Tag: robes

Snow Tiger – Bhutan – Vajrayana – Dream 16-11-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is last night’s dream again out of the blue.

The dream starts in a front garden of a UK house on a standard modern housing estate. It is snowing and I am standing with my Snow Tiger. He is wearing armour like Iorek Byrnison the polar bear in “The Golden Compass” the tiger and I are one and the same. He is a White Tiger. I say that I am the Snow Tiger and I have been sent by Hermes. We are enjoying the silence of the night as the snow falls.

The scene changes and I can see the ex-wife with Manoj and Chris sat chatting around a table in a brightly lit modern house. They are oblivious and do not understand the situation in any way. They are being silly. I go into the room and they carry on regardless. The ex-wife belittles me verbally. In a single movement I grab her by the shoulders and throw her off her chair and away from the table. This stuns them all into silence. She understands that I could have completely broken her and them all. There is no malice on my part.

The scene changes and I am lying in bed. The ex-wife tries to sneak into bed with me and I push her rather forcefully out. She goes to tell my {dead} mother and father what I have done. They say in an attempt to manipulate me that I should not push them away. If I leave them I can not comeback. I am not touched by their threat. I say that I am the Snow Tiger and that my domain, my range is in Bhutan. In the mountains. That is where I live / am. They need to understand the difference between the Snow Tiger and how they think I am. I stand tall on my hind legs and then rest back to four. I too have some form of armour on.

The scene changes and I am in some grand building which is dimly lit. It has the feel of a temple or Dzong. We are in a fairly vast atrium. The colours are dark red, magenta and there are “tapestries” adorning the walls. There is incense and there are people in robes. On one wall there is a vast tapestry which has dark thangka colours and in it a young Russel Crowe sat centrally with a long flowing cape or blanket, velvet. Behind him the scene is crowded with many figures some meditating. Towards a tree is a Tiger on back legs sharpening claws. It is normal coloured. I move towards tapestry and become the Tiger to the tree. The moment I become the Tiger the thangka starts to animate. I drop down to all fours and the become a man again. I am wearing monastic robes.

I walk in the scene through some wide “castle” gates along an unpaved road to the gates of an impressive monastery. The gates are several times taller than me and hewn out of a very dark wood. They smell distinctly of ages. The doors have iron rings to open. I open the doors and step inside. There are two men there one wearing a vaguely triangular skin fur hat with an animal skin coat and another more expensively dressed. They have been exposed to the sun and weather. They are military. The more expensive one says that they want to check if I am true. I go to offer my hand and the rougher one breaks his staff into some kind of two headed martial arts weapon. The other one has some kind of flail attached to a chain / string. I know this to be deep tantra Vajrayana. They start to chase me.

Out of my pocket I pull a small decorated golden orb slightly smaller than my fist. I hold it up and out of it comes a stream of light azure blue spheres which head off in the direction of my assailants. The spheres swarm them without harming. The spheres fly around them. I call them back and they “plunk” back into the golden orb. The two assailants are satisfied. I understand that the test was “ago”. I have passed.

We are now in some unspecified European country. We are searching for a missing woman. We have her address in a city. But finding a parking spot anywhere near is a nightmare. We park some distance off and head off on foot. I see her leaving her apartment with a white near transparent headscarf on. I catch her up and holding her arm lightly tell her she has no need to be afraid. She has been in hiding. We go inside a light building and I say that she can relax. She takes off her headscarf and I can see that she is in fact a young man. He has adopted this disguise so as to hide himself and keep safe.  I ask if that feels better. It does.

The scene changes to some kind of school / dharma centre. There are a number of children playing there and they are under supervision. There is a teaching hierarchy and embedded method. I arrive with a couple of people and go through to look at the day book which records what happens. It is clear that I am there to teach more than just the children. I sit in the “staff room” and add a few elements to the book, specifically my dream about the Snow Tiger. A woman teases me that I will need to use shorthand and not full text. The centre is up in the mountains and has a great view over the valley below. I open up the blinds some more to look out. They are all wondering what it is that I will do.

I am joined by a tall woman with long blonde hair. She has a faint American accent and is heavily pregnant. I ask her how long she has got left. Not long. I say that she could have it on the 30th of August and have the same birthday as me. That way the kid will always be a bank holiday baby. She asks what it is that I am interested in. I say that I have an idea around Naropa and that I am well placed to speak on Naropa. In my orb are some things related. For some reason I have a distinct sense of familiarity with the woman. The young man from before will be joining us as some kind of understudy to me.

