With human nature being as it is if you offer someone an apparently low risk “quick” shortcut to just about any situation, they will take it in preference over a risky more long term perhaps considered path. In movies this shortcut mentality often leads people into dire situations which might have been avoided. In wanting the easy out they can fuck up and badly so. People avoid effort and application and can find themselves up the proverbial creek in a barbed wire canoe.
This tendency could be easily exploited. I know this well.
Most people bodge, cut corners and have a hasty slapdash mentality. Patience is as rare as a full refreshing fresh water lagoon on the Nullarbor plain in dry season. People like band aid fixes, an Elastoplast quick answer. One that gets a “problem” off the desk at least for the time being. Better still if they can palm the “problem” off onto someone else, make it an SEP. The greasy buck never stops.
The problem is that shoddy and slapdash can create more problems than it solves.
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Today I have been cleaning out the sewerage drains to the cess pit. They have been problematic since we arrived. They are designed for old-school high cistern tsunami-flush systems not modern eco-cistern flushes. I tend to have to clean about twice a year and my plumber’s rods have paid for themselves in saved money many times over.
We could call it “Zen and the Art of Cleaning out the Shitter”.
The idea being that it is a job that needs done before my bionic hip.
Because my motion is increasingly spastic I could not perform one of the fiddly tasks to get a rod around a partial U-bend. I tried and had to ask the wife to help. There was a choice to do a partial clean and maintenance or do a thorough job. She was able to do the fiddly bit and I was able to finish a thorough job. The rods, now washed, are drying on the drive.
I was less Zen today because of the awkwardness of my body and the pain in my hips.
Similarly the ceiling in the lounge could use another coat of paint at one end. We could leave it or I could do it tomorrow. The temptation to let standards drop is stronger because of my incapacity. We have already made a few compromises. They are realistic. Time is running out a little.
I would like to have all the “heavy” tasks out of the way before they slice me up. I don’t know how incapacitated I will be nor for how long. There are some things that only I can do.
People can mistake being slapdash as being clever or cunning. Cleverness is not the same as wisdom which prefers a more thorough approach.
Wisdom can appear to take more time in the short term, but in the integral over all events, thoroughness is often a saver of time.
Slapdash people never get to see the experimental data which backs us this postulate {above}. They are hasty and prejudiced. They KNOW they are right.
“Once, when the World-Honoured One in ancient times was upon Vulture Peak, he held up a flower before the assembly of monks. At this all were silent. The Venerable Kashyapa alone broke into a smile. The World-Honoured One said, “I have the all-pervading Eye of the True Dharma, the Secret Heart of Incomparable Nirvana, the True Aspect of Formless Form. It does not rely on letters and is transmitted outside the sutras. I now hand it on to Mahakashyapa.”
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Following on from this morning’s dream post I have done a brief search at Espacenet using the key word “Telepathy”. It returned ~ 350 results most of which were nothing to do with the so-called psychic phenomenon. There were “Remote Viewing Amplifiers”, divining rods and pendulums. There were games for measuring ESP and methods for recording spiritualistic contacts. There were claims for psychotropic drugs and concentrating healing energies. There were UK, USA, Chinese, Russian and Korean filings. First pass suggests that few or none went all the way to grant.
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Mind to mind transfer is a key part of Zen hagiography and a corner stone of some martial arts. Many “scientific” ESP studies have used cards which are very boring and easily forgotten. Who cares about squares, and wavey lines? Not me. They were bound to fail.
Telepathic interference in so called quantum technologies would be a seismic disruptive technology. Quantum hacking and denial of service would change the landscape. There could be a telepathy arms race.
How might you do it? Well meditate extensively every life for twenty or more lifetimes…
It is not the kind of thing to pitch to a VC as an enabling technology. Where is my ROI?
The idea could be the bones for a sci-fi book, Quantum Computing enabled powerful tech bros undone by geezers with bald heads and saffron robes.
The notion has appealed and I’ll probably struggle to get it out of my head, just like a Rick Astley song…
In around 2003 whilst living in London and working as a lecturer in Physical Chemistry at Imperial College in London I started having waking visions of myself dressed as a Buddhist monk / priest. These visions overlaid normal day to day reality and I was able to lecture to a theatre full of ~one hundred students on chemical reaction kinetics or in smaller groups, chemical applications of group theory, whilst these visions were resident. They persisted on the crowded Victoria Line tube trains. I had repeat visions of om mane padme hum tattooed in Sanskrit on my inner forearms. Accompanying these images was/is the sensation of tattoo. These visions lasted on and on for over a year.
I did not mention this to anyone because I thought it would not go down well in the Chemistry department. I thought human resources might not appreciate this and occupational health might be consulted.
