intelligence services

Here is last night’s dream sequence. I went to bed with a fairly decent head cold.

The dream starts viewing the outside of a Buddhist monastery in the bright morning sunlight. It is in the mountains. The walls of the monastery are a dark pastel puce colour. The finish on the wall is fairly rustic. There is an earthenware tiled roof with curved “oriental” beams protruding. It is Tibetan in style though I sense the word Mongol too. Stood there in the sunlight is a small Sino-Tibetan male child of around ten years age. He has mildly slanty oriental eyes and jet black hair. His eyes are dark. He is wearing monastic maroon robes and a winter “yak?” fur coat. His cheeks are ruddy from the cold. His face is neural of expression though I can sense a little mischief. We “know” each other. Well.

He is somehow ar-chay and sook-ray or sack-ray. The mind assembles the letters Aceh and sacré from the phonetics. Though the words, the sounds, are not English.

Either way I know him to be somehow holy and important. He is to be given to me for protection and education. In some way I am to assimilate him. I see him wearing a “boxy” hat which I understand to be like a crown. It is deep maroon. {On searching the internet the form is the same shape as a Tibetan ceremonial crown.} He is important and somehow also now a part of me.

The scene changes and I see a report. It is an A4 report bound with a cream cardboard cover. The cardboard has a slight sheen to it. To the left the report is bound with a navy-blue almost black spiral plastic binder. It is a little under a centimetre thick. Into the front of the report is cut a “window” which allows the title of the report to be viewed though the cover. I can see a two winged eagle above the subject line of the report. The eagle is in bright colour and I know that this is an official US government document. {On searching the logo is very similar to the official seal of the United States.} I know this to be some kind of intelligence or security briefing. The subject matter is me. There are at least half a dozen of these reports to be shared for discussion purposes. They are being shared with the British.

The scene changes and I am in a high specification posh doctor surgery in France. I am talking with a tall blonde doctor who is in grey medical scrubs. Her hair is permed and curly and she speaks English with a faint French accent. She is examining me. She asks me if I can still emit energy from my hands and I say that from time to time, yes I can. She asks me if I will wash her hands for her. We go to a sink in the corner of the room which is a bit cluttered. I clear the stuff away. She takes off her examination gloves. Using my elbow I turn on the elbow-tap. I place a very fluffy expensive white towel on the edge of the sink. I proceed to wash her hands with meticulous care, finger by finger. Which she seems to enjoy. We do this in silence. When I have finished I pat her hands dry. We both know that I am offering her a blessing of the highest order.

We go over to her desk and she asks me to demonstrate palm to palm transfer of energy. Which I do. She then says that I must understand that the people around where I live in France will not understand me. They will have no notion of a person like me, implicit Rinpoche, is like nor what that means. I say that I already know this and have not in any way judged them. She thanks me and I her.

The scene now changes and I am in a large red brick house which has the feel of a large English village vicarage. I am a guest. The woman of the house is younger than me and the family are well to do. She is a member of the Sangha and has agreed to put me and the wife up. We are near Cittaviveka monastery in Midhurst.

I wake up early and go into the village. I need to get some electronic equipment to help follow a clue I have seen on the internet. I get some cable and some RF connectors to cramp on. The guy in the shop is sceptical that I can do this. I tell him I used to be a scientist. I get some other supplies. Across the road is another electronics shop. I go in but it has changed into a coffee shop.

I go back to the house and let myself in. I turn on the TV and connect an electronic box. I start to play an internet video which I decode via the box onto another screen. The video starts with Anthony talking about his new-found Buddhism. The decoder changes his image into flowing river going over a weir. I know this to be England. The weir is magnificent and I know that there will be barbel fish under the lip of the weir. I see the image of a young man whom I know is like me and whom I will meet.

The woman of the house comes downstairs she is very excited that I have made myself at home and offers us breakfast. Later in the day there is a meeting at Cittaviveka which has been convened specially for me, away from the city and the bright lights. Far from the press.

The dream ends and I think wow that was well and truly out of the blue. For some reason I have a visual image of Kate and William.

I am somehow viewing our old house in Surrey, Montgomery’s Farm. I can see our landlord he is being interviewed by several official looking people concerning me. He says, “As far as I know they were polite, well behaved and generally liked. Then one day they pretty much upped sticks and disappeared. Nobody knew they were planning to do this !!”

I look down and see that our landlord has with him a dog with two heads.

Later...

I am, for whatever reason, staying in a large country house, a mansion with reddish bricks and very grand. It looks out across open fields and a valley. I can see woodland on the side of the hill on the far side of the valley. The house is set in the UK.

I am in the kitchen cooking a ratatouille style dish with courgettes and tomatoes. Two men and a woman arrive at the door. The men are wearing long trench coats in beige. Someone ushers them in to the kitchen and they start talking to me while I am cooking. They are asking me how come I am here. To which I reply that there is no simple answer. The men say that they are officials and have the right to know.

Pretty soon two other people turn up dressed smartly and with them are uniformed police. There is one of them who is the leader and he is from the Intelligence Services. They come into the kitchen and the tone gets more severe. I put some prawns in the pan. The leader says that security are going to restrain me. A policeman comes forward and handcuffs me. He attaches the other end of the handcuffs to a four poster bed. The woman comes with me bringing my pan and sits with me on the bed. They allow me to eat and I share some of my meal with the woman. I note that the prawns are not fully cooked. I ask her what her role in this. She is a police medical officer and may assess me.

I say to her that I need a piss. The policeman undoes my cuff from the bed and cuffs me to the female medical officer. She is now wearing a very blue dress which was hidden below her coat. I note that she will “stand out” in thew gents toilets. She is unfazed. We then (somehow) enter some gents toilets. It is busy and all the cubicles are taken. I am wearing a white t-shirt and around my middle, sarong style, is a white towel.

I go over to a long metal urinal and let the towel fall. I take a piss without using my hands with the woman stood next to me. It is a bit splashy. I then bend down to pick up the towel which I, with her assistance, wrap around my waist.

We go back to the room with the four poster bed and I am again attached. The woman suggests that I am going to be transferred. I will need some trousers. These are bought for me and I wear them.

The “intelligence” leader comes over and starts to ask me questions. His tone is combative and suspicious. He is asking me about various transfers of money and companies held in my name. I have absolutely no idea what he is talking about. It becomes clear that they are trying to frame me for some fraud so that they can take me back. The demeanour of the woman changes from sympathetic to cold.

They move over to one side of the room to chat in a huddle. I lift my hands up and when I bring them down the cuffs have vanished. Nobody notices. I can see some double swing doors, lab style, which lead into the back corridors of The Royal Institution.

I guess that if I can make it through the doors, I will be able to lose them in the labyrinthine corridors which I know well.

I start to move towards the doors and pass a side room. I glance in and the woman is now dressed in medical scrubs. She is operating on someone on a table. She sees me and raises the alarm. I make a dash for it and get through the double doors.

Several men start chasing me and someone is pushing a trolley down the corridor with chemicals on. I hurdle the trolley and head off down the corridor. The trolley stops, temporarily, my pursuers. They continue after me. One of them is wearing a full face shield and ventilator. I know there is no danger but he is afraid of the chemicals. I shout to him that there is no need and that it is safe.

I continue on and they chase me. We come to a dead end room. I am cornered. I see some blue foam pipe insulation several feet long. It is very soft and flexible. As they approach, I hit them on the head with it, in turn. It does no harm but appears to comedically stop them in their tracks.

The dream ends and I awake needing a piss.

I am about to cook ratatouille for dinner. Let’s hope I am not interrupted!! 😊

Tag: intelligence services

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