Tarot 16 – Posh Eco-lodge Dream 21-03-2026

Here is last night’s dreaming

The dream / vision opens with a three dimensional animated view of La Maison Dieu, Tarot 16. The scene is not static it is real and not cartoon. I know that this is Liberation Through the Power of Universal Intent. The universe sends bolt after bolt of lightning striking the tower of man’s self-importance dislodging the crown of self-imagined grandeur from their heads and unseating them without ceremony from their thrones. The universe has had enough. Many self-important people will experience Tarot 16. It is the card in play and will remain so for some time. I feel the brooding intent behind it. Some will be kneeled by the universe.

The vision fades.

The scene opens in a posh mansion like house in the parlour or sitting room. It is English. I am with a rich family. They have asked me to renovate and modernise a lodge on their property. It has seen better days. They want to turn it into a fully specified eco-lodge. I have budget. I will move into the lodge during the renovations. I am being handled as if I was in an avuncular familial advisor role. When I first move in the wayward son Eddy will help. They joke that Eddy can be my girlfriend in that isolated part of the estate. This is because Eddy is also a hippie and once had long hair. Eddy is not at the gathering.

The scene changes to the inside of the lodge. There is a huge Aga style range in the kitchen, which is used to cook, heat the house and water. There are several log burners throughout the property. The place is a bit of a shit tip with cobwebs and dirty glass. I get busy cleaning the windows and tidying up the kitchen. I check the wood supply. The lodge is in a wide clearing in a massive forest North of the M62 in England. All around are trees. The lodge is accessed by a semi-paved single track road off a local main tarmac one. If you did not already know you would not think a lodge to be there.

The next morning a car pulls up and a scruffy young man comes to the door. He knocks and I answer. I am not expecting anyone. He says hi and that he is Eddy. I invite Eddy in. He brings a hiker’s bed roll and rucksack. I show him to a room in the house for him. We get busy on the plumbing getting the single toilet working, cleaning out the bath and shower. We load logs into the log fired Aga and soon the water is warming and smoke is going up the chimney. The whole place needs to be log fired. I can see a place outside for a solar panel array.

The next day a sport car turns up and out of it get two young women. They are the daughters of the family. They are early twenties very “made in Chelsea” well-spoken and expensively dressed. They are used to people running around after them at beck and call. They come in to the kitchen and greet Eddy effusively. Immediately they get out some glasses and pour themselves what looks to be an expensive single malt whisky. They want to have the country experience of getting boozed up in front of an open fire.

I explain to them that  the nearest shop is a long drive away and that they had better ration the whisky rather than getting bladdered. They think me a spoil sport and tease me like I am a difficult parent or uncle. I say that if they are going to stay they had better make themselves useful.

One of them says that she can sort out the curtains the other says she will investigate the garden and vegetable patch. I show her the greenhouse with loose panes and the compost heap. When they are finished I explain that they will need to use the same bath water or wait a long while.

The next day a technician arrives. He looks like Andrew B. Together we go up into the loft to lag the hot water tank. We install a power management unit to fit the soon arriving solar panels. He has with him a short wave radio receiver and a radio transmitter. Which we put to one side until such time as the electricity is up. There is a lot of wiring to be done.

The next day late in the morning a bright red sports car pulls up. Out of it steps a  young blonde woman in party sparkly trousers and white top. She is lost and disoriented. She saw smoke from the chimney.  I go over to her. She retches a little. I ask her if she needs to use our toilet to be sick in. She says no. She got off her face yesterday at the gig and clearly should not be driving. She apologises for getting lost and turning up. I usher into the kitchen where she is fussed over by the daughters with a hot coffee and toast.

I know that the eco-lodge is also a kind of sanctuary and that the main part of the sanctuary is me. I am protection.

The dreaming ends.

Is Preparation Bad?

I tend to prefer to be very well researched and prepared for most of the things which I get “into” or approach.  I like planning and scoping. It does not matter all that much to me if what I scope ever has fruition or not. I like wide global views and to consider implications. Other people, it seems, like to wing it or at least try. I’ll speculate that my envisioning is wider than most. I probably research to an extent which is beyond normal.

I am pretty sure that my predilection for this has pissed people off from time to time.

In answer to my question, planning can be bad in a socio-political sense. Others don’t like it.

It might be soothing for me but it can get the backs of others up and make then a tad hoity toity. Being well prepared can cause dis-ease in others. It may challenge sense of control.

