland, with a bit of Friesland and Zwolle. In the dream I hear Nord Holland but the map has the entire area including the islands of to the north and the large inlet. It is a warm sunny day in a small village or town. I am following discreet tidy signs to the “Bahnhof” or train station. I don’t know why but the word looks out of context for the Dutch environment. I follow the signs into a very small quaint train station and board a tiny local train. I need to get to Fuhrstenberg or Fürstenberg. The train will take me into a much large nodal communication hub.

I am sat on a bench in the train and at the next large stop am joined by Anita and two Japanese men in black salary man suits. They have been to an academic conference nearby. There is a lot of technology and high tech industry in the area. She is pleased to see me and I her. We talk briefly about the conference she has been to and that I am travelling to Fürstenberg. I do not know the way yet but am sure that I can figure it out at the major Haupt-Bahnhof. I alight at the big station and they continue on to the airport.

When I arrive I get off at the train station concours. It is European. It is heaving with commuters at rush hour. I look at various schematic train line maps and am none the wiser. There is an information centre with computer terminals. The signage is in roman script  and Japanese. I stand at a computer terminal next to a Japanese man and show him how to change the language options. I enter Furstenberg in the search engine and it shows a simple two stage train journey to get there. I will have to make one change and wait there a little then I will get to my destination. It will be a few hours.

I go up to the ticket barriers and note just how very crowded they are. I have purchased the on-going tickets for my journey. I look up to the station clock and can see from the hands that I have some time to wait before departure. I decide to go into a cafeteria. I sit at an old-school sixties US diner table with my coffee and a newspaper. It has bum-sticker plastic chairs and a red Formica top. There is a metallic edge protector all around. I am joined by a man in a light blue sixties style “Mormon” suit with thin lapels. He is wearing winkle picker shoes. He also has a newspaper. We look up and catch each other’s gaze. He is like a young George Peppard with very blue piercing eyes. The eyes are startling. He has immaculate blonde hair. On his lapel I can see a pin badge with what looks like a Renault diamond motif and a vertical bar going through the diamond. {Post hoc query masonic?} It is at most one centimetre in size. Having caught eyes we return to our newspapers.

He then speaks. He reaches over and pins a similar badge to my lapel. He says that it is a tracker jammer and that it should buy us a little time. He gestures down to the watch on my right wrist. It is a metallic watch with a metallic strap, the type that I would never buy, very Del-boy. He asks where I got this. I say that it was a gift. He says that they are using it to track me. Now the signal has stopped they will arrive in person. I note an Indian looking woman on a nearby table is working with “George”.

A team of people come in the cafeteria door and head towards us. Among the team are two young men with albino like colouration who are twins. I think them to be clones. There is another one identical in the team. They are a snatch team. The twins come to try to grab hold of me. I grab the head of each in my arms in a headlock. I have one clone under each arm. I lift them up, raising my elbows so that I am holding them by their heads. I have their full weight in the crook  of my arms. I can feel their necks snap. “George” lets off a flash-bang distraction grenade and the Indian woman heads towards a fire door hotly pursued by the other clone. She manages to open the door and is followed through by the clone who she fights off. She jumps onto the back of a hood down old-style Mercedes convertible and is joined by the clone. They wrestle there as the car speeds off.

There is mayhem in the cafeteria. I stand in the open fire door and watch as there is a kerfuffle involving “George” and the snatch team. I take the wristwatch off and throw it into a bin.  

As I come to I think “Oh shit not yet another spy dream. That is what you get for watching the first episode of Killing Eve!”.

The dream ends.

Rugby – Nonplussed – Dream 11-11-2025

This dream was the first in which a general feeling of being nonplussed or bewildered occurred. I also note that I forgot to take my middle of the night pain relief. Which too is unusual.

