Water Spirit – Misogi – Clean Water Venture Dream 22-02-2026

Here is last night dreaming which is in two related parts.

The first part opens on the shores of an alpine lake high up in the Japanese mountains. The lake is shaped like a glacial corrie or cwm and is of a pristine light turquoise blue colour. The water is hyper transparent and crystal cold. The air is crisp. To the rear of the lake is a snow covered peak. The scenery is magnificent with Japanese acers and maples. The water from the lake leaves by a small stream over a waterfall cascade which drops twenty-thirty metres over rock to a small plunge pool. The sound of the small waterfall is melody. The ambience of the environment is close to perfection. The view down from the mountains is far reaching out to the sea.

It is ago something like a thousand years ago. I am on the shore dressed as a Buddhist priest. It is definitely me and I am Japanese. In the dream I know this to be my prior life. The smell is also characteristic of Japan. With me on the shore is a spirit warlord and a small retinue of spirit warriors. There is a Japanese woman who is of high noble family and she has her retinue of ladies in waiting and an armed guard. They are dressed in great finery. The Japanese woman is part water spirit, the nature spirit of the high lake and part woman. Because of this and her relationship with the Imperial family in Shintō she is considered the goddess of the pure waters and an embodiment of misogi or purification. The water is already pure but must also always be blessed. The spirit warlord is angry and the woman must choose to either join him back in the spirit world entirely or relinquish her spirit part and remain human. In a sense I am adjudicating.

The woman does not take kindly to the angry demands of the spirit warlord. She walks over to me and places my hand firmly on her genitals on top of her clothes. She then slips it though her clothes and I can feel her flesh. Forcefully holding my hand there she rubs herself against it until she orgasms. At which point she shudders and relinquishes her water spirit aspect. She has become human.

The warlord watching says, “so you have chosen!!” He heads off into the pristine forest with his retinue of warriors. I reclaim my hand and the woman is surrounded by her ladies in waiting who comfort her. After she recovers she asks me to do a ritual of purification, of misogi, using the waters of the lake. Although it is Shintō I know the ritual well. I have a bamboo bucket and a small bamboo ladle. Which I prepare for the ritual with water from the stream.

I wake up for a visit and a 3 AM ibuprofen.

I am now in a busy city {London} office building. It is just East of The Strand and I am due to meet some financiers / venture capitalists. They have been funding a high end water business. The idea is to create ultra niche very expensive bottled water which is ritually purified and attracts a premium price. I have been asked to look into their investment. I am with a woman in a business suit who is in a rush. She is a bit “doff your cap” to the investors and anxious. She ushers me into a room in which there a number of “suits” sat around a boardroom style expensive table. They tell me that there is a prototype purification set up and pilot line that they want me to inspect. It takes impure near sewage water and makes it top end. They know I am a chemist-scientist-technologist with an entrepreneurial background.

The scene changes and I am in a laboratory. There is a huge blown glass apparatus with many coils of glass tubing. There are two sand-clay filtration stages and a long flow tube with an ultraviolet laser photolyzing chemicals and killing residual bacteria. The throughput is small and this is what is worrying the finance people. I look at the rig and it seems fine to me. It is obvious however that if they start with such impure water the throughput must be very slow. Purification is a process that takes time and effort. If they want top-end water they must start with a source which is already very good, premium and which only needs a bacteriological cleanse.

I am due to present my findings to the committee. As I walk through the building I am told that it is shutting up for the weekend. That I need to close off the lab and give my keys to the people on the third floor. The financiers have pretty much decided that they are going to pull the plug on the investment. I know that they have totally missed the point. All they can see is high throughput. They cannot see the value of purified water blessed by the likes of me. That brand which we might call misogi can attract premium price.

I go through the emptying building and I cannot find the office where I am supposed to deposit the keys. The occupants have rushed off for their hedonistic weekend jollies of excess. I walk past the front security desk and leave the keys with the uniformed man on the desk. I exit via the revolving door onto a busy central London street.

The dreaming ends.

