Tag: indigo-blue

Dreaming Colour – Shaman – nagal Woman – Light – Dream 13-09-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is this morning’s sequence.

Around 6:15 AM back from the bathroom I lay in bed. I was unsure if I should get up or if I would go back to sleep. So I began a raja yoga thought form meditation building a form and a triangulation. I was having difficulty holding the form which is unusual. I started to notice breakthrough of dreaming colour of a passive kind. I decided to follow the cue and absorbed myself into the dreaming colour.

I am to explore. The visual field fills with a light blue and indigo blue light nascent and forming like clouds in time lapse. The colour assumes shapes similar to a Mandelbrot set though much more poorly defined. It is fractal. The visual field is breathing and transforming. The light is struggling against an inflowing darkness a kind of black ink diffusing into clear water effect. I allow the blue to swell excluding the ink. There is and ebb and flow of dark “ink” and vibrant light-indigo-blue. The dreaming is struggling against the incoming darkness. I know this to be caused by the darkness and evil currently expanding into the world. Unpleasant evil is on the rise. The dreaming of mankind is impinged by this darkness and it struggles to dream in, dream true. I observe and will the dreaming colour, the light-indigo-blue, to fill the visual field like a tide washing up a beach. It marginalises the darkness but does not exclude it completely. It holds the darkness temporarily at bay. The session lasts for between a quarter and a half earth hours, though it seems more eternal. I feel energised by the power of the dreaming.

I allow myself to leave the dreaming colour and build the raja yoga thought form and triangulation with ease.

The dream starts upstairs at Monty’s with Robin he is trying to find us a new house to live in. We are exploring the upstairs of a house. He says that it is bigger than the one at Monty’s, which it is. He has other places to show me. But first he wants us to meet someone.

The scene now change to the cafeteria of an ethnic shop come garden centre somewhere in the UK, query Wales or Borders. I am sat at a large round table with the wife to my right and Robin and a Mexican looking woman opposite. She is opposite me; Robin is opposite the wife. On the table is an earthenware bread basket and rectangular beaded place mats set with tiny turquoise stones. The feeling is very South America. On the walls are chianti-like wine bottle with a straw protective covering. Robin says that we should all join hands in a circle. I say that this is not a good idea, specifically for her, you. I look directly at her and she returns the gaze.

She has dark black hair with a few streaks of grey-white tied tightly back into a bun. She is of a similar though older age as me. She is slight and wearing a thick coloured line-patterned “poncho”. She has a single large “silver” earing in her left ear. Here eyes are obsidian black. She does not think it a bad idea to hold hands. She reaches out her right hand, which is small, tanned and leathery. As she does this the sleeve of her turquoise shirt rises up to reveal a silver ethnic bracelet. She offers me her hand. I can feel the palm-chakra in my right hand begin to burn and radiate heat. I say that I know she is a shaman to which she makes no reply but has a reciprocal knowing.

I bring my hand close to hers and we grip. She initially winces at the impact of heat from my hand. There is an instantaneous rush and a kind of melding. The room around us disappears. I know that she is a nagal woman. For what seems a long time we are sat there without chair or table for support suspended in space holding hands.

She then shows me by mental projection a truly brilliant white four pointed star of immense radiance.

–

–

The basic outline is as above. But the visual image was truly dazzling filling the entire visual-dream-field.

She asks me what it is that I do.

I say that I work quietly persistently against darkness and that I have always done this.

She says that I am a light and that I have always been a light a part of the light a greater light.

She says that I am not alone we are all connected.

We sit there joined isolated in space-time for a considerable time.

On letting go of hands we are back at the table in the restaurant. The others do not seem to have noticed. We have some food and browse the ethnic shop. I pick some items up and go to the till to pay. The cash register is not modern. The woman puts the items in a hessian bag and tells me to take care of them because the last time I was here I broke a few things. I discuss with the nagal woman how I once had a male student who I knew was a proto-shaman and more. I knew that he was like me and that he was not yet ready to learn this. He needed to have a shaman’s breakdown first in order to be ready. Just like I did thirty years ago. The feeling is that he is now ready.