The dream opens on a rugby playing field not dissimilar to London Welsh training ground at Old Deer Park. I am part of an English speaking rugby team playing a match against a French team. It is a friendly and of a social rugby nature, not high calibre or intensity. In the dream I am able to run. We are all quite muddy because the pitch is wet and is cutting up. We are in the French half and after a rolling forwards move I go over for a try near the corner. Someone kicks the conversion.

It comes time for the French to kick off. Everyone stands around waiting. The French team are not really organising themselves for a kick chase nor is our team getting ready to receive. People are standing around aimlessly, lacking in direction. For some reason the game has spontaneously come to an end. People are very nonplussed as to what is happening and why. There is a sense of mild bewilderment that this inertia has stopped play. People mill around not knowing what to do. Everyone is kind of shrugging their shoulders confused as to what has happened, what is happening.

Slowly we diffuse off the field and into the changing rooms. The match is incomplete. There is a sense we will meet in the clubhouse afterwards to debrief. Something which was currently “in play” has come to a confusing and unexpected end. The feeling of nonplussed pervades.

The dream ends..

Number 32 – Real Life – Dream 09-11-2025

Here is this morning’s dream. It pertains, perhaps, to a situation we have been mulling over in “real” life. We have been looking into a “where” for the needed downsize of accommodation. In a sense we have been waiting for some guidance from dreams.

The dream opens in a corridor of very large building filled with flats, apartments. We are on a mid to upper floor with grey hard wearing carpet. In front of us is a white painted panelled wooden door with a round knob handle at waist height. It is modern. On it are the numbers 3 and 2, 32. It is flat 32. I approach the door and push it gently. It opens and we go inside. The flat is modern and painted mostly white. There is a mirror and small table in the hall, together with a coat stand. We explore and see a good sized lounge, a kitchen, a dining room with small balcony which looks out over the red-brick exterior of the building and grounds. The building is like Royal Holloway founder’s building only with more floors.

As we are exploring we hear a key in the lock and in walk a younger couple. The woman is tall, similar to Amy from “The Big Bang Theory” her partner is smaller and skinny like a cyclist. She is in charge. They are unsurprised to see us as the apartment is having viewings in order to sell it. They ask us what we think. We say that it is nice but need to understand the building better.

The woman says that they are thinking of moving near Cardiff for her job but that accommodation in Cardiff itself is a bit pricey. I explain that we have explored there to. The basic story is that if you go north of the M4 the price drops and if you go up into valleys it gets lower reflecting both the travel time and the neighbourhood. I say that I personally am quite keen on The Vale of Glamorgan. She says thank you for the pointers. They say that they don’t fit in here because of their age.They are too young. We leave the flat and go into the corridor.

In the dream I note that the number is 32 and know this to be a dark jewel one that I am unfamiliar with to the extent that I cannot recall what it is. I resolve to look it up on waking. I wonder in the dream {and now writing} why the dark jewel 32 {disharmony} is highlighted.

We exit the building and stand back in the grounds. It looks imposing like the Celtic Manor resort near Newport, though internally more complex as above.

We walk up towards the main entrance which is a staircase over a moat like structure and enter the main atrium. It is high ceilinged and has reddish pub carpet and wood panelling. In the back we can see a canteen come restaurant operating. We can smell food. It has a flavour of school dinners / Oxford college catering. There are “cloches” over some of the plates. We go up to inspect the menu / price list. The food is all “English” and I note bland. It is reasonably priced.

We explore a little further and come upon another large space in which there is a meeting to one side. The wife sits down to listen in. It is a “University of the Third Age” type presentation. The audience is all our age or older. They are more expensively dressed than us and largely English.

I go to sit in a bar like area with sofas and tables. There are several “posh old bird” women there with drinks and dogs. The smell of intense perfume pervades. A female lurcher dog comes to explore me and sits with her paws on my foot and her head just above my lap. She is wanting attention. She has decided on me. She sits immobile.

To one side there is a “hunting – country” woman with a fluffy Lassie long haired collie. She comments that I have made a friend. She is being flirty with me. She gets up and her friend who owns the lurcher joins her. They head off to the lifts. It takes some coercion with dog treats to get the lurcher to leave me.