Tremendous Mess – Shenanigans – Disbelief Dream 20-02-2026

Here is last night’s dream. It follows on from yesterday. I have been unable to recall all the detail partially because I am not interested or inclined so to do. It is boring that this mess theme keeps coming back. I have made a note.

I am in a large old style house which has been converted into flats. I am in a flat which has a passing similarity to the one I had in Brixton. James is there with me in the kitchen and we are talking about his huge mess. There is a ring on the doorbell and Ashley is there with Camilla, they have been on a date despite the fact that Ashley is still married. They want to come in. It is raining very heavily outside. Everyone except me is highly emotional, charged.

I want to know why they have been on a date and it has to do with mess, the tremendous mess they caused concerning me. I say that I am not interested. I want to know why they thought they needed to tell me.

It gets a bit sketchy here. Then.

Ashley starts moving around the flat demonstrating that everything I have is second hand and does not really work well. He tries the gas cooker and the lighting function takes ages to work. He says that I am poor and that he cannot understand why that should be the case because I founded a technology company and raised a lot of money. It should not be like this. It does not make sense to him it is not fair in his eyes. I say that it is what it is.

I note that Camilla is in fact quite drunk. She has been in shenanigans with Ashley somehow. People have been inquiring about my past and that is why James has also cropped up. I know that they have both driven to my flat in their respective Mercedes cars. I tell Ashley that he must drive her home and I come back in with the steering wheel from Camilla’s car with the Mercedes logo on which I have removed. He argues. So I head butt him and he falls to the ground. I say that he needs to be real and to take responsibility.

He gets up and continues to find fault with my poor circumstance. He is being derogatory and negative. In the end they go off in his car. They then return and Ashley makes a dramatic entrance through the French windows. He makes an entrance through the net curtains against the heavy rain backdrop. He says that he has been talking with Susan S. who is also a party to this tremendous and far reaching mess. I can sense Susan through him. I can see her.

I say that it is late and that he had better take Camilla home and then drop James off at his flat which is just off the South circular. I say that I am bored with all the drama and that not everything has to make sense…

As I awake I think. “oh shit, not yet another dream with somebody else’s mess in!!”

Dragon’s Eyes –  Y Ddraig Goch

———–

Eyes closed,

In his homeland,

On the spare bed,

He exhaled.

Sunk into the depths of his being,

Waiting.

The darkness breaks

And…..

 –

Old,

Very old,

He saw it.

 –

He saw it,

Waiting.

Quickening of breath,

Huh, huh, huh,

It began to form.

Summoning the dragon to guide him.

Those eyes….

They watched him.

 Patience and waiting.

 

He touched its power,

Felt it absorb him,

His him probed with an awareness.

 –

Alien and ancient.

– 

Terror, blind terror.

– 

Lithe and poised

Those eyes….

 –

Wise beyond wisdom

Since the first days of man

And beyond.

 Amused and laughing,

In smoke.

 –

He held it and the fire in his heart

Began to burn.

 –

The crows outside called

Their battlefield cry,

Hungering for food

 –

Taken on the caw to another time.

——-

 Heathered hillside,

In the mist of lore

The dragon breath cloaks

Shimmering in be-coming.

 Hessian cloth upon his skin

Staff in his hand,

Rain in his beard

And silence in the world.

 –

Weary

Proud

Beaten

Defiant

– 

Behind him,

They marched,

From their deaths to their deaths,

– 

They reached the place

And settled on the rocks.

– 

Less faces than before

Heads hung on Castle gates.

– 

And those eyes.

– 

Why must they stand and die?

– 

Doubts, oh the doubts

They plagued him

– 

It hangs all on the next few seconds.

 The dragon’s dice have been rolled

His fate is sealed.

 –

What was it that the wizard said?

 “Re-member, re-member.

Focus on the feelings for that is what you store.

The memory will guide you back

Learn the lessons well….

 For next time”

 –

He reached into his pack and took it out.

He tied the flag to his staff.

Silently and into the circle he walked.

 –

He planted his staff and unfurled the flag.

 –

Y Ddraig Goch.

Look to the Dragon’s eyes my friends

And see there your courage, your faith and your hope.

Let it conjure in you.

