Homunculus – Homuncule – Children – Hidden Doorway Dream 25-01-24

I had this dream between 7:07 and 7:30 this morning. I checked the clock on the way back from the loo and went back to bed. I was woken by the central heating clicking on at 7:30 AM.

The dream starts in the living room of a house in France. I am there with the wife. I can see the cat ferreting around on the top shelf of a bookcase. It is trying to get into a black plastic container. I get a small step on stool and reach the black plastic container taking it off the shelf. The cat is very curious and tries to get into the box and I have to shoo it away.

I take the container over to the window. There is no lid. In it I can see a small ~20cm high homuncule {homunculus}. It is curled up and seems to be dead. It looks a bit like an alien “grey”. I prod it gently with a pencil and it does not move.

{The dream is specific homuncule in French.}

I move away from the window. The cat nearly trips me up and I spill the contents of the container onto the floor. The homuncule lands and the carpet is covered with a shiny silver-grey powder from him which glistens iridescent. The homuncule stands up and walks off to the kitchen. As it moves small mouse like turds fall from off its back. It has been asleep for a very long time. I know that he is very thirsty and is going to get some water. The cat watches but seems too startled to do anything.

I turn around and there are a few, around half a dozen, children standing behind me. They are boys and girls aged around 7 or 8. They are dressed like children in a 1950s US TV programme. The have freckles and are clean and tidy.

I ask them, “quelle langue parles-tu?”

One of the girls say, “um, English, we are from Kivingden in Kent. We have been here a long time.”

I follow the path of the homuncule towards the kitchen. I notice a new white painted metal door has appeared. The door is reminiscent of a naval door designed to prevent water ingress. It has a white metal lever clamped shut which I lift to open the door. I open it and lock the door fully open with a metal rod.

It is a kind of portal.

I can see an industrial metallic staircase spiralling down. It is painted white. The bunker below is very well lit and also painted white. I know it to be extensive and to be a nuclear shelter. I know it is well provisioned and that the homuncule has made it appear and that it is from whence the children came.

I call the wife to come and inspect.

Dream ends.  

—————

Homuncule : Homme de taille réduite auquel les sorciers ou les alchimistes prétendaient pouvoir donner la vie.

Earth Dawn – Arabic – Hidden Doorway – Rasta Seer Dream 15-09-23

At 06:45 I had a bathroom break and went to bed unsure if I would get back to sleep. I thought to myself lie here and see what dreams might come.

 I drift off and from space I see a planet isolated in space. It is blue and green and white. I know that this planet is the earth. Around it I can see a bright white disc of light, a corona. This layer, atmosphere of light, gradually thickens until it is around 10% of the planetary diameter. The layer implodes and then explodes into a four pointed star of white light. The earth cannot be seen only the light. The points of the star are sharp and about five planetary diameters long at maximum length. They are at the four cardinal directions, emanating from the North and South poles with an East-West perpendicular. After reaching maximum extension they disappear leaving the planet isolated in space without its white light corona.

I know in the dream that I must meditate on this and re-run the vision of the formation of the four pointed star. The dream coincides with sunrise here in France. I have the sensation that something dramatic has happened for the planet. I consciously rebuild the image several times over.

The image fades.

The next dream starts on a large ferry boat. I am sat in the library of the boat. The boat has been purchased for educational purchases but few of the people are using it thus. They are in the bar and the games room. The captain announces that he encourages people to explore the boat and to see what other facilities there are. Some people come to sit at the same table as me. They try to take a couple of my books. I say that I have already loaned them from the librarian. I show them the front of the books where there is a slip of paper with loans on. The loan slips have my name handwritten in blue-black ink and a date stamp which is current for me. The books are texts of physics and chemistry together with ancient occult treatises. These latter manuscripts are very valuable and rare. I have been studying them a long time. The people are surprised at the contrast. I explain that it is natural to me.

The dream shifts to a country estate. We are letting a landowner onto the property. She is wearing a waxed “home counties” style shooting jacket and has a shotgun split in the crook of her left arm. She warns that they have let the dogs off the leash. There are two yappy black dogs and a border collie. I give the collie my fist and he holds it in his mouth we are playing a pulling game of sorts. The woman remarks that I now have a friend and that she, the collie, is rarely like that with any human outside their immediate family.

We carry on around the property and to the place where it adjoins the sea. The woman and the daughter say that this cove is their favourite bit. I point South. I say that I prefer the view of the massif across the strait. There above the azure blue sea I can see a fortress in the bright Mediterranean sun. We are making our way along a cliff side path. I don’t like having people behind me on the path and I come to a tricky bit on the path. I say that I am going to have to sit down because I am getting vertigo. I am stuck. I say that they can take the higher path on the cliff face and I will meet them on the other side.

I sit down. I then edge along the path and around the corner of a rock. Hewn into the cliff face is kind of terrace. On that terrace is a small single slat wooden bench. There is a wooden door painted in a dark pastel blue. I can see the grains of the wood and the rushes on the seat put there for comfort. The door is of antiquity. There is a metal ring about the size of my fist at waist height to right hand side of the door. I shout out, “look there is a hidden door!”

A voice answers in Arabic that this is the door of El Shab Abdul bin Shamir or something like that. I cannot recall the exact name but it sounds like this and ends in bin —mir. The woman and two young people, men, are coming in the opposite direction along the path. She is speaking Arabic saying that this is the place he {Abdul} came to meditate and it opens into his garden. In the dream I can understand Arabic because of my crusader-priest life.

They round the corner and sit with me on the terrace. There is a suitable rock of a metre or so on the terrace. As she sits her long hair in corn row dreadlocks falls around her shoulders and reaches to the ground. One of her companions plays with her hair and says that she is Rasta. I smile because I knew some Rastafarians. She is half caste and resembles a young Whoopi Goldberg. She has dazzling blue eyes and I know her to be a seeress of some considerable prowess.

She switches to English and we discuss that from time to time she sees the long dead owner of the garden. I say, “his spirit?” “Yes” she replies. “He is a most unusual being.” “I too come here for solace from time to time.”

Unlike for the others there is no need for she and I to open the physical door. We are suddenly on the other side in a small yet exquisite ornamental garden reminiscent of the Alhambra with water fountains and immaculate planting. We are strolling along and I have the profound sense of having met this woman before. The familiarity if strong.

The scene changes and I am outside a European castle gate. The country is verdant. We are stood by a weir which controls the flow of water through the castle and to the castle fishponds. These ponds are used to provision the castle folk. Every spring they open the sluices for a while to allow the fish from the river into the ponds and to refresh the water. It is the time of the salmon run. People are dressed mediaeval style. There is much excitement because there is plenty to eat after a harsh and boring winter menu. The keeper of the sluice ceremonially starts to open them. The flow is slow at first. Small fish are swimming up the weir. To one side I notice a large silver male salmon leaping up the weir. It has transformed into its breeding shape.  I shout. Everyone looks. There is much joy because the annual salmon run has begun.

I wake up and feel slightly overwhelmed. It is 8:15 AM. What is only a short time in earth time has seemed like an eternity in dream time.

* I have “memories” of verdant Europe, France and a more scorched Mediteranean. The sense of time is around 800 years ago, plus or minus.