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

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.

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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.

Retreat Centre (dreaming) – Snake Bite Dream 01-09-2025

Here is last night’s dream had between 3:30 and 7 AM.

The dream starts somewhere in England. I am with a man who is slightly older than me, with grey-white hair. He is dressed in a casual cream-white linen suit and has a “posh” accent. He shows me into a detached building which I understand to be some kind of a retreat centre. He is very “arcane school” in his use of language and manner. He thinks that he is superior and more evolved than I. He ushers me into the building and to a conservatory at the back  of the kitchen. The others will be here soon.

We are joined by a few women of my age and slightly younger. They are all dressed in a vaguely posh-hippy manner with chunky jewellery and expensive died hair. Some are from SES. They are surprised to see me there. The man says that I am there at his invitation. They want to know a little bit about me.

I say that I have read very extensively into things “spiritual” and that in this lifetime I have been doing a dreaming practice since 2000. They say that they like dreams. I say that maybe they should keep a journal of what happens when I am with them because a being like me, from the deep South, can have a dramatic effect on dreaming. We are dreaming.

One of the women asks If I will help her put up the Christmas decorations, she is large and plump and clearly a dreamer by prediction also from the South. We put the decorations up. I start to play with a large great Dane dog on the floor.  I lie down with it face to face and we play. I the  say that we should eat. There is some resistance but soon we all pull the tables together. Lucy walks in and she is known to them. They are surprised that I know her too. I explain that we are exactly twenty years separated in birth having been born on the same day. They ask me if she lied to me. I say that she did not necessarily tell me the full truth.

I ask what time the village shop closes. It should be open until five. I go and return with some wine and cider; some bread and a chocolate log.

I go outside with Lucy and we stand on a hillock in the garden next to an apple tree. From there we can see the sea and perhaps France. I ask her how she is but she is off staring a little into the distance. We share a silence for a long time and then go back into the house.

I comment that when I was in the village, I saw large black bears. “What are you supposed to do?” They say make a lot of noise. I note in the dream that they do not know what will happen in the dreaming  because I am among them. They think they do, but they do not.

The scene changes to India. In a busy courtyard people are playing cricket. It is a makeshift pitch a bit like cricket nets. A young Indian man is batting with pads but no helmet. A tall Englishman in whites is bowling. He is being slogged all over. The bowler changes to a northerner. He picks up a thin black snake holding its head and jaws in his hand which he bowls at the batter. The batter misses. I go to inspect and pick up the snake. As I do this it bites my right hand on the fleshy part between thumb and index finger. I can feel it painlessly inject liquid. I gently ease the snake off my right hand with my left hand and it slithers off.

I start to feel a little unwell and a military type English man takes me up to his room. He wonders if I am allergic to the poison, the venom. If so, I will die. He puts me into his bed and calls for an ambulance. It will take many hours. The room is a shit tip and very tropical. I have the chills. He does not hold out much hope for me. He goes out onto the veranda to smoke. After a while I wake up refreshed and completely naked.  I see a pair of short navy-blue shorts on the internal washing line. They are like a pair I had 40 years ago. I put these shorts on and go out onto the veranda. The man is completely stunned and utterly shocked to see me up walking. The snake bite on my hand is completely healed. I say that I have nothing to worry about with nāgas.

The dream ends.