Feel its ancient force.

Written in the hillsides and the valleys of your lives,

Washed through your rivers,

Permeating your being-ness with the dragon’s fire.

Pure magic.

If we believe, though we are few, we can call the dragon to our aid.

 –

We are an ancient race and we have been here long.

We have sung our songs and shared our poems.

We have laughed and we have cried.

We have learned.

 This is now our last battle.

———-

This from a series of dreams and visions I had around 2002-3…

Myrddin’s Treasures – Merlin’s Treasures


The warrior hunts for power, and one of the finest ways of hunting power is dreaming.

Dreams are not just dreams; dreams are based upon reality – a reality that exists beyond your thoughts.

Toltec Dreaming Aphorisms – Théun Mares


Myrddin’s Treasures.—Local tradition is content with leaving the story of the interval between Vortigern’s departure, and that of Myrddin’s, to pass into oblivion, but describes the manner of his leaving his famous stronghold in the following interesting way.

Myrddin remained in Dinas Emrys for some time, until he was joined by Aurelius Ambrosius, who induced him to go away with him. When they were about to set out, Myrddin placed all his treasures in a large golden vessel, hid the vessel and his golden chair in a cave in the city, and then rolled on the mouth of the cave a huge stone. He then covered the whole over with earth and green turf, so that no one could possibly come across it. It was his intention that this wealth should become the possession of some one in particular, belonging to a future generation. Tradition adds that the heir will be a golden-haired and blue-eyed stripling, and that when he draws nigh to Dinas Emrys, a bell will ring to invite him into the cave, which will open out, of its own accord, as soon as his foot touches it.

———–

Young Hopeful and Dinas Bell.—The story of the strange dreams of the old bachelor had raised great hopes within the breasts of his relatives, that one of their kin would be the destined heir of the ” great treasures.” One of his sisters had a son, who was a tall, fine-looking young man, and the very image of his uncle. When a child he used to frequently hear of his uncle’s strange dreams, and his boyish breast swelled with pride at the thought of his being one of the family of the “great treasures.” When the child grew up to be a young man, and people continually told him that he was almost exactly like his uncle, he used to wish every night that he would get the same dream, and see the same vision, as his uncle. He was far from being timid ; indeed, he seemed as if he had inherited his uncle’s share of courage in addition to his own. But with all his wishing, the dream never came.

One night, however, when passing the Dinas about midnight— the hour appointed for the rightful heir to enter into his inheritance,—when right opposite the middle of the hill, he thought he heard a bell ringing. He stopped, and he heard the bell ringing again. He became all ears, and, as he listened, he thought he could hear a voice calling, “Come here.” Then the bell rang the third time, and, leaping over the wall, he went in the direction of the sound. Now the bell began to ring in real earnest, and to move on before him. He followed after the sound through the trees, in the dark, as far as Beudy Bedd Owen, then through the hazel copse to the top of the hill, and in a field called ” Y Rofft,” the ringing ceased. He then paused to listen for a few minutes, and the bell began to ring and move on again. Once more he followed after it, and at last he seemed to be drawing nearer and nearer to the sound—a fact which greatly strengthened his faith that he was at last being led to the treasures. The ringing ceased right under the ridge which is immediately behind Hafod y Forth, and he had no doubt but that the cave was quite near. He made straight for the ridge ; but when he came up to the dark object in front of him, a black hand-fed calf gave a leap and darted by him, furiously rattling an old bell which hung by the cord around its neck. As he had never seen a calf carrying a bell, he immediately concluded that he had seen a ghost and ran home as fast as his feet could carry him. He related his experience to his family, who, when they understood what the midnight bell-ringer was, made endless fun of his folly.

The treasures are still hidden in the secret cave, and a jealous spirit keeps a continual watch on behalf of the rightful heir. Knowing this, can any one wonder at people trembling in passing Dinas Emrys by night, or at their feeling a cold perspiration trickling down their foreheads as what in the daytime would be a wood-pigeon whirls by them, or an owl gives forth a mournful cry—each of which at night-time is a ghost, the guardian spirit of the treasures of Dinas Emrys ?