I however was pretty sure that this was past life recall.
Obviously, it is impossible to prove scientifically, that any past life recall is real. At best there can be what the courts call, circumstantial evidence. Dreaming comprises some of this kind of evidence.
In 2009 I had a series of visionary telepathic conversations, early in the morning, walking in the woods near Tring with the master Djwhal Kuhl. He told me of five of my previous lives, two of which were Buddhist. He said that I had been a very close disciple of Siddartha.
The dream yesterday has added Nāgārjuna to the list of possible life-candidates.
Irrespective of accuracy or otherwise the theme of scholasticism and scholar runs through all the/my putative incarnations as does the theme of entrepreneurship. I am “on” the second ray, of the Elephant dreaming class and conditioned by love-wisdom, the teaching ray.
One dream suggests that I was Bakula a close disciple of Siddartha who came late to the path after a scholarly life.
Yesterday’s dream suggests some six hundred years later Nāgārjuna. Who was a “founder” of Mahayana and may have taught at Nalanda university.
Another dream has pointed at a saffron trousered Muay Thai trained Burmese / Thai incarnation, a monk/priest/protector.
Then there is dreaming evidence of a Japanese Vajrayana monk incarnation, with poetry.
{The feeling for me is that I also had a Japanese Zen life but no dreams as yet}.
The next two lives were not substantially Buddhist.
Of late there has been increasing “evidence” for a 20th century incarnation as a Tibetan Buddhist. So far there is no evidence of a named individual. If it was a sequential birth then they need to have died before or in early 1964. If it is a shared emanation then there is no strict constraint of time frame.
It is not for me beyond the realms of possibility that I have had five {six} incarnations with a dominant Buddhist flavour and of a non lay orientation.
It is not going to detrimentally affect my career prospects to write about this here and now.
I can just be some crazy eccentric old git living like a quasi-hermit.
Here is this morning’s dream had between 3 and 6 AM.
The dream starts in a non-chain coffee shop similar to one I once went to in San Jose. It has a Berkley – San Francisco feel. There is wooden panelling and stools up to an island style table. They are the same height as lab stools but out of wood with an inbuilt orange-red “cushion”. I am with a young man {~40} who is very excited and energised. He is dressed smartly and known to me though I cannot see who he is. We are to meet an acquaintance of his who is some relatively big shot tech entrepreneur. He is wealthy and now investing.
A man comes in with a small entourage. He is wearing a dark suit with unruly black hair. His shirt is unbuttoned. He spies my companion across the room and motions for his entourage to be seated. He comes over. My companion gets up and they great each other profusely as “bros” in a transatlantic accent. The entrepreneur is also in his 40s. He sits on a stool opposite me and has the air of someone in a rush used to not wasting time.
My companion introduces me as the ex-academic mystic he has been talking about. The entrepreneur is setting up some kind of endeavour looking into consciousness studies. He asks me how I got involved. I explain that my first formal introduction into meditation was during Kyokushin Karate training and the zen meditation therein. I demonstrate a brief series of karate style chudan-ski punches. I explain that I looked into shamanism. And that later I did some very pioneering meditation.
The man decides that he wants me “on board”. I know in the dream beyond any doubt that he has not the faintest idea what he is letting himself in for nor what I am capable of. He has no clue what I am. He is completely unaware of his ignorance and full of bluster.
The scene changes and I am now in a red brick UK mansion in an upper floor large room. The entrepreneur is sat there with some of the people he has gathered. I am there too, near a large sash window. I am standing. A part of the motivation of the entrepreneur is to understand his father, his meditation and what has happened to him after death.
I look out onto the lawn and sat there cross legged is a large white man with a complelety bald head and a massive ZZ top beard. He is meditating in the light rain, his hands in mudras in his lap. The sun is behind him and I can see at the far end of the lawn a faint rainbow lit up in the rain. The man on the lawn and I know each other well. We go way back, lifetimes.
At one time the Buddha, together with bhikṣus and Bodhisattvas, was staying in the city kingdom of Kuśinagara, where He would enter parinirvāṇa in three months. Countless multitudes came to the Buddha and bowed their heads down to the ground. Surrounded by His devotees longing to hear the Dharma, the World-Honored One remained silent, and His radiance did not manifest.
The venerable Ānanda made obeisance to the Buddha and asked Him, “When the World-Honored One pronounces the Dharma, His awesome radiance is always displayed before and after. Now in this huge assembly, His radiance does not appear. Why is this so? There must be a reason. I pray to hear its implication.”
