Tag: South Africa

South Africa – Richard W – Imperial College Colleagues Dream 29-06-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is last night’s dream.

The dream starts in the South African bundu or bush. I am driving along a rough dusty unmade road. The road goes up and own and has a yellow-orange bull dust. I am in an open sided Jeep like vehicle of a classical pedigree age. It is four wheel drive and contrasts with an antiseptic modern SUV. I am dressed in faded olive green park ranger type clothes with shorts. I have a pistol in a holster on my right hip, suitable for my left handedness. It is tremendous fun driving along the road / path. We are near a fairly fast flowing deep river like at the Augrabies falls which I visited two decades ago. I can hear a waterfall.

–

–

The sound of the water is loud. The wind is in my hair and I can smell and taste the dry bush all around me.

The scene changes and I am now in the UK. I am in a busy Tesco supermarket. People are queuing. Outside the air is dank and wet. There is a constant hum of urban traffic. In one of the checkout queues I see Richard W whom I know from school and UCL chemistry. He is miles away up in his head. I tap him on the shoulder. At first, he does not recognise me. Then when he does, he is totally surprised to see me. I motion to behind the checkouts and will wait for him there.

When he has checked out, he comes over to see me. Although he looks a lot younger than he would be now, I can see that life is getting him down and he lacks energy. I turn him around and stand behind him. I open up a battery compartment in his back by sliding off a plastic over. I take out the two AA style batteries which are there and replace them with two fresh ones from my pocket. These batteries are similar in colour and design to Duracell. I replace the plastic cover and Richard reboots.

There is a short break for a loo visit.

I return to the dream back into a dank drab UK urban environment. You can hear the noise the cars make on the wet road. I enter a large building which I do not know with some kind of large atrium. It is Imperial College and Chemistry related. The hallway / atrium is being renovated. I bump into various ex-colleagues {sequentially} who were at Imperial two decades ago, all of them now professors. There are more than half a dozen of them both men and women. They are slightly sheepish about meeting me, there is an air of awkwardness or embarrassment. They are unsure as to how to greet me and if to greet or acknowledge me at all. Two males with whom I worked are very noticeable by their absence. The absence speaks volumes. There is a weird feeling that the former colleagues are surprised to see me even though there is a sense for them that I never left.

I walk into some kind of a hallway. There are poster boards up with academic conference style poster presentations on a blue “felt” background. These are all chemistry related. I can see molecules and graphs. Walking past I think some things do not change despite modern technology. A poster is a poster. In the dream I do not know why I am there in that building with them. It seems anomalous to me if not to them.

The dream ends.

Dream of the Four Pronged nagal – 30-04-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream.

I am with Charlie whom I know to be an extrovert highly talkative nagal’s courier. We are in a courtyard with white stone walls some draped in rude pink bougainvillea. We are sat at a two seater small white bistro style table in the sun. He is talking animatedly and says that there are some people he would like me to meet. We are in a leafy rich suburb of Pretoria South Africa. He says again that are some people he would like me to meet, now.

The first is just around the corner. He leads me off to a small shopping / administrative area. There is a 1960s style polygon shaped building with a large, covered porch and outdoor seating. It is a community library and an outreach of the university. We enter and there are all sorts of posters in the vestibule advertising events. Behind the librarian’s desk is a medium height medium build white woman. She has an immaculate grey straight haired bob and is dressed in a well pressed blouse and trousers. There are small black butterflies as a motif on her white blouse. Around her neck on a lanyard are spectacles. Charlie introduces me and she speaks in a Germanic Dutch English accent. It is different from Afrikaans and highly educated. She says that she likes the East. I already know this, she is an Easterly Stalker who works at the university library most of the time. In her spare time, she is highly athletic and a free climber. She is lithe.

Charlie then leads me off South into a township near Cape Town. We go to a government run drop in centre / nursery. It is next to a pop-up health centre for adults with HIV. We go into the centre and I can immediately hear the booming tones of a large woman, who is telling someone off in a well humoured manner. She is laughing. As we approach, I can see a large buxom and overweight black woman with corn-row dreadlocks. She has a gold ring piercing in her left nostril and left ear. She is about six feet tall and, in all respects, larger than life. Around her are numerous toddlers and small children. It is chaotic yet somehow together. She hugs Charlie fiercely and squashes him to her bosom. When she sees me, she suddenly becomes coy and suspicious. She inspects me and breaks into a radiant ear to ear grin. There is no need for a hug because we can feel each other’s hearts. She is a Southerly Stalker.