  • Gold is the dreaming symbol for spirit or nagal.

Malta German – Cat – South African Problem – Rand Account – Dream 19-02-2026

Here are last night’s dreams. They are thematically divergent from the recent flow.

The wife and I are in Malta. We are wandering around a built up area with alleys off the main street it is possibly Valetta. We are looking for somewhere to have lunch. Down a side alley I see a chalked up slate easel menu board. We go to investigate. There is a Germanic old-school style café with pastries in the window, a bar and a few tables. The patron is a tall man with a white low apron and is sporting a full moustache. We look at the menu and go in. I go up to the counter and start to try to order in German. I am looking for a sausage in a long roll. There are several kinds. The man is very happy that I am trying German. In a mixture of mostly German and some English I complete my order, the wife orders in English. Soon the host comes over to our table with our food. Again we try German. It gets easier but I still cannot remember the German for sausage. The host is very happy with me and effusive.

I come to and I too am very happy, inordinately, that I was able to remember German in the dream. The word wurst comes to me and it makes me laugh. It is weird to be so happy about remembering German.

I drift back off and am in a veranda of sorts it is like a pod off the side of a house, with many facets, more sides than a hexagon. I don’t know whose veranda it is. Outside the garden runs down to a small river or brook. The veranda is in a bit of disrepair. The glass panels do not fit well. Outside on the window ledges is a cat. It is trying to get in to the veranda. As it moves to a gap in the window panes I readjust the panes so it cannot get it. This becomes something of a game between me and the cat. There will always be a gap because of the state of repair. We play this game for a long time.

I come to and wonder if the dream is pointing at some practical tasks that keep cropping up.

I drift off and am now in an office which is quite serious. I am looking at some paper work about extensive legal problems someone is having in South Africa. That person James cannot do anything about these problems whereas I might. The documentation is extensive and it is about a debt that he and others ran up. There are also share certificates and summons from courts. It is a huge mess and the paper trail is very extensive. There is a lawyer there who asks if I would like to help out. It looks like a minefield but I have the power to assist. I may be able to pay the fines to at least deal with the court summons. James is unaware of the dire situation he is in and the consequences thereof. He is not taking it seriously.

The scene changes and I am at an outside event with barbecues and an entertainment stage. Cars are parked around pub garden tables. It feels UK. There are people using the brai to cook. I have a sudden urge for an ice cream from one of the vans. I order one and go to pay. I cannot find my wallet. The man said I may have dropped it last night when I was drunk. I look on the floor in front of the van and find several wallets and several torches which I put on the ice cream van counter. One of them is my normal wallet. It is soaking wet. I open it and it is jammed full of pristine South African rand, mostly of high denomination. I peel off a few notes and hand the man a R80 note. Which he takes. He asks me about what I am going to do with all my dormant South African bank accounts. Many or which are full and could be filled from other South African sources. I say that I was planning on closing them down. He is now speaking in an Afrikaans accent and suggests that I let them fill up for a while and then decide what to do. If the account wants to fill with money where is the harm in that. I say to him that money and by extension power are not currently how I live. They seem distant. He laughs and say that despite this I still have a wallet crammed full of pristine soaking wet rand!!

The dream ends.

Food Mixer – Pilate – Carrier Pigeon Dream – 18-02-2026

Here is this morning’s short dream.  Here Pilate is a term for unwillingness to take responsibility and only going through the motions

The scene opens with the wife and I visiting a large upmarket store. I am carrying a swish food processor / mixer which we have recently bought. It is not working properly and does not do a good job of blending food. We go to the appropriate department and explain that we would like it fixed, or an alternative model or a refund. It is not our fault that this mixer is not working.

The person behind the desk takes it off us and takes some contact details. He is being officious in French and I can see that he is a reluctant “job’s worth” character.  Instead of wanting to help and please the customer he exudes “put upon” and “do I have to” almost sulking. Moreover he is arrogant towards us because we are “English”. I explain to him that I am very unhappy with the mixer and that they need to sort this out, quick-time. He gets increasingly surly and promises that someone will get in touch with us. From his manner I can tell that this is unlikely. He just wants us away from his desk, out of sight and out of mind. I will not hold my breath.