In as far as I can tell I have put the nose out of joint for quite a few people who consider themselves experts and others who have had a bad experience of schools, and teachers. Self-important reactions are easily triggered. Planning by self can exclude input from others. People do not like having Ph.D. viva examinations from, me, Joe Bloggs who looks like a pikey.

People accustomed to being experts can be wary of the well prepared. It is easy to get very defensive reactions. Many are insecure in their knowledge.

I personally do not like to make stuff up on the spot because it can lack accuracy.

It seems to me that some people find my practice of preparation threatening in some way. I don’t need to talk things through to understand.

It takes all sorts…

It looks like I have gone and offended some people again…

phew…

Questioning Deity – Are You Autistic?

Not long after I had my colon cancer operated on; I contacted a specialist in adult autism. I wanted to find out if I was autistic or had Asperger’s, albeit high functioning. The other day we watched Claire Taylor in a documentary called “Are You Autistic?” In that documentary a few people diagnosed with autism spoke of the phenomenon of “masking” in which they behaved in a manner so as to conceal their underlying autism. Said masking is tyring and can lead to burn out.  

I have a similar notion which is called chameleon. I can blend in, mimic and fit in for a while. I can be at home in a posh place like the Ritz or the Hotel New Otani in Tokyo. I can also go into a very rough dive / criminal pub and have a beer without fear.

One of the motivators behind my inquiry is/was the over-reaction to question and critique which I have experienced from the self diagnosed omniscient, pompous and self-important people over the years. Those equipped at birth with a penis are the worst at this over-reaction.

Maybe they are just deeply insecure?

Maybe I have autism?

Maybe I simply fail to kowtow to socio-political order and the pecking-order held in mind?

The specialist concerned, being a psychologist, wanted to know if my inquiry was about the cancer and dying. {See people make assumptions all the time!!} Because, I did not have enough witnesses about my pan-continental childhood and any extant parents, she was unable to complete the full diagnosis. She offered her opinion based on our conversation that I was not autistic. You could say it is/was moot. Either I am not autistic or I am damn good at masking. Place your bets.

It seems to me I keep coming across, mostly men, who react badly to me even if I am not challenging them. I could be delusional. There are a large number of observations where I don’t talk enough bullshit, pat backs and otherwise ritually sniff arseholes. Some how I am not laddie enough. It is so false and such a waste of time.

I have a hunch that I/we are in the fallout stage of one of these interactions. Face is very important so not a lot can be done.

One is not allowed to question deity and masculine medical deity in particular. It gets their hackles up.

Hey-ho…

I have started looking into alternative arrangements now…

The Price of Face

22 is the dark jewel egotism and it can create many catch 22 situations. People do not as a rule, in the common socio-political construct, like to lose face. This notion of “face” can be very expensive indeed.

One can cut off one’s nose to spite one’s face.

Face is the dreaming symbol for social self-image which belongs to the class of mayas and illusions. Despite what your social media tries to push, you are not the image imagined and advertised thereupon. That is just some stuff you made up.

People like to “win” arguments or battles in order to save “face”.

I have been in numerous situations where people have expected me to act in accordance with what they imagine face saving behaviour might be. They were fighting a “battle” on the assumption that the normal rules of society and “face” applied.

“He will come round, he will break. He will say sorry because of the guilt trip I laid upon him.”

When this does not happen a kind of catch 22 situation results. The protagonist does not want to lose face but starts to understand that holding breath and crossing fingers is not the answer. What to do? If one gives in, one loses faces. So, one cuts off one’s nose to spite one’s face and leaves a totally unnecessary bloody mess. Because the “he” here did not succumb to the manipulation a loss, perhaps profound has resulted. It was about something not real – face.

Face can be very expensive indeed.

Tens of thousands have people have died because people do not want to lose face.

Deterrence as it is often used / bandied about relies on this notion of face. 

“They killed a few thousand in October. How dare they!!”

“We will destroy their country, kill fifty thousand, maim a hundred thousand more so as to save face because we were caught napping! Are we not heroes? That’ll show them!”

People can try to justify so many things with this emotive notion of face. It is cyclical and silly.

He offended me, I must offend him back or get him cancelled as punishment. My face got upset that he called me fat even though my BMI is 40. I must make him pay for offending my face. I’ll send the message on my way going to the pharmacy for my Ozempic.

Face it seems requires punishment as deterrence for questions or contradictory versions of reality. Face does not like to be challenged because it is the outer expression of egotism, self-importance and victim martyr tendency…

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Has face and the attempt at preserving thereof ever worked out very expensive for you?

Was it worth it in the final analysis?

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