Tag: Letter

Waking Dream – French GP – UK Charity Dream 18-10-2025 – Bodhicaryāvatāra

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Here is the dreaming sequence had yesterday and overnight. The purpose of this current visit is to ascertain if a move back to the UK feels right and/or is otherwise on the cards. The previous few dreams have not been auspicious in this context.

Yesterday we were driving back along a valley and “no through road” “road ahead closed” signs became apparent with no further information. It is the only “A” road route. The signage for diversion was late and the following signage poor, to understate. It was done in a shoddy manner. This contributed to us getting lost in a hive of tiny single track country roads.

During the night around 1 AM the fire alarm in the bedroom started bleeping on a regular basis. I opened a window to allow air circulation. At home this often corrects. The bleeping continued. So stark bollock naked I climbed with my spastic body on a chair to investigate. The detector was stuck to the ceiling with dual sided sticky tape and two screws which had not been rawl plugged into the ceiling. The detector came away in my hands. I went to the bathroom the both of us wide awake and light on. I unplugged the battery and the bleeping stopped. The workmanship was quick-fix shoddy rushed.

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A little later around 4:30 AM. Dreaming I find myself in the upstairs room of a village / town centre region in France. On the square outside I can see a church spire. The village square is cobbled. I do not know this village. In the waiting room next to the secretary a patient is waiting.  He is a man a little younger than me dressed in maroon cords and with a sleeveless puffer jacket. He has unruly curly hair around the circumference of male patterned baldness. He greets me in French with a great deal of warmth. He is a local big cheese. I have taken over as the village doctor, the village general practitioner. {GP}

I usher him into the office, and we discuss what ails him. He is after some more codeine for the pain in his knees. I know that the previous GP had been in the habit of dishing out drugs like sweeties. I ask him to get on the table for an examination. I flex and check his knees. Whilst I can hear some arthritic crunching the mobility is good. I say that we need to wean him of the opiates. He disagrees. I ask him if he remembers having a proper easy bowel movement. No. I say that this time I will prescribe him some codeine but the next time I will reduce the dosage. I open his cardboard covered dossier and look through we discuss in a mixture of French and English his posting to French Indochina and his time in the foreign legion.

Back in the waiting room / secretarial area the room is filling up with people to see the new GP. They are not all ill. It has a social function. The secretary gives me a glass of red wine, and the next patient comes with me for consultation. She too is a local big wig. She sits in my office and asks how much wine I drink. One glass a day I reply. I know in the dream that I do not drink at all. I am saying this because the wine was by way of a welcome. She then thanks me for taking up the position as GP for the village.

The scene changes and I am in a modern squashed in English new build two-bedroom house on the upstairs carpeted landing. A letter comes through the letterbox and lands on the doormat. It is a letter from a solicitor. I open the letter, and it is stating that I have inherited the chairman ship of an unspecified charity in Lerwick. I should travel there to take up post.

I make my way to a ferry port and get on a boat to cross to the islands. First, I have to descend in a lift to the disembarkation point. I get on the boat, and it is very low tide. Out of the window and in the caldera of a fountain which is where the boat is waiting, I can see large eels, ling and conger eels. They are congregating around the central fountain. There is no water. In my mind I note that I could come back here and throw a line should I wish to catch these eels / fish. Though I am unsure that I would wish so to do or why.

On board the boat is a member of the charity committee. He is advising me that there is a power struggle at the charity and as a non-islander there is both a chance that I could sort it out or a chance that I could further precipitate conflict. I am not overly keen on finding out which.

As I start to come to, I am reminded of two phrases, “perfidious Albion” and “may I be the doctor and the nurse”. The latter of which stems from Śāntideva’s so-called bodhisattva vows.

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With my palms clasped at my heart,
I urge all buddhas longing for nirvāṇa:
Do not leave us blind and all alone,
But remain with us for countless ages!

Through whatever virtue I have gained
By all these actions now performed,
May the pain of every living being
Be cleared away entirely, never to return.

For all the beings ailing in the world,
Until their sickness has been healed,
May I become the doctor and the cure,
And may I nurse them back to health.

Bodhicaryāvatāra: An Introduction to the Bodhisattva’s Way of Life

by Śāntideva

Via Gambetti – Letter – Via Marchese – nagal Dream 11-03-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream it has a distinct Italian theme.