The Buddha remained silent, not responding. After Ānanda asked this question for the third time, the Buddha told Ānanda, “After my parinirvāṇa, as the Dharma comes to an end, the way of the māras will thrive in this world of the five turbidities. Māras will appear as śramaṇas so as to undermine and destroy my Way. They will wear lay clothes and delight in the monk’s robe dyed with a mixture of five colors. To gratify ravenous appetites, they will drink alcohol, eat flesh, and kill sentient beings. Devoid of lovingkindness, they will hate and envy others.
“At that time, there will be Bodhisattvas, Pratyekabuddhas, and Arhats, who energetically cultivate virtue and treat all with respect. Esteemed by all, they will teach and transform others impartially. They will pity the poor and old, and help the needy and unfortunate. They will teach others to revere and uphold the sūtras and the holy images. Kind and benevolent in nature, they will do meritorious karmas. Never harming others, they will disregard any harm to themselves in order to help others. Kind and friendly, they will endure abuse, not protecting themselves.
“Although there will be such good people, all māra bhikṣus will be jealous of them. They will slander, malign, and banish them. Afterward, individually and as a group, the māra bhikṣus will not cultivate virtue. Temples will be deserted, falling into disrepair then into ruins. Greedy for material wealth, they will accumulate things, not using them to acquire merit. They will sell slaves to work in the fields. Devoid of lovingkindness, they will burn mountain forests, harming sentient beings. Male slaves will become bhikṣus, and female slaves will become bhikṣuṇīs. Devoid of morality, they will engage in sexual debauchery and perversion, whether with men or women. Such people will cause my Way to fade away.
“Some of them will seek sanctuary in my Order to escape prosecution by the law. They will become śramaṇas but will not observe the precepts or regulations. Although they will, in appearance, recite the precepts on new-moon and full-moon days, they will be reluctant and indolent, not wanting to hear the recitation. They will omit some precepts, not wanting to recite all of them. They will not recite or study the sūtras. If there are readers who do not know the words [in the sūtras], they will claim that they know them. They will not consult the learned ones, but will instead seek fame for self-elevation. They will glorify themselves with fake elegant ways, expecting offerings from others. For committing any of the five rebellious sins, after death, these māra bhikṣus will fall into the hell of uninterrupted suffering. They will then be reborn as animals or hungry ghosts for as many kalpas as the sands of the Ganges. After their sins have been purged, they will be reborn [as humans] in a fringe country where the Three Jewels will not be accessible.
“When the Dharma is ending, women will diligently do meritorious karmas while men will be indolent and arrogant. Men, having no faith, will not use the words in the Dharma, but will regard śramaṇas as feces and dirt. When the Dharma is ending, gods will shed tears. Flood and drought will ravage, and five kinds of grain will not ripen. Epidemics will be prevalent and many will die. People will endure a hard life, and government officials will exploit them. People will not follow good principles, thinking only of pleasure and strife. The evil ones will become as numerous as the sands in the sea. The good ones will decrease to one or two. As a kalpa is ending, the sun and the moon will be unstable and human lifespan will shorten. At the age of 40, one’s hair will turn white. Men indulging in sexual acts may die prematurely from depletion of their semen, or may live to only 60. While men will live short lives, women will live long to 70, 80, 90, or even 100 years. Faithless people will say that the situation can be permanent.
“A massive flood will suddenly rise, lasting endlessly. Various species of sentient beings, lofty or lowly, will drown or drift in the waters, and they will be eaten by fish and other sea creatures. Bodhisattvas, Pratyekabuddhas, and Arhats, driven away by the māras, will not convene. [These holy beings of] the Three Vehicles will enter the meritorious grounds in the mountains. There they will live a long life, tranquilly biding their time. They will meet with one another when the god-kings escort Moonlight Bodhisattva to appear in the world. Together they will revitalize my Dharma for fifty-two years.
“Then the Śūraṅgama Sūtra and the Pratyutpanna Buddha Sammukhāvasthita Samādhi Sūtra will be destroyed, to be followed by all other sūtras in the twelve categories. Their words will not be seen again. The monk’s robe will naturally turn white. When my Dharma perishes, it will be like [the flame of] an oil lamp. When it is dying, its light becomes brighter for a while then dies out. When my Dharma perishes, it will be like the extinction of a lamp. What will happen afterward is hard to describe. Eventually, after tens of millions of years, Maitreya Bodhisattva will descend to this world to become a Buddha. All toxic gases will then be eliminated, and the world will be safe and peaceful. The rains will be harmonious and the five grains will thrive. The trees will be tall, and humans will each be eighty feet tall, with a lifespan of 84,000 years. Innumerable sentient beings will be delivered.”
The venerable Ānanda made obeisance to the Buddha and asked Him, “What should we call this sūtra? How should we uphold it?”
