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.
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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)
Dreamyoga 