The woman at the till is a confederate of the nagal woman. Something drops on the floor off the till and I kneel down to pick it up. She has pushed it. As I do this the nagal woman places a fine wooden tube into my left ear and blows with some force some plant material and a tiny diamond-like gemstone. I see them moving down inside the opaque tube and feel them enter my beingness via the ear.

I am kneeling in a position like martial arts seiza with my back straight and my eyes front. I have no shirt on and am in white linen trousers. I am looking East directly into the dawn. The light flows past my head like a wind blowing my hair which starts off longish black. I initially have no body hair on my torso. I am kneeling in a wind, a gale, of light. The kneeling form changes shape and I can see the face take on different forms which I know are different lives. She tells me to remember and have more faith because I am a light. By mind I tell her that I am made to endure and to wait. I may seem not to be doing but I am, I am waiting. She smiles and removes the wooden tube. We are back in the ethnic shop at the garden centre.

The scene changes and I am at a cottage with a wooden five bar gate. I am on the drive. The wife is in the house and Robin has asked me to look after a young dog. He is going on holiday and the dog needs a good home. I take the lead of a black and white springer spaniel type dog who is very exuberant. I close the gate and let it off the lead. It jumps the gate and Robin thinks it will run away. I call it and it jumps back over the gate and straight up into my arms. The dog has decided that I am OK.

The dream ends.

Luxuriously Lost – Dreaming Colour – Vajra Bell – Huge Serpent – Dream 03-09-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is last night’s dreaming sequence, which on waking seemed very significant.

The dream starts with me arriving at a brand spanking new London Underground station which I exit onto the street in front. The tube station on a standard tube sign is called “DOCTO BEN”. In the plaza outside are a number of food outlets, a news agents and a Timpson’s key place. The buildings are modern and white, a reproduction of period buildings suitable to the area which I know to be due West of the South Kensington campus. The reproduction has been done very well. Although I know roughly where I am, I am lost. I do not recognise any of the streets nor the street names which are on plaques in keeping with the area. In the dream I rationalise that it must be an Elizabeth line, new tube station.

I decide that I need to get a green district line tube home and venture northwards towards the park to look for one. I estimate I may find one there. I am unhurried and thoroughly enjoying my time being luxuriously lost with no fear therefrom. I head north. I cross a main road onto the outskirts of the park and cross the road which I know heads over the Serpentine. I wait for the little green man on the traffic lights. I start to cross. As I am crossing my mind, its visual eye, is filled with the phrase “OXO BEST”. I know this and the previous word are numerology.

The dream changes and I am upstairs in bed. Somehow the cat has gotten onto the upstairs landing and is playing with marbles. I get up to investigate she is chasing a green cat’s eye marble back and forth along the hall. I imagine the door to the upstairs to be open so that she can go back for food and toilet. I close the bedroom door so that she cannot get in.

I wake up and recall the words. I go to the loo and make a note of the words on a cardboard box in the kitchen. It is a little after six AM.

I get back to bed thinking that my dreaming is perhaps over for the night and will generally calm down now after my birthday. I don’t think that I will go back to sleep.

Slowly my visual field fills with my dreaming colour, forming, swirling and forming in its indigo-blue Rorschach blot like way. The colours form among “clouds”. The dreaming colour fills the dream landscape. I note that this is highly unusual, spontaneous dreaming colour. I allow myself to relax fully into it and let the landscape fill and the colour absorb me.

I am in my old university office and the telephone rings. It is a young woman asking if she can get a train to Memphis Tennessee from where she is. I say that I will come down to see her. I ‘phone through to the trainline and a ticket costs £1540. I meet her outside. She is with a friend. I tell her the price and suggest that she would be better off getting a hire car. She has a small day-sack on her back. She is not best pleased. I say that it is an easy drive. She says “ok, then. I will drive” and flounces off. She is a Ph.D. student due to present at conference.

