Dreams 2012 – Deceit, Slander, Behind My Back and Attack

I have not long finished reading my 2012 journal and amongst the more mystical, some of which I may put up here, there are numerous examples of dreams in which I am being warned of the deceitful behaviour of people who I know well.

There are dreams in which people like my ex-wife spread slanderous rumours about me. Dreams in which I see people {including family} doing sneaky things which they know I don’t approve of behind my back. What is striking is the number of dreams in which people known to me attack me physically. In nearly all cases the blows have no impact on me, instead the attacker hurts his or herself by striking me. But there is another one in which I am carrying a stab wound caused by these negative and aggressive thought forms directed at me.

Things which people perhaps imagine hidden from me are revealed in some of these dreams.

It is pretty weird to read that kind of stuff on a bright June day, all that intrigue.

Moderna, Snakes and 2011 Dreams.

We went to the doctor today and we shall be having our first dose of the Moderna mRNA vaccine on Monday. She has advised us to take a paracetamol before vaccination. I also have a dermatologist appointment to check if the lesion on my left hand is a basal cell carcinoma or not. I have already have two removed from my face, the benefits of a Southern Hemisphere childhood. That hand was struck by ultraviolet laser beams over twenty years ago now. UV is known to mess with the DNA. I get to see the colon cancer specialist end of July for my 8th colonoscopy and will get the carcinoembryonic antigen test done before then. Six years since the removal of my tumour now. The doctor said that I should inform anyone genetically linked closely to me to get tested for colon cancer. No lecture about booze levels today, I may still be teacher’s pet for giving up smoking.

The R squared value for an exponential fit to UK covid data has risen to 0.86 today suggesting that it is getting pretty darned exponential.

Saw the grass snake yesterday it was in the pond. I was doing my usual circumambulation and startled it, which startled me. It swam into the centre of the pond and then turned and set its beady eyes on me. I stood eye to eye for a while. It is the Natrix Helvetica one. It swam to the side when I was far enough away and went to hide under the overhang. I went to get the wife to have a look. But when we got back there was no sign of it.

It is pretty weird reading all those dreams from 2011. If dreams can in anyway be seen as “evidence” many of them are pointing at me being a fully severed three pronged nagal. A friend asked me does that help you in getting liberated. I said nah, just means that I am even more detached than most. A running thread is that there are two threads, Toltec and Buddhist.

There are few more corkers in the remaining journals. Some I have completely forgotten about indeed one suggesting that I had a number of Egyptian lives. Next few books should take me up to 2014-15 where I started keeping digital records and archives.

I wonder are there any other significant dreams which I have missed.

Time for a glass to help with the pizza making…

Hmnn…

Recapitulating Through My Journals – Temptation

I have just gotten to where I “trashed” my 130,000-euro job and the dream that instigated that process.  One journal was almost entirely full of the meditation thought form building.  The next is full of dreams pertaining to the petty dramas of day-to-day life and hardly any meditation notes.

It is just possible somebody from the space agency contacted my old employers and “had a word about me”. It is a small world.

In the meditation journal it suggested that I am somehow on the line of Avalokiteśvara, there is some flavour of this in me.

In my journal I make the hypothesis that this job with its large salary, kudos and fancy lasers to play with was by way of a temptation for me to turn away from the spiritual and back toward the material. Given that we were in the act of downsizing house to save rent money, it was pretty well timed and well designed. The not accepting the job had a number of knock-on effects in the material world.

Way back somebody told me that my predilection was Dreaming Man of Action. But I started getting loads of 18s and the wife dreamed of me being severed and I did have one very unpleasant energetic experience. Whilst I was recovering from this, moving house in the snow, the shit started to hit the fan on the material plane.

So given that and the tricorn hat dream I started a new hypothesis that I am indeed a three-pronged philosophical nagal who is also a dreamer. I am pretty out there from time to time.

It is not entirely beyond the realms of possibility. I had been trying to live life in a way that someone else suggested.