The Buddha replied, “Ānanda, this sūtra is called Total Annihilation of the Dharma. Pronounce it to all and let them know its significance. Your merit will be immeasurable, beyond reckoning.”
The four groups of disciples, having heard this sūtra, were distressed and downcast, but they all activated their resolve to attain the unsurpassed bodhi. Then they made obeisance to the Buddha and departed.
Some people might think that I am/was a complete nut job for getting out of a contract which would have paid 8000 euros a month tax free, over a decade ago. I must have been out of my mind. Others might think me whacko for a number of my beliefs and that I have lost my mind. Why would a trained scientist not strive for recognition and research funding. Why renounce his job at a world “top ten” university? He must be barking mad and batshit crazy to boot.
I have lost my mind but not in the way people might think.
In general, my mind / head is a very quiet place. There is no continuous chatter of internal dialog. I am not busy with should and ought, nor is comparison mind resident there. My mental default is silence. I can observe, I can experience and absorb. I can hear and see, but there is no mind making endless qualitative thinking. If I want to think I have to actively engage my mind. It does not run off like a horse when the stable door is opened.
I could say that my “mind” differs from most. I know that it has changed markedly over the last two decades. But there is no way that I can explain or illustrate in a meaningful way what my “mind” is like to anyone suffering from internal dialogue or very attached to the common socio-political assimilation of world and society. I once experienced that world first hand as an active participant. I no longer do/am.
I still look much the way I used to but the animating contents of the meaty body are now changed. People might struggle to understand that I am not as I was and interpret me in terms of an old look up table of behaviour and manner. I’ll speculate that many would not get it or me. My assimilation of world is different, I cannot prove this to you or anyone really. It would take sharing a considerable amount of time and circumstance to appreciate and I would have to extrovert my thoughts and thinking in order for people to see just how different. I can still interpret events from a “normal” perspective but I do not share the emotions many are beholden to. I can appear to fit in and comply with the common world views.
In the Zen literature there is a lot of mention of Buddha nature. If I understand Zen at all it is to live fully in the present and at the point before mind knowing that as observer you are also participant and not separate from the arising phenomena. Zen does not like definitions because that is a feature of comparison mind and a definition by definition invites comparison to said definition which is “mind”. People stress over definition and argue the toss. Buddha nature is offered as a way of being, a nebulous ideal which exists when mind is fully quiescent. Most of the Zen koans are devised to show just how much mind trips one up and self-entangles. They point at not using mind the way which it is customary so to do.
In order to be “Zen”, one has to lose one’s mind and yet remain sane.
However, what is considered sane in the common socio-political assimilation of world, is all “mind” and therefore insane. If people like their possessions and acquisitional materialism, to detach from these would be considered lunacy by many. A wide empty path is the road of the lunatic who disavows possession, grabbing and the socio-political accumulation of kudos and social power.
Kudos is illusion in Zen and Buddhism as a whole. Yet many seek it with a passion.
Although people use Zen as an adjective for calm, they are not interested in attaining it because it requires that they forego the common world view. As we all know you cannot have your cake and eat it.
How is my logic?
Do we live in a sane world?
Is there an increasing problem with mental health as measured to the normative socio-political construct?
I have lost my “mind” does that make more or less sane than you?
I am somehow going around town spraying foam on people I walk with others, and this is for their protection.
I go into a shop. It is old and wooden there. A Ghurkha dressed in a kilt is there, he is talking with the shopkeeper. I tell him that my dad used to work with the 7th army, specifically he was assigned to the Seventh Ghurkha Regiment.
I note the golden medal he is wearing. On it are a golden Caduceus and an image of a swastika. {the correct non-Nazi way round}. He had not seen the swastika before and is a little upset. I explain that I have a golden caduceus too. It is not with me today as it is being examined by another of his kind who is also looking at my Father’s will.
In real life my physical plane father did indeed work with Ghurkhas in the Malayan Emergency and as I have just found out 7th Gurkha Rifles was there at the same time. He was given a Kukri by the Ghurkhas as a gift of honour. I remember it well. He was Second Lieutenant acting Captain in REME during his national service. Because they believed in fate, he said that they had absolutely no fear and did crazy stuff full of courage. I did not know of the number of Ghurkha regiments until 10 minutes ago.
{This added text written in 2023}
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Trigonal Pyramids –Tricorn Hat – Splitting Dream 27-03-2011
I am returning from a flight and arrive at the airport. There is a sense of extensive travel. There is an image of Rob. He is splitting in two, he has two heads. In my hand I hold the “reflexis” cube. In which I see this. This cube is an “impossible” geometric object made up of two trigonal pyramids to make a cube, the top surface of which is highly reflective.