The scene changes and I am sat on a faded red armchair isolated with no room reference point. I can feel the wind whoosh by my hair and the world is whizzing past as if I am travelling through space. I am reminded of the Maxwell tape adds.

—–

——

I feel absolutely rooted to the chair and the world, the universe even, whizzes past. I cannot see myself but can feel the chair and its arms under my hands. The motion is fierce.

The wind dies down and I can now see myself from the front of the chair. I am sat on the chair wearing a full bright yellow Gelug ceremonial crescent hat. I am in Tibetan style monk’s robes and have a mala on my left wrist. I look like I do now only my hair is freshly buzz-cut. I seem energized. In front of me on a very ceremonial table in its pouch is my Vajra-bell. I know that the chair is in fact a ceremonial throne, my throne. With my mind the pouch around the Vajra-bell disappears. The bell swells in size and takes on a golden radiant hue. The quality of it is vastly enhanced and intricate. The bell starts to radiate light in all directions until it becomes almost blindingly bright. But I know that this light is not normal photons. It is Vajra-tantra. I sit bathed for what seems like a very long time, the light feeling much like the gale-wind from before only vibrant.

The scene changes and I am sat at my old desk from when I lived in Brixton. On the table is an open propped up Microsoft Surface tablet. It is large and expensive. It is not mine. I can’t remember what I did the night before so I press play on the tablet. A video starts to play.

In it I can see a few men, eastern European, query Russian. They are standing in a near circle. One of them has his flies undone and what looks to be a semi-erect penis protruding. On close inspection it is the head of a snake. One of his comrades pulls gently on the snake head and guides it to the floor. Slowly a huge snake reminiscent of a fat Burmese python eases its way out of the trousers. The snake is several metres long and more than  ~30 cm thick. It is massive and powerful. It has a racing-green lush colouration and glistens with a self-moistening sheen. I am now fully in the scene and the snake comes towards me, it welcomes me and I temporarily incorporate it. I become one with it.

The scene changes to the far artic north. I am outside a base with wire mesh fence. I dig a deep square shaped hole deeper that my height. The sides of the hole are perfectly cut squared because I am digging into permafrost. Into the hole I place my Vajra-bell along with several near-spherical objects which have an egg like purpose. They are ancient and sort of sacred. I am the keeper. I then exude the snake into the hole for protection. It nestles down. I go off and cut several chunks of ice slab. These are ~one metre by one metre by thirty centimetres, they are heavy hundreds of kilos. But I manipulate them by hand and mind into the hole as a stopper. I am about to cover with dirt when Max walks by. I ask him if he would like to take a look before I close it. He is unsure but agrees.

The dream ends.

The Dreamers of Mankind are Group Conscious…

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

At the level of the reincarnating Soul or dreamer humanity is group conscious. It is aware of other Souls or dreamers who are on the same wavelength or colour. This is soul to soul. The incarnate being may not be fully or even partially conscious at the soul level being wrapped up in the “personality” of the meaty vehicle and its desires and worries. This so-called personality is the separative notion of self, focused on by modern psychology. As yet soul-centred psychology has not come into being. The “self” may be mentally polarised, emotionally polarised or gonad obsessed. It may prefer ideas and concepts, drama and emotional manipulation, or think only about sex and shagging. The soul or the dreamer is a level of consciousness which is true intuition, the inner-tuition of the real incarnating you, the soul, the dreamer. It seeks life after life to fully infuse the vehicle and its personality into which it is born. Its journey is home to the ONE source.

An IDF soldier firing into a crowd of people queuing for food in Gaza may be killing someone whose soul is the same colour as his, who belongs to the same group of souls. Literally he kills his brother or sister. This he justifies to him or herself.

