Tag: #dreamyoga

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

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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

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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

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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.

Car Break In – Dream – 12-02-2026

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Here is one of last night’s dream snippets continuing the car theme and in which I use uncharacteristic language.

The dream starts with me upstairs in a warehouse conversion type space with ornate metal ceiling pillars and open stonework. The floor is wooden and polished. The room is large and I am alone. Downstairs is an up market shopping arcade with a Covent Garden vibe though much calmer and perhaps classier. There is nobody about. It is early morning.

I leave the room and go down though the arcade to my car which is parked just outside on the street. It is a bit like my old Mitsubishi Colt but more old school Jaguar E-type in shape. It has a long bonnet and is very sporty it is orange-red in colour. It is similar to a hard top Ferrari 250 but not quite Ferrari red. It is sporty and fast.

I can see someone ferreting around in the back of my car with the left door open.

I shout out, “Oi, cunt-face get out of my car!!”

A tall gangly man gets out of the car. He is very dark haired and has a pock marked face. He is a wrong-un and oozes a bit of menace. He says that he did not take anything. All that he found was this. He hands me a white cigarette packet which is open and in which are two disposable lighters. I take this he says that he found this in the back seat.

He then moves to attack me. But I use footwork to step out of the way and block his lunge with my left arm in a brush block. He steps past me. He lunges again and I once again avoid.

He pauses and decides if to attack me again.

I say to him that he had better think carefully about what he is doing because if he attacks again I will not hold back. At the moment no harm has been done.

He turns and walks away. Again I get the feeling that he is a wrong-un and no respecter of natural {emphasis here} law. There is a feel of evil about him, he is like a movie villain.

The dream ends.

Two Mistakes -Academic Conference – Yet More Car Crashes – Dream – 10-02-2026

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Here is last night’s dream. If follows on from the three “real” world car crashes we have had outside our house and into our drive. Two of which were quite spectacular.

The dream opens in some kind of conference centre on an underground floor leading to modern lecture theatres. It is in the UK query London. People are milling about. There are reception desks with badges on lanyards and others with promotional literature. There are a couple of stand up banners. People are gathering, relatively smartly dressed for an “important” conference or meeting. They are mostly younger than me some around two decades so, the next generation. The feel is modern. I am there but not there. I am observing but not fully present. In the dream I think it will be interesting to see how things are done these days.

We all go in and I take a seat a few rows back from the front. The first speaker, a woman, starts a scientific talk in which there is a lot of show or glitz and little content. There is a glaring mistake early on because she has failed to research properly. A beginner would know this to be wrong. At the end to my surprise the applause is enthusiastic and congratulatory. I am wondering why, there was no substance. The second speaker is a male, suited. He is introduced as being a big cheese. His talk is also full of pizzazz but I struggle to find any information, genuine novelty or substance therein. He asserts on a number of things which I know to be very wrong and entirely inaccurate, a schoolboy error perhaps propagated from a bad source. Again to my surprise there is enthusiastic applause. I think to myself that standards must have dropped a great deal.

There is a coffee break and I am met by some younger people and organisers. They ask me what I think. I say that the standards have changed and that you cannot talk about these things without mentioning activation energies. I say that I am surprised. It is all showy and kind of ends there. I say there have been two very obvious mistakes, glaring even.

We go back in and another speaker starts and his slide pack does indeed have a graph of activation energy but it is so utterly complex as to be impenetrable. I am pretty sure that he does not know what he is trying to convey, what he is talking about and is simply trying to appear clever.

Later I return to my apartment. People from the conference and the organisers are in the flat below which is much smaller than mine. They are having drinks, a kind of post conference party. I tidy my flat up a bit and find some bottles of aged single malt Scotch whisky. I go down stairs and say to them if they want to spread out a bit they can use my flat for the gathering, there are nibbles and high quality vintage Scotch.

They start to file upstairs. I am looking out of the kitchen window onto the parking area below. Up pull two very large truck rescue vehicles one red, one blue. They are each towing a large wheel base mini-bus. These have been involved in serious accidents and are badly crashed up. They relate to the conference. I know that they represent group consciousness, group awarenesses. The drivers unhitch the crashed minibuses and come up the steps to my door. They want to hand over paperwork for the crashed minibuses. I say that they are not my minibuses, they do not belong to me. The drivers say that they know that. But that he have been advised to leave the buses here overnight. I can report this to the police in the morning and have them towed. I say that I do not want them there. They insist and hand over the paperwork. In the dream I think, “oh no not yet more car crashes!”

I awake the dream ends.

  • Cars and vehicles are the dreaming symbol for state of awareness. These are not mine.

US Event – Wrong Table – Dream 07-02-2026

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

The dream opens in some kind of US led event, possibly at the London embassy or some swish London hotel. It is in some kind of meeting of delegates and in hurried response to one of Trump’s “great ideas”. The whole thing is rushed, last minute and cobbled together. The staff have done a great job of preparing the banquet with a long rectangular top table seated on one side only and subsidiary tables. The Americans have sent a delegation most of whom are MAGA loyalists. At right angles to top table there are the other long tables seated on both sides.