I am sharing a flat with Rob. A man comes to fix his stereo. He is giving attention to his valve amps. He says to me with a wink that my type of amplifier is better. I comment that I only had to change the valves once. Rob’s amp has an element of show whilst mine is more practical. The valves on my amp are glowing.
Later I am going for a meeting and arrive at Oxford Street. I notice Rob heading to UCL. He does not see me nor recognise me. I am wearing sunglasses. I try to talk with him. All roads lead to UCL.
Then in another world Rob has willed himself into the court. He is in every room at the same time. He is dressed as a jester with a three-pointed tricorn hat. In one room he is multi-coloured in and other room he is black and white to match the black and white tiled floor. It is only since he has been split that he can do this. They are waiting for me.
Outside as I approach there is a cat watching some hedgehogs and rabbits play on the lawn. The cat pounces on a hedgehog and gets a “thorn” in its paw. I help it and get the thorn out; I say to it that it is being silly. It then watches the rabbits and pounces on one. It has a small one in its mouth which it is going to eat. I note this and move off into the court.
The dream the repeats itself several times, especially the bit about the splitting, the “reflexis” cube and the image of the jester like figure in a tricorn hat.
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Triskélion La Maison Dieu Dream- 4-11- 2011
I am flying over landscape after landscape watching towers made of rough-hewn stone being struck by lightning. One after the other they are ruptured and destroyed. They are of all shapes and sizes, some tall and thin others, stout and medieval. The scenes continue to unfold against the backdrop of a dark stormy sky. It seems to go on for ages.
I am aware that this is Liberation Through the Power of Intent in Action. In the dream I call up the card La Maison Dieu to view and I start to write poetry on the subject of it. It is important that people understand La Maison Dieu.
The scene changes and I am now floating like Jason Borne on the sea. I am in a space with no walls. In front of me is a three legged “wheel”, shaped like a Triskelion or three-armed swastika. It is very definitely a “wheel”, and I am looking at the central part. I cannot see any circular part yet there is a strong feeling that it is somehow there.
The parts of the “spokes” closest to the “axle” are red in colour. The parts further away are made of gold. There is no axle, simply a hole where the axle might be. The hole is circular. I am willingly tied to the Triskelion. The wheel starts to rotate in space and I with it. As the rotation speeds up, I start to merge with the Triskelion. I become it and it me. Now I can not be seen only the red and gold Triskelion spinning at a tremendous pace. This starts to move off through Space and Time. I have become the cog in the wheel.
Here is as excerpt from a much longer dream a so-called four pager.
There is a steep incline / cliff. I climb over the fence with my laptop and start to descend the cliff. The cliff starts to give way and I surf with it to the bottom. I am now in a dry riverbed. There is only a small amount of water. I follow the river under the motorway to a place where two rivers join. The is a black forest style house there. I go into the house. There is a fire burning on the hearth.
There is a small wooden chair. It has a solid back with two cut out shapes. I sit on the chair. It is someone else’s chair. I get up and sit on another chair. I put the other person’s chair up on a bed so that I can get a better look at it. As I do so I bang heads with whoever is on the chair. Slowly a cat materializes on the chair, and we start to have a conversation. There are a series of puzzles for me to solve in the house.
Out of the ceiling a construction comprising wooden squares suspended by string materializes forming a tunnel. I am to go up this tunnel. I start but because of the breadth of my shoulders I get temporarily stuck. At this point I can see a seminar where people are looking at a screen and there is an overhead projector projecting transparencies on the wall. People are sat around the table trying to understand the codes in the transparencies. I make my way to the back of the room and ask if the projector is in focus. The guy projecting adjusts the focus in and out. Those watching can’t solve the first riddle. I note that the first clue suddenly resolves into:
” SYNTHESIS”
We move on and a piece of Battenburg cake comprising four squares of yellow and pink appears.
It cuts itself into three equal sections roughly centred at the middle. I know that I am like the cake cut into three equal sections. This is my configuration.
I continue on, cognizant of the theme “needing to solve puzzles.“
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Dream ends.
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18 Flames – 17 Flames – Mossad Dream 31-1-21
Here is the first of last night’s dream which were had either side of a piece of very squally and stormy weather.
The dream is set in a hospital which is similar in feel to the one locally where I was admitted previously. I am sat up in a chair fully clothed and there is high technology medical apparatus around me. In the room are two young men in army fatigues and with weapons. They each have a western style assault rifle and a handgun in a holster. One of them has a circular close-fitting hat on and he has ginger coloured hair and freckles, the other is darker of complexion.