In this context my soul ray or colour is indigo-blue, the second “ray”, which means that I pertain to the elephant dreaming class in Toltec nomenclature. There are people on the same wavelength, at the level of dreamer, as me, incarnate in bodies all over the world. They may be Aboriginal, Russian or Arab or Jew. They may be Nigerian or Chinese, they may even at a push, be English. The vehicle matters not to the soul. You may drive a Honda, a Peugeot or even a Chevrolet. The driver can change “cars” from life to life. That way one gets to experience different mundane circumstance and traditions. It is all about learning.

At this level of the soul, the heart, we are the same colour, we have similar sound and a basic urge to love-wisdom. It is possible via meditation and/or dreaming practice to ascertain to which group of souls you belong, to which dreaming class you pertain.

Of course even a rainbow verbalised as Richard of York etc. is a model. The colours of the rainbow do not care for our mundane descriptors, they merge into each other, without seam or boundary. The dreaming classes are defined for clarity but abut gently. Separation and division along with comparison are faculties of human mind, lower mind at that. The dreamers of the rainbow blend into a symphony of colour where each tone, each nuance of shade and vibrancy adds to the whole, the One Life in its human aspect.

Ever since humans started killing each other the practice of fratricide has plagued this planet!!

It continues to this day…

Slowly more people will sense this innate interconnectedness, they will feel it. They will know in heart that we are but one humanity and not a bunch of angry petty warring primitives. It will take a long time. Already there are tens of thousands who sense this.

The dreamers of mankind are group conscious and it is their challenge to manifest this consciousness fully onto the physical material plane, on the planet we call earth!!

M15 – Archives – Drones – Almeria Dream – 01-07-2008

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The dream starts in a loading bay of a newish building. There is a cab there that can be accessed by a door. A woman goes through a door and gets into the left hand side of the cab. I go through another door into a white sided room, I had thought that this would take me to the cab. Instead, I find myself in an old fashioned white lift which is a very tight fit for me. The lift is going down into a basement or sub-basement area. I know with certainty that this is the home of the security services MI5.

I exit the lift and am in the archives. It is secret. There are shelf upon shelf of books and records there. I come upon a man who is very familiar to me. He is startled to see me there. He is dressed as an “old school” English man. {Bletchley Park etc.}. He comments that he does not know why but he knows me. I say that I share the feeling. He shows me his hands. At the end of each finger is a tiny tool of some sort, like jeweller’s tools, they are all fanciful and wonderful. The implication is that he works meticulously. Although I recognise him, he is not someone that I currently know.

There is an explosion. We walk towards the window. Two space age helicopter crafts are coming towards us they are dropping bombs. He says that he will protect me but we must leave the building now.

We leave and are walking through a market square. There is debris of various craft stalls there. There are surveillance drones flying around. He points to two headlight like things lying on the floor. I pick them up, they will protect me.

I know that I must find Alveria or Almeria {it sounded like that}. One of the drones is now attacking me. I throw down one of the headlight things. It creates a massive puff of intense blue smoke. The scene changes.

There are now lots of large Arab style tents {Tuareg?} They are draped in cloths of a blue-indigo-blue hue.

I am wandering around the tents looking for something. J is somehow around. I am not concerned. I find a small white dog wrapped up in a blue cloth. I move on searching in a relaxed manner amongst the tents.

As I start to come to the entire dreamscape is filled with a deep royal blue, followed by indigo purple, then back to a blue-indigo-blue.

Dream ends.

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*During the Malaya insurgency my uncle, an officer in The Royal Corps of Signals, was recommended for his MBE by a General who was head of Military Intelligence {MI6?} and about whom little can be found. My uncle went onto to be a Colonel working out of Horse Guards Parade in London.

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Royal Institution – Anál nathrach – Silver Bullet – Dream 27-01-2024

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

This dream is top end strange and perhaps re-presents an occult attack carried out on me.

The dream starts with a knowing that in group situations there is always one who lets the evil thoughts and emotions in. That person is usually of the number three and so it was in the past. The weak point for temptation is always the West and the people of that predilection.