We go downstairs in the shop and find a cafeteria. We join the line, order and pay for coffees and sit at a table. Suddenly the ‘phone rings and it is someone in the electronic goods department saying that they have “fixed” the mixer. We finish our coffees and head back.

Several people are there around what was our mixer base but with a smaller volume mixing jug. They claim it now works. In a mixture of French and English I explain that the reason that we bought the bigger jug was for the larger volume. We already have a stick mixer for small volumes.

They are upset because they have not instantaneously solved the problem. One of the young Frenchmen puts a blender jug, which I know to be ours, on the mixer base. He claims that it is one from the stores. He loads it with some food including sweet corn. He turns it on and it appears to work. I know it is just rotating the mixture and only part liquifying it. He says, “look it is working”. I say to him that he had better pour the results out into a bowl. This he does. It contains some liquid and mostly unmixed food including sweet corn kernels. I say to him that the mixer does not work. He is adamant that it does. I asks him if the contents look well mixed. He says no. I ask him if he thinks the mixer works. He says yes a bit. We are at an impasse. He just wants us out of his shop and is unable to offer any way forward. We stand there in an awkward silence in which he gets increasingly uncomfortable. His colleagues have disappeared. They do not want to solve the problem they want rid of us. They want to wash their hands of it.

The scene fades. I am left with the strong visual image of a carrier pigeon with a small white message tube tied with two thin white cords to its left leg. The pigeon is in good condition and athletic looking. It is a messenger pigeon.

The dream ends.

Atlantean Artefacts – Karate -Scorpion Sting – Quantisation – Dream Snippets 15-02-2026

Here are last night’s dreams / snippets. I’ll hazard a guess that the juxtaposition is unique to me.

The dream opens is a large ornate voluminous room of a museum. The place is gilded and golden shiny in hue. It is a bit chavvy. The place is however filled with a luminous light golden radiance which not everyone can see. I understand the rooms to be filled with artefacts from the recently uncovered Atlantis. The interpretations of the archaeologists are all wrong because they never lived there. I am wandering around with a man who feels like a much younger version of Théun and with Adrian. They are showing me around. They are trying to impress me. We are having fun and marvelling.  We have the run of the place tonight. Amongst the collection are a number of geodes of startling beauty, some meteorites and some special meteorite-geodes. I know these were used to facilitate communication across distances. There are other things which are unknown to modern day but which seem familiar to me. The whole orientation of that society cannot be understood in terms of 21st century reasoning. I am aware that there are other Atlantean artefacts held in secret elsewhere in the world. There is a good chance that I can remember what their purpose and use was.  

The scene now changes to a modern office environment. Terry is there. He is trying to get me to do his bidding. I think that his ideas are foolish particularly with respect to Japan. He is getting increasingly agitated with me. He says, “I will show you”. He proceeds to attack me with a very rigid straight line / right angles form of power Karate. It is very easy to block, avoid and get out of the way. By my using a more fluid circular approach he is unable to land any punches or kicks in any meaningful way. This only increases his frustration and anger at me. He is positively seething. I think him a rigid arse, a dinosaur stuck in his mind and narrative.

The scene changes and I am out in the bright sunlit desert with people who are younger than me. They are lanky men, a few of them, all taller than me. Suddenly one of them with brown wavy hair and a slight  American accent yelps out in pain. He feels familiar to me. I can see he has a large scorpion attached to the arch of his right bare foot via the embedded sting. He is screaming in pain and thrashing about in panic. I go over to him and ask him to calm down. I sit him on a rock. Taking the large hand sized scorpion in my hand I try to pull the sting out of the tender arch of his foot. It will not budge. I conclude that the sting must have a fish hook like barb under the skin. It would ruin his foot to force it. I gesture to one of the others to get a plastic Tupperware like container. I pinch the tail of the sting between the thumb and forefingers of both hands holding the part near the sole unmoving I twist the scorpion so that the tail fractures and snaps. I hold in my hand the large scorpion and can see the residual sting head in the foot. I put the scorpion in the Tupperware and help the younger man hobble toward the 4X4 utility half truck vehicle. We are going to drive to the town to see the doctor replete with the scorpion for species identification purposes. The scorpion does not seem to be phased and is sitting calmly in the Tupperware. The younger man has calmed down as we sit him in the back of the ute.