Suddenly out of the hat small blue flames, several inches in length start to burn in a circle round the man’s head. I count them and there are eighteen in total. I know in the dream that this man is my nagal’s courier and he is reflecting for me the eighteen blue flames of my courage.
I turn to the other man, and he has blue flames arranged in a circle too. I count these and they are seventeen in number. In the dream I am surprised because he feels like a southerly stalker and should by rights be a woman. It strikes me as odd. So, I think that he must be my courier to the Scholar representing the other part of my predilection.
I take note of the numbers 18 and 17, the jewels courage and discrimination or discernment.
Into the room comes a male doctor and two female nurses. They are all wearing white coats. They are going to take samples from me. I ask if I can have some local anaesthetic, some lidocaine. They say that it is better that I do not. The man does something and then I am moved away to another room.
The nurses do not get a chance to take their samples.
I am now in a large room with a single large table in it. The nurses are with me. I say that they can take their samples now. I take off my shirt and lie on the large table. They take out their instruments and cut several pieces of flesh from my right side. I have raised my arm for them to do this and do not flinch. They put the samples into sample bottles which then then put into the pockets of their white coats. They leave the room. I sit up on the table and put my shirt back on, there is no blood.
The ginger haired man from before comes in. He is now wearing a security earpiece wire. He says that he is from Mossad and here to protect me. He is now also wearing a Kevlar chest shield and has a helmet in one hand and assault rifle in another. He says that there are seventeen of his colleagues, also from Mossad, around the perimeter to protect me and keep me safe. I have been brought here for my own protection and together with the seventeen colleagues he makes eighteen all of whom are to keep me safe and secure.
Dream ends.
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Nagal’s Courier Dream 2-2-22
This is the first very vivid dream that I have had in a long while and on a morning with a whole heap of 2s.
I am at a small fishing port walking along the harbour wall. In the near distance I see a dark-haired man leaning against a parked Ducati motorbike. He is wearing leathers. I know this man to be A, a dreaming nagal’s courier. I approach him and say hi. He is very sceptical and not-trusting.
I explain that I need to make him aware of some things because there has been a lot of misinformation floating around. I say that when I stopped interacting closely with Théun my dreaming colour changed from indigo-purple to indigo-blue. The shade deepened and became much more vivid. I am certain that it meant that I was a second ray being an Elephant and not a Wolf. I ask him a metaphorical question, “How is your dreaming colour now?”
I explain that there is plenty of “evidence” from dreams and omens that I am a nagal being and not a Man of Action as Théun had suggested. I had been trying this hypothesis on, as is my want. The dreams both mine and the wife’s suggest that I am doubly severed and therefore a three pronged nagal being. Indeed, I had a traumatic experience entirely consistent with the second severing. My secondary predilection is for the East and thus I am a philosophical nagal and radically different in approach to Théun. A second ray dreaming philosophical nagal is an altogether different beast.
I say that in my opinion there was a whole bunch of stupid shit going on back in the day. I say that I have said what I needed to say.
The dream ends.
This dream follows on from an earlier one in which I was verbalising the rule of the four-pronged nagal for a bunch of students.
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Himalaya Foothills Dream 19-06-23.
Before the dream started, I had a very persistent thought form in which I thought “humanity is no longer Darwinian”. This seed thought pointed to the fact that the process of natural selection has been inhibited by modern life. There is no longer exclusively a survival of the fittest. Lifeforms which would have died out survive and the evolution of the human species is stunted. People in the west do not currently have to fight to live, they can eke and survive.
The dream starts with me looking down at my bare feet they are on a concrete floor painted a very deep shade of red and I am wearing loose weave ethnic trousers, of a magenta shade. I can feel the cool floor under my feet. I am indoors and the refuge from the heat is welcome. I am sitting in a wicker chair on a white cushion.
I stand up and leave my residence to go to the hotel / hostel which is downhill from me. I am in a small town on the side of deep ravine in the Himalayan foothills. I have been here for quite some time. I am at home. There are people milling about in the street. They are brown skinned with jet black hair and of slim stature. A couple of the children wave at me, they follow me down the street. There is a sense of accustomed play.
I get to the hotel and go up to the communal dining area. There people are making themselves a meal. It is all very ad hoc. I recognise some of them from London 20 odd years ago. Amongst them is Alexandros {nagal’s courier}. He is tall and has suffered badly from middle age spread. I motion to him and we go out into the small private garden. I ask him why he is here. He says that when I left ages ago, I told him that he should be sensible and keep safe. He has come with the others for me. We go back inside and there is an air of expectancy in the dining room. I leave.