It continues to a visual image of a building which I know to be The Royal Institution of Great Britain. Someone has gotten past security and is rampaging around the building. I quickly run about the building to see if it has the old back passages which only someone who lives there would know. It does not. I am with the pool of back office workers and secretaries. We close the door and lock it.

We hear a noise outside. A young blonde American woman who works for the CIA goes to look through the peep hole. The attacker looks back and she tries to stab it with a long pin. It does not work. She runs past me.

The door bursts open and the only partially human attacker comes in. I struggle with it physically. It is much stronger then me. It throws me around and rips a large radiator off the wall. I grab a small climbing ice pick off a desk. It presses me against the wall with the radiator and is starting to crush me. I start to hit its left hand with the ice pick stabbing it and drawing blood. The attacker does not seem to worry. I can see its right hand too and re-adjust to attack it. I can feel my ribs getting crushed.

I start to chant in deep voice getting ever deeper and stronger.

Anál nathrach,

orth’ bháis’s bethad,

do chél dénmha

 It is the charm of making.

I chant it over and over. Suddenly the radiator drops and the attacker is transformed into a shiny silver decorative candlestick. It is sparkly and there are dangly decorations. One of the ladies goes over to touch it. I tell her not to because it is evil which is still cooling down.

I am completely aware that I am dreaming and am somewhat surprised that I am chanting the charm of making in a dream.

I am now outside in a fenced park. I can see a large lithe man with silver grey hair and I know that the second wave of the attack is coming. He heads straight for me and we fight. Again, he is way stronger than me. I try to chant.

Anál nathrach,

orth’ bháis’s bethad,

do chél dénmha

This has little or no effect because I am nearly exhausted. I am defeated and he and his colleagues start to round everybody up. We are led off towards a small lake in which there is a pontoon. They have with them a young seer with brown curly hair who gives running commentary on the skills and origin of each of the people. Meanwhile the attacker is wiring himself up to the electricity grid. As I near the lake I start to chant again. Water is my element.

Anál nathrach,

orth’ bháis’s bethad,

do chél dénmha

A hand in the water lifts out what looks to be a paper scroll. I take it and it unfurls into a rectangular shield with a handle. I know this shield will protect me from the bolts which the attacker may send.

We find ourselves on the pontoon. He starts to transform into a boat in which to carry us off.

One of his crew shouts out that the sniper is coming.

I can see that this is true and that he is a nagal’s courier already known to me.

The scout says that they need to take the sniper seriously because he as large .6 calibre armour piercing rounds.  The main attacker regains humanoid shape.

He takes me with him in the general direction of the sniper. The sniper is loading his single shot rifle and taking pot shots. As we get very close. He goes to load the rifle and with his other hand lobs me a bullet which I catch.

–

–

Whilst the attacker is focused on the sniper. I throw the bullet like a dart at him and it embeds in his chest. There is a sort of ripple in his fabric of the world. The bullet is stuck like a dart.

I wake up and take a visit to the bathroom. It is 7:17 AM.

I try to revisit the dream.

I am back to the scene where I throw the bullet. I can see that it has penetrated a little further into the attacker.

I can now see the face of the “real” human being causing the attack. The image is very clear and I can summon that to conscience now at will. The image changes to the back of his head. Where the cervical spine meets the cranium there is a fair sized yellow “X”. I know that all I have to do it project some energy here and his head will explode in real life. I send a little energy just to establish the connection but refrain from attack-defence. I will store the information should I need it later.

The scene changes and I am in the garden by the greenhouse.  I look towards plug hole corner the Northeast and I can see a brilliant rainbow which is reflected in the waters of the pond.

I wake up and think, “bloody hell that was a whopper”.

As a protective measure I visualize a full manifestation of Vajrapani in wrathful mode and “place” copies of him at various strategic points around the garden. I also reconstruct the reflective dome of indigo-blue around the house. Any magic will be reflected back at the source amplified.