The scene changes to a seminar room in a think tank in London. It is American tech. IT  funded and we are kicking ideas around. There are a lot of bright younger men and a few similar women. The meeting is being chaired by a young Bill Gates look alike figure with appropriate “Marks and Spencer” style jumper.

We are taking about the quantisation of optical transitions in molecules. I explain to him that I have never seen quantisation as being so rigid and step like, as it is deemed. I explain that I have seen these transitions as being a form of hyper resonance. These levels, these states are very favoured, highly resonant. But you can drive a resonance when slightly off the energy if the applied field is large enough or the theoretical linewidth bell shaped. People think only of rigid quantisation whereas a new formulation might be had with a fuzzy resonance type of approach. “Bill” says that he knows people who use ultrafast lasers to map out both ground and excited state potentials and that they have found a discomfort with the rigid quantisation approach too. He says that is what happens when you do inordinately difficult laser experiments. He is looking at a large A4 black and white map printout. He is trying to figure out where the funding has gone for this think tank and tries to locate it on the map. I suggest that he might look at Ireland. He says no. I look at the map again and can see Regent’s park and the beautiful posh stone terraces to the East of the park. I say that the map must be of central London.

The dream ends….

Vajrapani – Who Do You Think You Are – Dream – 13-02-2026

Last night we watched an episode of the TV programme “Who do you think you are?” in which diamond geezer and EastEnders TV actor Danny Dyer found out that he was related back via Thomas Cromwell to King Edward the Third. In a sense the second part of this is related to recapping a part of this life. During the day I downloaded and scan-read numerous Tantra texts from the 84000 Reading Room web site. It is not uncommon for me to do some meditation visualisations at the transition from fully awake to “asleep”. I started with what I call geometric Vajrapani as I drifted off.

As I ready for sleep I invoke and visualize a blue Vajrapani in a readiness pose, not full wrathful. I am invoking his protection. I start by visualizing him in each of the four cardinal compass points to our property. Starting in the East, then South, then West and finally North. There is a calm familiarity with the practice.

I notice the transition from “awake” to “asleep”.

Now without any physical house and garden refence points I see Vajrapani first close and then far. He is stocky, muscular and well powered. He is of a physical age of a well maintained 40 year old athlete. He is definitely lithe and athletic.

I then see him at each of the four cardinal point of a two dimensional compass circle. He then appears also at the minor cardinals such as SW. Until I am at the centre of a circle in which there are eight Vajrapani. The ones at the true cardinals are slightly larger.

The scene changes to three dimensional in which there are two extra global circles one North-South and the other East-West. These are at right angles to the initial plane. Where these circles intersect, vertically above me and vertically below me an additional Vajrapani appears. So that there two more true cardinal Vajrapani. The quasi cardinal points fill in with smaller Vajrapani giving and extra eight smaller Vajrapani and a total now of eighteen. The feeling is of a three axes gyroscope.

There is a sense of being cradled.

The scene now changes and I am sat with Vajrapani as a younger man with long jet black hair still blue hued. He is dressed informally in a light off the shoulder white toga like robe. We are under a weeping willow like tree by the banks of a small gently flowing river. We are sat facing each other on the grass. He is very relaxed, beaming with an inner light, and it is as if we are having a picnic on the grass together though we are not eating. We are conversing without words mind to mind and are well en rapport with each other. In the dream our relationship is fraternal friendly. We know that my secondary predilection is for the light of the East.  Between us is a shared knowledge of the Nagas. For a very pleasant while we sit enjoying the shade of the tree, the grassy lawn, the sound of the river, and the sparkling light of the sun reflecting therefrom. He is now always “available”.