I make my way back up the hill and try to cross a drain into a shaded porch area of an emporium serving tea. I struggle and nearly trip. A young Nepalese man (Gurkha?) grabs my arm and says, “you need to be more careful sahib.” I am a little surprise by his tone. He sits me down. It is clear that I am struggling to move and in some considerable physical pain. He says that we need to build up reserves because we are going to have to walk through the mountain pass at 3400 metres. It is a long way but we think that you can make it. The pass is to the North of the town in the dream. He says that he and his brother will be there with me all the way and that it is their job to guide and protect me. They have been assigned.
I step out onto what passes for the town square chiselled into the mountain side. I can smell the mountain air, rich and pungent from the plants on the mountainside. I can see the Himalaya massif resplendent in the morning light. It looks magnificent and formidable. Around the square a couple of light brown skinny dogs are playing in the shade of a tree.
To the side of the square is a small open stone wall. There are stones on top of short pillars. I go to sit on the wall and the Nepalese man comes and sits next to me. Down in the valley on a road winding up to the town there are several people and loaded pack donkeys. They are making their way; they are European and are assisted by locals. I recognise some of the Europeans. I ask the guide, “why are they coming here?” He says that “of course they have come to see you sahib. There will be others too.”
Dream ends.
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Rule of the Four Pronged nagal – Numerology Dream 17-08-23
Just because there was not enough weirdness already here is this morning’s dream.
The dream opens with a quintessential English village fete set in a green and sloping park. The park has trees around the circumference and is lushly grassed. There are stalls selling produce, a Tombola stand, a Pimm’s tent, bric-a-brac and an inflatable play area for the children. There is a small crowd of English people at the event. The atmosphere is summer and nice. Everyone is relaxed and there is a nice hubbub.
At the corner of one stand, I notice a talk young man with dark hair who resembles A whom I know to be a nagal’s courier. I go over to him to say hello. I say that I need to tell him about the rule of the four pronged nagal. He already knows that he is a nagal’s courier. He says that only nagals should narrate the rule. He doubts that I am nagal. His jewel is 20, honour.
I walk to the side of the fete near the trees. I hold his attention with my eyes. I run down the slope and take off flying down the slope and then back up to close to hum. He says, “that was stupid, everyone could see you!” I motion to the crowd they are going about their business as usual. I say that the display was only for him and his eyes. He says, “OK. I’ll buy it you are nagal.”
We head off into a European piazza, Italianate in character. There is much buzz. We head off into a taverna which is busy. There sat on a table is a middle aged balding ginger man. He is entertaining his table with stories. He does not look entirely well. I say to the nagal’s courier that he is a Man of Action. He replies that I should go and tell him. I say that it must be action. I take the courier down into the basement of the taverna and find the electricity distribution box. There are many fuses and interrupters. I flip the switches. The tavern and the basement are plunged into darkness. There is unease upstairs. I hear the Man of Action strike his Zippo lighter. He says, “don’t worry it was probably a fuse. I will go and investigate.” He comes down in the basement and sees us. He turns the electricity back on. We all leave the taverna together. His jewel is 6, choosing between the old and the new.
Now it is nighttime and we go into a basement nightclub. It is dark and smoky. It has seen better days and is seedy. On the stage is a cabaret. We sit at a table and order some drinks. On the table next to us an older man is being entertained by a hostess who is pouring him drinks and flattering him. She is a tiny black woman with an amazing architectural hairdo. She is wearing a skimpy red dress which reveals her athletic shoulders. From the way she moves to the bar she is lithe and a dancer. She is sat very close to me. I suggest to her without words that she must come with us. She looks over. We get up and leave the club, she follows. She says that she must get some things. So, we follow her into a catacomb where she lives. We go into a gothic chamber and she fills a holdall with clothes. I say to her that she is “bat-shit crazy” because there are bats flying about. She yes, literally. Her jewel is 5 need for freedom and change. She is as Westerly stalker.
We are now above ground in daylight. We go to a suburb near the sea, where there are three storied wooden houses of a classical Boston marine style. The place is ultra-tidy and serene. I select one house and go up the stairs. I pull the bell rope and a man in navy-blue shorts and a white polo answers the door. His short hair is immaculately cut and the creases in his polo are razor sharp. One the back of his polo is the number 2. He says, “hi we have been expecting you. Do come in.” He ushers us into a bright well lit kitchen with a blue and white nautical theme.
“I’ll just call my brother, my twin, we always do everything as a pair!”
His brother comes down and joins us in the kitchen. They are identically dressed. They stand with their backs to a white porcelain sink and ask us in unison, what would we like for breakfast. Their jewel is 2. They are couriers to the female East. I note in the dream that a pair of twos is a double whammy omen. Two is the need for humility and understanding or a hint of destiny. Given the context I favour the latter.