Exploring further we come upon a residents action group where a bunch of people, residents of the building, are up in arms about something. We see that the social life of the building is very active and lively. There are piss ups and dances.

We go to the activities notice board and see that you can get self-drive boats to go down the river to the weir and back. Ther are fishing rights in the river which flows under the moat. It is all a bit “Thursday Murder Club”.

The flat was nice enough.

The dream ends and I remain largely puzzled as why 32 should make an appearance. On writing I do not personally feel any sense of disharmony with our life and our surroundings.

Chinese Wedding – Unheeded Advice – Dream Snippet – 07-11-2025

Here is this morning’s short dream.

The dream opens at a formal wedding scene between a powerful male dignitary and a younger woman. In a sacerdotal role I am officiating at the wedding. I am doing the wedding service. The wedding is both political and lust based on behalf of the male. The scene is very “Chinese”.  Both protagonists are Chinese looking and the guests are extensive in number and expensive in dress. I am wearing an ornate priestly tunic with a small very neat black hat. My black hair is in a neat long plaited pony-tail / pig tail down my back. I can feel though not see some facial hair. It is around two thousand years ago. We are on a raised dais / stage. There is pomp and circumstance.

I am officiating at the wedding under some duress. This is because the wedding is going ahead against all my advice. I have consulted the oracles, the I Ching and the council. The wedding is decidedly inauspicious and all the pointers both rational and non rational have advised strongly against it. I have made my advice clear to the powerful man on several occasions and in serval different ways. He has insisted on going ahead with the wedding. I recognise the feel of this man as someone whom I know in this life. The I Ching has been very explicit that under no circumstance should it go ahead.

In the dream I can see disaster after disaster occurring because of the wedding. His family breaks up and there are wars. These are all caused by the decision to go against my advice. He blames me forgetting that I told him explicitly not to go ahead. He is very angry with me for his arrogant mistake.

As I am coming to, the “Chinese” theme makes sense of my interest in I Ching.

The dream ends and I wonder if this a missing piece of the reincarnation puzzle.

Unusual – Golden Calligraphy – Protector – Dream 05-11-2025

Here is this morning’s dream. It is deemed unusual not for content by for the realism and quality of the indoor decors. They are very life like and top-end.

The dream opens in an upper floor kitchen of a multi-story building. It is white luminous and a mixture of natural and electrical lighting. I am sat at a white sided kitchen island with a wooden top. The finish on the wood has a light reddish mostly brown hue. It has the quality of fine cabinet Walnut but isn’t that. It is a “redwood” of sorts. I am on a tall stool sat to the island. In front of me on the wood is a paper napkin whose quality is like finest linen. It has the feel of magician’s white gloves. As I watch an iridescent golden script, a calligraphy, appears. It is in no language I recognise. Yet I can understand the script phonetically to be “estaf” or “eraph”. I joke that it is Gloria Estefan and the Miamai Sound Machine. I hear in the dream an Estefan song followed by “Despacito” on solo Spanish guitar. I realise that the script is in fact Angelic script and that the “s” is silent phonetically therein. Thus the word is seraph of seraphim. I place the now silky-linen cloth in to my left hand shirt pocket after having inhaled it while lovingly holding it in both hands. It is close to my heart.

I am joined by the wife and one of her friends. The women is not one of her known friends. We are sitting in the kitchen which leads out onto an elevated decking balcony. The garden furniture is lovely as is the rest of the kitchen. They are drinking white wine from ultra-thin expensive wine glasses. I go out to smoke on the balcony and then join them back in the kitchen. I show the friend my cloth with the Angelic writing on.