Charlie then takes me to Western Cape to an isolated penitentiary inland from the coast. It is surrounded by razor wire and heavily guarded. We pull up to the guard house in our car. He stays in the car as only I am allowed in. The guards have been expecting me. They open the gate and let me in. I walk in unaccompanied. There are no more guards. I open the first gate and then a door. Inside in a dark room of considerable size there is an electric fence surrounding an enclosure. On it are danger high-voltage signs. I can see a man inside the enclosure. He is wearing a wide brimmed hat and a long dark brown bushwhacker’s coat. I can pass through the electric fence without any problems, with ease. I know that it does not constrain him either. We are at home in the darkness of the room. We stand brooding together in the darkness. He is a Man Behind the Scenes and I know him to be seventh ray. I can see his eyes but not his face in the darkness. We know each other very well, across lifetimes.

The dream ends.

House Renovation – Dead People – Dream Within a Dream 23-01-2025

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This dream was highly unusual firstly because it finished ~ 8 AM, which is late and secondly because of the utter vividness of the last segment. The wife said that I was thrashing about in bed before waking.

As usual I am aware that I am dreaming. We are having a terraced house renovated. It is one of the many Victorian houses in London. The wife and I are going to visit to see how things are going. The front door is wide open, so we knock, shout hello and go in. There are a few young decorators including a black man in overalls in the ground floor back and a young white woman in dungarees up a ladder. From her hair cut and demeanour I know that she is a butch lesbian. She has a roll up cigarette in her mouth and her hair is tied with a red kerchief. We ask how it is going and she says that the are pretty much on schedule.

The wife needs to get the tube to Wimbledon for work and I know we are in South London. As we go to leave the woman says to me, “as-salāmu ʿalaykum.” I say the same thing back and she says no I must say, “wa ʿalaykumu s-salām”. Which I do and we have a laugh. I say, “see you soon”. I know that she is not Muslim.

As we leave the property the wife is partially down the street. I call for her to stop. I am wearing black knee length riding boots. I take these off and put them in the pile of debris in the front “garden”. I catch up with the wife barefoot. We head off to the underground.

Later in the dream I return to the house around dusk. I can’t at first see it. Then I see a bright pastel blue two seater sofa in the bay window and bright royal blue walls. I know this to be the place. So again, I knock and shout hello before entering. The doors are unlocked. In the back room I find the black man he has finished for the day and his overalls are on the back of a chair. He is sat looking at something on the dresser. He has round wire rimmed spectacles on and I know that although he is decorating he is scholarly. We inspect an antique radio made out of finest wood veneer. It is playing a radio station. The wires are old school entwined pair. Slowly with a jeweller’s screw driver he lifts the top off so that we can look at the mechanism. Where I was expecting some valve amplification of signal someone has patched in a FET amplifier circuit. We both comment that this devalues the piece but both agree it is a thing of beauty. He asks me what the story of the house is.

I say that the previous owner lived here for around ninety years and before that his dad. The house has been in the family since construction. He has recently died.

At this moment an older man appears he is dressed in tweeds. He asks, “what did you say about my son?” I say that I did not know him personally but the rumour is that he was a very genteel and nice man. I know that I am talking to the ghost father of the previous owner. He shows me to a cupboard where there is a magnificent brass telescope and tripod for bird watching. I ask what the arrangement for picking up the keys is when the decorating is finished. He says that someone from the office will be in touch. I note a very feint hint of Afrikaans accent. I leave and go home.

Next, I awake with a start in a double bed with crisp linen sheets and a polished wooden frame in a dark antique wood. There is an antique dresser made to the same high standard and of the same dark wood (mahogany?). I am in the down stairs bedroom of the house. There is a window looking out onto the back “garden”. I know in the dream that I am dreaming the room and the bed. I must wake up so that I can get back to my normal bed. On the dresser are two highly unusual pill bottles. They are bright lurid purple with small white metallic bottle tops. I try to read the handwritten labels. I cannot discern clearly. The glass of the bottles is opaque. I wonder if I am supposed to take them in the dream. I decide not to.