I awake for a loo visit it is around 3:15 AM. I have an upset stomach which is telling me that I need to now cut something out of my post operative diet. I go downstairs and watch a bit of You Tube. I somehow know that it is near dawn in Northern India and Bhutan.

I go back to bed and to sleep.

I am now with the wife in the dining hall of Wycliffe College prep school. We are sat at high table with the headmaster. He is talking with us. I explain to him that it is good to revisit and that I was last here around 57 or 58. I do the maths and realised it must be 1977-8.

The scene changes and we are walking up then hill to Tiley field which used to be the athletics track. It was here that I used to run 800 and 1500 metres barefoot, sometimes for the school. I enjoyed the grass under my feet. There are a few younger people there and the use of the field has changed. The scene changes to an indoor swimming pool I am there with some teenagers from the upper school. Then we are back in the dining room.

I explain that because of my date of birth I was able to stay down and enter the scholarship class where I won the science exhibition to the school proper. I wonder if there are any records or photos of my time there. I know that there is at least one whole school photo in which I am.

The headmaster talks about how the alumni are helping to fund a school project. He gestures and someone brings an old style land line ‘phone in an olive green plastic. The ‘phone is bulky and wired in. He places it on the dinner table in front of me and gestures for me to pick it up. I know that it will have the alumni and fund raising office at the other end.

The ‘phone then looms large on the table and I wonder if the dream is telling me to make contact with my old school. Maybe they can throw some light on things. I remember that when I was there I was in trouble and had difficulty settling in. Perhaps something interesting happened about which there are records?

The wife and I look at each other knowing that the headmaster is simply doing his job as a fundraiser but also that there may be something important which he is missing by a mile.

The dreaming ends and I come to. My initial thought was that it was a nice change to have nice dreams.

Medical – Mistaken Identity – Language Choice Dream 12-02-2026

Here is the second of last night’s dreaming snippets.

The dream starts in a waiting room of a seemingly English medical practice. I am sat there next to a rack of magazines and a large window sill upon which is a green indoor plant. In walk two nurses, dressed in old fashioned white nurse uniform with little white cardboard “hats” pinned into their hair. They are chatting loudly and are white corpulent of build. One of them is older than the other. They are not strangers to food. The older nurse comes up to me and asks me, “what drives people (you) to strong drink?”

I have never been  much of a spirits sort of person. So I wonder why she is asking me about strong drink. I think. I then say that it is most likely peer influence that pushes one towards strong drink, that or partners. The two nurses look at each other and exchange conspiratory looks. They move through the waiting room and into another room, giggling slightly.

In walks a man who says a loud hello to the receptionist and comes into the waiting room. He is a doctor but somehow is dressed like a catholic priest with black shirt and white dog collar. He is about my age, ruddy of complexion and with unkempt fair hair and balding pate. He claims me as a long lost friend of his. I have never seen him before. He continues to claim me as a friend recounting some exploits we are supposed to have done together. The man is clearly mistaken and possibly intoxicated. I say to him that he is mistaken. He says no he is certain that he remembers me and knows who I am. I say no he is mistaken. He will not accept this. I then say that he is wrong and has mistaken me in French. He is now usure because of the change of language. He gets up and follows the nurses into the room.

I am called into a doctor’s office. The wife comes with me and we sit across the desk from a dark haired query Hispanic woman of around 50 years. Under her white lab coat she has a bright red floral design dress. She has a stethoscope around her neck. She proceeds to ask me what ails me in English. I reply and she looks non-plussed. This goes on for some while. I say to her,

« Nous pouvons parler en français »

At which she relaxes and the consultation continues in French with ease. She writes me a prescription for my normal medication. As we are about to leave she pulls out a packet of cigarettes and takes one for herself. She sparks up. She offers me a cigarette and I decline saying that I don’t smoke. I think it odd that the doctor is smoking in her office.

We then go to a pharmacy in an arcade. It is very busy and the green pharmacy sign outside is bright. There is a queue in the pharmacy. There is a young man and a young woman in lab coats. They see the name on my prescription and try to speak to me in English. They are trying to show off to some of the other customers. The transaction is very slow. So I switch to French  and then everything progresses well and quickly.

The dream ends.