The scene changes and the woman is joined on the balcony by her sister who lives nearby. They are discussing television programmes. I am now in a deep white bath on a raised pedestal in a state of the art bathroom. The bath has a sealing door for disabled access. The wife and her friend are sat in a window seat in the bathroom which has polished wooden flooring, sanded ultra smooth. I get out of the bath with a semi caused by the warm water and go to reach a nearby white towel. I am dripping wet. The friend is at first embarrassed. I say not to worry I am very happy being totally naked I have nothing to hide. This is natural. I take a towel and dry myself off.

The owners of the building are arriving at the  external staircase to the white “mansion” side. They are coming through the door. They are a couple and two young males, late adolescent. I have been tutoring the boys. We should not be here. I go down to meet them and say that I know we should not be here. We are leaving. I understand that they may no longer want me to teach the lads and that my contract is ended. If however on reflection they change their mind they have my number. They do not seem able to speak out of surprise. We file past them out of the building and into the street. My effusiveness has diffused the situation.

The scene changes and I am in the attic / penthouse of a multistorey city building, maybe half a dozen floors high. The feel is European and the roof is made of grey metal sheeting, maybe lead. It is an original feature hundreds of years old. I am with a number of people and thinking about jumping from the building to the one on the opposite side of the street. There are a number of people there. I say that it is safe for me because I have my protector(s). I gesture out of the window to a man-like being hunched up like a bird sitting perched on the guttering. He has black slicked back hair and olive skin. He is juggling with many balls slightly smaller than a cricket ball. They are multi-coloured. There are blue, yellow, red and golden balls. Each ball is a little like a snooker one in weight. They have an iridescence. He throws balls across the gap between the building and they bounce back. He catches them. We look down and see people and cars in the street below. It is a European capital.

The scene changes and I am in right hand drive VW minibus / camper ban. It is being driven by a large English woman with long hair. She is a bit jolly hockey sticks librarian. We are winding around near single files streets in a village perched high. I joke it is Highgate. I say to take it easy the locals are accustomed to the streets she not. We are looking for a parking place outside the white mansion from before. There are none. I suggest we drive past. We do and then have to make a U turn. She pulls up in  a cliff top viewing point. There is no safety rail. The “car park” goes off the cliff. She parks and I pull the hand brake up an extra notch for safety.  She is very nervous. Below us we can see the city panorama amidst green covered peaks and with little white fluffy clouds. We are thousands of metres up and the city is below us. It looks a bit like Rio de Janeiro from the air. I suggest we get out the van and walk back to the building.

The dream ends and I note it as a change in dreaming, it is unusual.

Prodigal Son – Rastafari – Dream 10-01-22

One from the vaults…

Here is one of my three dreaming segments from last night…

I am sat with others in a circle on small individual chairs. The feeling is like some kind of group discussion / therapy. We are discussing the prodigal son. Fi gets up and says that the parable is all about profligacy and sin. She maintains that the son in question is wasteful and does not respect material things. I say that the prodigal son sees the lack of value amongst the material things after his many incarnations. He develops humility and is no longer drawn to the earthly. Hence, he returns to the father, the source. Nevertheless, normal humanity sees only the materiality and deeply resents the prodigal for wasting that to which they are attached.

A little while later I am walking through the centre and bump into a Rastafarian who is younger than me and has bright shiny eyes. He asks if I am the dude who defended the prodigal son? Yes. He asks if I know the true meaning of Melchizedek. Yes. I explain to him that for quite a while I was drawn to Rastafarian mysticism. He asks me to lend him a cd. I go over to my pile. We are now somehow in Brixton. I explain to him that I used to live here a long while ago. I shuffle through my CDs and find Prodigal Son by Steel Pulse. Jah Rastafari.

I move around the centre and am broadly accepted by everyone there. Word has gotten around about me. I try to leave the centre and follow a winding spiral staircase which goes through various flats. I arrive at a back door. I open it and step outside. Now I am being chased by a young black guy. I stop and say, “hit me if you wish. I meant no harm.” He considers this for a moment and then says, “nah, just don’t do it again.” He walks off.

In the dream I know that this is advising me that although the familiar is tempting going back to old haunts does not really work.

Dream ends.