In the room next which is now of large proportions I see the father and son dressed in a manner of the early part of the twentieth century looking at a large table with maps and charts on. There is an architectural drawing on an easel. The father is smoking an old style pipe and has a watch on a chain. They do not see me.

I go back to the bedroom to try to figure out what to do.

I lie down on the bed and something inside draws me to look at the window. I see a female face pressed against the window. I am utterly startled in the dream, shocked. I clasp my hands to my chest and say “fuck”.  The woman sees that she has startled me and apologises profusely. She gestures for me to open the back door. I do this and let her in. She says that she has not been in the house for a long time. She is dressed in a modest sized vintage bustle dress of a maroon colour. She says that she has come to observe what is going on. I note a South African accent. She says that back in the day her father had a roving eye and that they suspected he had a mistress in London. He used to travel regularly between home, the plantation, and London. She thinks it possible that her “brother” got the house instead of her. Implied is that the house owner is her half-brother by another woman.

The dream ends and I wake with a start. Where did that come from?

The first thought was of a reversionary property the wife has and what if someone has just died.

Chameleon – Fire – Keys -Butterfly – Cousins Dream 11-12-2024

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This dream was between 4:55 AM and 6:30 AM it is followed by a less dreamy attempt to rejoin the dream.

The dream is set outdoors on some kind of patio. In front of me is a raised fire pit. It is made out of fired clay and is light terracotta in colour. The pit is a kind of hand-made grate with a quasi-oval ring of clay supported on pillars of clay about a foot tall. The idea is that there is great air circulation into the fire pit.

On the floor next to the pit is a large chameleon lizard. It is sandy-brown and about the size of my foot. I pick the lizard up lovingly with my hand and it comes willingly. I place the lizard in one side of the fire pit and it lies snug against the wall altering its colour slightly to blend in.

On the other side of the pit, I make a fire with pieces of wood. The fire blazes too quickly. I add more larger pieces of wood. The fire stabilizes and burns more quietly. The chameleon is unharmed.

In the fire pit I notice an old style wrap around key fob in brown leather. I cannot see if there are any keys in the fob or not. I pick the fob out of the pit and put it in my pocket. It feels heavy.

–

–

I continue to look at the fire and tend it.

My eyes are drawn to my right hand. I can see a black suit jacket sleeve with several buttons. Inside the sleeve is a buttoned white dress shirt. Both are incredibly crisp and well ironed. Out of the gap between shirt and jacket I extract, by encouragement with my left hand, a large hand sized pale yellow butterfly. The wings are in two segments so that you can see four segments. Its appearance is like a magic trick and there are flecks of gold in the yellow. It flies out of the sleeve and circles me several times

–

–

The butterfly flies off.

In one corner of the patio, I see two young women. One of them is light brown with a black Muslim head scarf. She is dressed in black. The other one is wearing white and is of European extraction.

The brown one asks me if I recognise them. She is flirty and cheeky.

No.

She says that they are my cousins and that she knows me. She says that I should have recognised them from Wales. We are related through Cristiaan’s wife from South Africa. She has a mild Afrikaans accent.

–

I wake and the wife tells me it is 6:30 AM when she gets back into bed.

–

I intend to rejoin the dream. I enter a sports hall wearing my bright red WRU t-shirt. As I do so the man running the gym says that Wales are not doing so well at rugby. I agree. I go into the bathroom to piss. I am in a cubicle and note that it opens out from the male changing room into the female one. I change cubicles. When I am finished, I wash my hands ritually.

Outside in the corridor I am seized by several men who have their hands on my arms. They are trying to pull me away and drag me with them. I use Ki to prevent them from shifting me. D is watching and he can see from my mudra-like hand positions that they have no chance of getting me to budge no matter how much effort they expend.

The scene changes and I am outside around a campfire with some middle aged women. They have asked me to cook my famous chicken and fish casserole for them. Despite this request they keep interfering with the way in which I am preparing the casserole. They keep trying to tell me what to do. I pick up a large slice of bacon which I tear with my bare hands to add flavour to the oil. They look shocked that I have used my bare hands. I explain that I washed them thoroughly earlier.

Dream ends.