The flow of the dream goes South-North-West-East which I understand to be the flow of power, which is in the act of manifesting, that is one the verge of coming into manifestation. It is on the cusp of the dream.
Dream ends.
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Berne – nagal’s Insignia Dream – 27-04-24
I slept until 5:22 AM. This dream came upon going back to sleep.
I find myself in a seminar room sat in a partial circle of chairs without tables. Someone is giving a spectroscopy seminar on the screen. It is about some work being done at a German university. When the seminar is over, I go over to Sam and comment that it was a very nice piece of work to which he concurs. I know I am in Berne, Switzerland.
There is a short pause and the seminar reconvenes. I am wearing a blue-grey jacket much like the one I used to have. To this I pin my nagal’s insignia. I take it out of my pocket and pin it to my right lapel.
It is getting late. I have nowhere to stay. But I am pretty sure than I can get a hotel room on my credit card. I leave the seminar room and walk off into the Berne night.
I wake up noting that it is very unusual to have a dream with the insignia in. And wonder if it means that I need to be more proximal to one of the planetary centres, namely Geneva. I note that I have also spent time in London, Tokyo and fleetingly New York. I decide to try to return to the dream. Geneva is the francophone centre.
I am now in some shared house with a “Rayburn” style of heater. The pipes are all transparent made of glass. We are changing the thermostat setting and this causes the water levels in the pipes to change. I comment that it is a good idea to have these pipes transparent because one can see what is going on.
I then move into an office building. I meet the secretary which Sam had. I think about asking her if she likes dreams. I change my mind and say to her that I have something to tell her and Sam in private, namely the dream.
I move into an office full of Ph.D. students. I ask them where the post doc office is. They point me. I go in and it is full of people a few of whom are known to me. I ask where I am supposed to sit. Alan F sheepishly points me to a chair/desk in the corner. I sit down.
I say that because of the number of post docs Sam must be doing well.
One of the women, a senior post doc, asks in an American accent, “what the fuck are you doing here?”
To which I reply that I am slightly surprised too.
She says that everyone gossiped and ridiculed me after I left last time. I reply that I know because Wolfgang told me and that he was not happy with the behaviours of people towards me because I had been nice to him.
Sat around the table each of us have a grey carton.
“Today we are having oysters, huitres”, says one of the post docs.
“Not for me thanks I don’t like them”, I reply.
“Why?”
“They feel like catarrh from a bad head cold, a viral infection.”
“Can we get you anything else?”
“Just a glass of water please.”
“Won’t you feel left out?”
“No. Since the last time I was here I have done extensive meditation and am quite Zen abut most things.”
In front of me is a lab book and a fountain pen.
The pen is their “gift” to me.
I go to take the lid off the pen and try to use it. It is booby trapped and I get ink all over my hand and my mouth. I dip a tissue in the water and wash my hands with it.
“It looks like I will need to use a pencil instead of a fountain pen to write.”
There is a titter in the office.
I turn to use a computer and reflected on the screen I can see them reloading the pen.
I tell them that I am seeing them do this and that I am not a fool. I walk over to the main culprit. I place my left thumb firmly into the nerve point between his right thumb and forefinger and squeeze his hand. He drops the pen and grimaces in pain.
I explain that I am now 100kg because I have been working a garden.
They joke that British gardens are small.
I say that I have been living in France with a garden of more than an acre.
I say, « je peux parler Français ».
I do this is a very poor accent.
I go back to my accommodation. I note that I still have not written my dream and that this mocking “welcome” is a generic thing.
The next morning, I put on my grey camouflage trousers and vest. I attach the insignia to a piece of smooth string and pop it around my neck. It rests just under the top on the singlet in my chest hair.
I go into town towards the office. The woman and two other postdocs are at a cross roads.
We exchange, “morning”.
They are about to mock me for dressing as a soldier. I lift the insignia out of my vest to show them, knowing that in so doing I am making a powerful occult statement which they do not understand.
I am aware that someone, or some people known to me are projecting a malevolent energy in my general direction. I know that this is of Taoist internal arts origin and that the projector(s) have some proficiency in this art. It is shamanic in origin and emotive of bent. They are angry with me and wish me ill. It is not clear if they are fully conscious of the sentiment of malevolence which they are projecting at me. It is nasty and not aligned with the true Tao it is a perversion. In the dream I know that I must not react to the sentiment. I must metaphorically sit in seiza and allow it to flow over and around me. I should not make any effort to reflect it back to sender just simply let it pass. I must not get drawn into their emotive game. I must be zen-like and calm. They are being immature and very petty.