The dream ends and I think, “wow, that was a whopper!”

How We View Things – Jeans or Robes?

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Although there is advice to never judge a book by its cover that is exactly what most people do. They place stock in appearance. They also pay a lot of attention to the ubiquitous omniscience of “they”. After all “they” are the font of all wisdom.

I know that it is the simplest thing for me to don my £1000 leather jacket, put on a freshly ironed grandad shirt, my black leather shoes and put my Ray Ban “Matrix” sunglasses on top of my head. I can walk into a store or building around here and will be treated differently. Instantly they will imagine I am not “from around here”. I know that I can walk with confidence up to reception at a posh hotel and be treated well. My mother used to joke that I was “to the manor born” in the sense that I was not in awe of posh settings. I have confidence. We could suggest that comes courtesy of Nchanga Consolidated Copper Mines paying my school fees at a mid-range English preparatory school in Gloucestershire.

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How we treat others depends on many things. If we have a sense of entitlement and imagine ourselves grand we might treat others like plebs. From our Olympian view others are beneath us. We may disrespect others and treat them poorly feeling justified in doing so. We may deign to offer an audience to the serf or underling. We may imagine ourselves the purveyor of knowledge to the ignorant or superstitious.

There is a joke here in that I was aiming to incarnate in Bhutan, I saw the dragon of Cardiff and found my mother’s womb there. Hence I wear jeans and not monk’s robes. I know beyond any doubt that if I met people with whom I have had a passing acquaintance whilst dressed in robes, without warning, it would be for them a non sequitur, and perhaps a complete mind fuck. They would not be sure as how to react or behave. They certainly would not offer me a scarf for me to offer them in turn, blessings therewith.

If I wore robes people would instinctively behave differently towards me. A book covered in Levis’ 501s reads differently.

I’ll wager that people may struggle to understand how I view things. In the previous post I mentioned that gossiping about someone is a form of bullying. If we gossip among ourselves we do not imagine it bullying. If we see it in a soap opera on TV we clearly see bullying. Why is East Enders different from our “normal” reality?

Although some may guess that they understand how I think and where I am coming from, I’ll postulate they are mistaken. Unless they have done two decades of meditation, read and understood a thousand science journal articles, read hundreds of patents and extensively researched the occult and Buddhist literature they are unlikely to have a similar intellectual background or mind.

But people can judge me and “understand” me from what I choose to put up in a hobby-blog. You might judge this book from the internet cover you are currently perusing. You may imagine that I am something like I was a couple of decades ago. The sense of humour might be similar but that is about it.

To reiterate.

I have never appointed a spokesperson or port-parole. Anyone claiming to speak on my behalf, know my mind or what I want; is a liar and a charlatan. Such a person is also a bull shit artist and very untrustworthy. If they are claiming any form of current acquaintance that is extremely unlikely given that I live a hermit-like life.

If we make shit up about people that is evil and a form of bullying. It can be slanderous and libellous. If my reputation is damaged by made up shit it prevents me earning a living or helping sentient beings.

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Buddhist Child – US Report – French Doctor – Cittaviveka Dream Sequence 18-09-2025

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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.

Shamballa – White Room – Buddhist Robes Dream 10-09-2024

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

This dream is at the “border” between dreaming and visualization and comes completely out of the blue. Yesterday morning I was talking with an investment manager of a venture fund whom I knew over thirty years ago at university. From high tech to Buddhism.

In the dream I arrive at the outer courtyard of a massive temple complex. It is situated in a commanding elevated position compared to the settlement in the valley below. To the South glistening in the sun, I can see a snow-covered mountain range. I assume these are Himalaya. I enter the temple complex which I know to be Shamballa. I am taken along a corridor to a room which I have never been to before. The room in contrast to the others is of a dazzling sparkling white and full of sunshine. There is a dais to one side also painted in brilliant white.

I am standing there in my black briefs. I say, “how come I have never seen this room before?” They say that I am now ready for it.

I am being dressed in the magenta and saffron-yellow vestments of a Tibetan style. The sense is that these robes are ceremonial. There are multiple layers, and I can feel the weight of them on my body. I can also feel the places on my forearms where I had the waking visions of “om mane padme hum” tattoos in Sanskrit around twenty years ago. I know somehow that it is winter. There is a sense that I am being prepared.

The chakras in my feet and hands are very energized.

I breakthrough into waking room consciousness and hear the wife breathing in bed next to me.