I find myself sat on one of these tables very close to the end which abuts top table. To my left is an English MP query Wes Streeting and to my right is an American who clearly considers himself important. “Wes” is next to top table. The American is talking to staff to have me moved because he does not know who I  am and am not in any of the pre-meeting briefings he has received from security. He is talking to staff in a demanding and entitled way. He is roughly my age wearing a dinner jacket like suit and has a balding head. He says that he does not know who the fuck I am nor why I am there. I agree that there must be some mistake. I am clearly at the wrong table. I do not belong there. I am not important like them. I move to get up. “Wes” apologises. I say that it is for me no drama. Once I have gotten up everyone shuffles along one place to the left.  

The staff lead me off to the back of the room to some kind of satellite meeting. They notice a place between Justin Trudeau and a MAGA faithful lawyer who is becoming politically active. He is upcoming. He is mid-forties and with sandy coloured hair. They seat me between them. Trudeau welcomes me as does the lawyer. Trudeau is just swinging by and is in London. I start to skilfully interview the politician-lawyer. He is having good fun because he is talking about himself. I ask questions attentively. He suddenly stops and asks me what I do.  He has a southern accent. I say that a long while back I did a start-up and used to work with students. He says that maybe I can help look after his daughter who is on placement here in London. I say gladly.

She waves from the entrance hall to the banquet. I get up and go to meet her. Together we go to the quiet rooftop of the building. We start to chat and she has with her a yellow plastic container with “fluff” a fluorescent pink marshmallow like treat. She offers me some. She is on strict instructions not to eat the whole box. I have a little and say that she is welcome to my share. I ask her how she is finding London. Refreshing is the answer. She apologises and says that her father can be more than a bit of a dick from time to time. I am pleased to be away from the banquet.

The scene changes and I walk past a glass doored college laboratory and the young woman is there. It is the next morning. I ask how she is. She says that she had an upset stomach from the fluff but is otherwise OK. I leave her to get on with her experiments. Apparently her father has come to pick me up in a car and I need to get into a suit. He arrives and we go down into a wide American style convertible which he drives only a few hundred yards. We discuss how relationships can take a time to build. He says that where he comes from the pace like the accent is slow. A garage door opens automatically and we are soon in the lobby of a hotel. I think it really stupid to have driven when he could have walked. Someone gestures to him and he walks off leaving me in the lobby with the promise he will return. In the dream I know he will not and try to figure out how long I need to wait before I can walk off. He has forgotten all about me because I am not important to him..

The dream ends.

Malevolent Thoughts – Magic – White Scallop – Phowa Dream 06 -02-2026

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I had hoped that we were past this, past this kind of projection at me. Here is last night’s dream on a night which had an otherwise long sleep.

The dream opens in a seemingly underground labyrinth, a warren of tunnels, which I know to be the mind of another or others plural. The walls are curved and of a grey muddy hue and texture. Hanging pendant from the ceilings of these tunnels are amulets shaped like a pain au raisin, coiled. They are palm-hand sized. They are British English of provenance. I know they are encapsulated thought forms and parcelled emotions. They are negative and malevolent towards me. They have variously resentment, jealousy and ill will. They are anger and even hate filled projections at me. In some cases they have festered long. They are by way of black magic spells directed at me either wittingly or otherwise. The persons generating these malevolence are not fully aware of their voodoo like essence. Nor do they understand that these emanations against a witch with well-practiced charms of reflective protection is for them, the emanator, a very unwise thing. Deep in the resentful caverns of their minds they are harbouring and feeding this negativity which is bad for them. They are nurturing it and it feeds upon them. It is eating them alive. To project against a witch is foolhardy.

In the dream I sigh.

The scene changes to a small cove on the coast with crystal clear waters. It too seems English. I am in the water swimming at the behest of an “archaeologist”. I am free diving to the bottom and searching the sand. I find a large pristine white scallop shell. Larger than normal, shiner than normal and whiter than normal. It is somehow special even magical white. I go to shore and show it to the archaeologist. He is excited. He asks me to find a living bed of scallops as proof. I know that the archaeology refers to the/my past. I dive and swim towards where a fresh water stream inlets into the sea. There on a small rocky outcrop are a bed of scallops. I take a picture with my underwater camera and with the knife from my ankle scabbard ease a living pair of scallops off. I return to the shore. I show the archaeologist who is very happy.  We go into the village and enter a small cottage with a “Tudor” blue wooden frame. We go into the kitchen and start to wash the scallops in the sink. The couple who are the cottage owners return and let themselves in with a key. At first they are surprised to see us in their house, their kitchen. The archaeologist apologises and explains. They are happy and the wife helps him wash the scallops in the sink.

The scene fades and I am left with a very strong visual image of someone known to me whom I have not spoken with for two decades. He is older than me and of a prior “generation”. I know that he nears death and this is by way of a checking in. If and when things progress I will see him during the transition and soon afterwards. The same holds true for a female also of his generation. As a part of the Phowa practice I will encounter them on planes non mundane in the in between. I am ready whereas they are not. I am at home there.

The dreaming sequence ends…

On waking I know that there is nothing you can do if someone harbours envy, bitterness and jealousy towards you. If you mention it, it does not go away. It only entrenches and gets worse.