The dream starts with me sat at my desk. The desk is small and ornate. It is designed for writing and has stationery and quills. The feel is late 18th or very early 19th century. I am wearing pantaloons which button just below the knee, they are of a golden colour. A man comes in he is bearing a letter on a metal silver coloured tray. The tray is slightly ornate. The letter is addressed to me though I cannot see my name. I can see “Via Gambetti” as the address. I sense a silent “h” as in Gambhetti. I open the letter with a paper knife. The letter is written in a deep royal blue ink with a slanting italic script. I have been waiting for this letter for some time. It is written in Italian.

The scene changes to modern times, and I am in an Italianate piazza off which is a modern exposition building. The address of which is “Via Marchese della…” or “Via del Marchese…”. I go into the hall and a young woman hands me a conference programme entirely in Italian. I read and understand it. There are many high technology exhibitors with stalls and rooms placed around the large atrium. I start talking to some young people in a group. A man is a posh suit and his PA approach. He puts his hand on my shoulder and says, “ciao, we are glad you came. Will you help us judge the best exhibit and most promising technology?”

I go off with them and enter a booth / room which is full of large screens and computers. Someone is playing a game / simulation. The simulation is a mix of military and aid, some kind of logistical clean up operation. The idea is all about logistical delivery and monitoring. I ask a young man to explain his work to me, because I am out of touch and out of date, Jurassic even. He says that he is very pleased to meet me and starts to explain.

We move on to “judge” various other exhibits. I am totally surprised in the dream that anybody would be pleased to see me or welcome my input.

At the back of the exhibition area is small seminar room which I know that I have used before. I make my excuses and nip in there to have some time to myself away from the hubbub. On the green-black rotary blackboard written in white chalk are the words “nagal exposed”. On the rotary white board amidst a multicoloured patch of marker pen is the word “nagal”. It is in relief, not coloured in and the colour of the white board behind.

I take a blackboard eraser to the white chalk and rub it out. I take a piece of blue paper towel to the white board and rub that out. I am very surprised to find these here. When I have finished, I roll both the white board and green-black board over to clean areas.

The dream ends.

Mount Isa – The Maltese – FCO – Dream 02-03-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream had between 3:30 and 7 AM. This was under the influence of prophylactic paracetamol because my back pain can wake me in the morning.

The dream starts in Mount Isa Queensland Australia. I am there aged as I was when we lived there but it is modern day. I take a look at former abodes starting with Sulphide Street, then Moore Crescent and finally Opal Street. I linger here, Opal Street, a while and then make my way to Happy Valley state school. I enter the premises and talk to a teacher. I explain that I am a former pupil and would like to take a look around. Even though I am a child she speaks to me as a parent. I explain that I am an ex-science academic from Imperial College London.

As I walk around, I meet a small Italian girl who is dressed in a deep blue frock. I know her to be the daughter of my piano teacher (Menghetti?). We are close friends and classmates.  We embrace and hold hands walking around the school as it was back then.

I decide that I need to explore and head off into town. Downtown I find a gym with adults in it. They are lifting weights and there is an old man with a wispy beard who runs the place. I go in and start to talk with him. Again, although I am small, he treats me as an adult. I lift some weights the adults are having trouble with. He says that he recognises me because I look like my sister, who was more extrovert than me. I say that yes, I am Taylor.

I walk round to the town Olympic swimming pool where I was taught to swim by Bill Sweetenham (Olympic swimming coach team GB). The pool is much as I can remember but there are added facilities.

I decide that I must go to take a look at the Leichhardt River. It is in half- flood. On the way I meet a small part Asian / Chinese girl with her black hair in platted pigtails. She runs up to me and greets me as a long lost friend. We embrace and kiss like children on the lips. We are very close and the sense is that is across lifetimes. We walk close to the river. I enjoy the spray. We need to cross the river. I see a spot and we wade across with the water being over our knees.

I understand that there is a problem with the title to some land in my father’s name. There is a dispute as to ownership. I know that this might refer to land in Mount Isa or some of the development land which he once owned in parcels near what is now downtown Brisbane. They are trying to find the estate to resolve the title.

The scene changes and I am on an airfield close to a helipad next to a hangar. The airfield is grass. On the helipad is a large white military-like transport helicopter. It is official. I head for the sliding door and enter the passenger bay. The airman grabs my hand and helps me in. He says welcome and that he is glad to meet the one who is called by many “The Maltese”. In the dream I know that this refers to my lifetime two lifetimes ago. We fly off.

Now I am set in an office, old school UK, with a shiny wooden desk and a desk light with a green porcelain like elongated bulb holder. On the desk is a white envelope addressed to me in black fountain pen ink. I pull out the letter. It is on Foreign and Commonwealth Office letterhead. Below the letterhead is a handwritten note to me.

The dream ends.