These themes of temptation run continuously for much of my adult life and by and large I have resisted temptation fairly well, not always I might add, but usually the big ones.

Only eight A4 journals to go and I’ll be up to date.

Interestingly in 2008 I had a vision of living near a river and of the Breton countryside. Oh yeah and a blue, red and black Triskelion, which kind of links across to the three-pronged nagal hypothesis.

Unexpected Events

Some of the things we do have unforeseen consequences, little almost tiny happenstance can precipitate much more than we might ever anticipate. What we think is happening may be completely wrong.

Life has a funny way of throwing us curve balls.

For example, I completely misread a situation. Way back when I used to do personal development courses for Ph.D. students, things used to be fine whilst I was still an academic. After I packed in my job, I no longer had the same gravitas simply because I had renounced something to which many of them were aspiring. The whole basis of my credibility shifted. I was no longer a part of that system and therefore had no power. I was the same person but by change of association my effectiveness was reduced. I had never anticipated this, yet it happened. I was suddenly suspect.

I never imagined that one fine morning out walking I would be “told” that this is my last lifetime ever, here on Earth. What do you do with that kind of shit? Does it make you special? If it is true and you read up on that kind of stuff, there are implications. It means that I no longer have a causal vehicle, so I will not cause a subsequent incarnation. I don’t glow in the dark, there is no halo. I still eat and shit.

Way back when I was involved with a high technology start up my prime motivation was to perhaps raise sufficient money to open a retreat centre in which I would be the vegan chef. I doubt anybody thought this was my motivation, but it was. As it happened, I did organise a number of retreats around the same time. The night we pitched and raised a lot of cash, the others celebrated. I went and picked up a minibus in order to drive a whole bunch of people to deepest darkest Pembrokeshire the next day. So, I went from venture capital office to hippy retreat centre in less than 24 hours. We spoke suited and booted to representatives of Rothschild and Weinstock one day, the next day I was organising the meal rota, smoking roll ups in my tatty track suit bottoms.

Theun asked me did I think we raised the five million, I said probably, yes. His face was a picture, he had not seen that one coming.

I was convinced that my future lay with the Toltec teachings as a leader of a largely sixth ray group, they would not follow my lead, there was infighting and a power struggle, so I left. At the time I did not realize that I was an Elephant and not a Wolf. Then I started having flashbacks and visual overlays of my two Buddhist incarnations, feeling om mane padme hum tattooed in Sanskrit on your forearms is a bit odd, feeling a monk overlay walking on Brixton high street is weird. What does one do with that kind of shit? Well one largely keeps it a secret. Nobody prepared me for this kind of thing.

Unless there is yet another strange quirk of fate, some other unexpected event, I will probably eke out the rest of my life as a retired Welsh geezer on a small stipend, gardening and doing DIY. That is what it looks like this morning.

But you never really know, life has a funny way of throwing us curve balls.

I Remember Atlantis

I’ll wager that if I said this to most modern-day scientists, they would not believe me, they might think me delusional or that I am simply taking the piss.

Comparing the Encyclopaedia Britannica and Wiki, one {wiki} asserts that Atlantis is fictional the other couches its language and uses probably. I think the assertion is off one cannot know anything a priori and without some level of doubt.

If I went further and said that I remember the flying ships of Atlantis, many might begin to mock, though the description previous is a bit like a Harrier jump jet not yet invented at the turn of the nineteenth century.

It is OK for people to believe in God but not for people to believe in Atlantis. One can go to church and say that one is going to abide by the rules of the house and then behave hypocritically by stealing and shagging around. But to believe in Atlantis is a heinous act of idiocy especially for a trained Chemical Physicist.

Last time I looked there were thousands of people associated in some way with the Arcane school. They have at least a partial willingness to accept the notion of Atlantis and Lemuria, perhaps to believe without believing.

A lot of modern thought stems from Plato and yet the weird old Greek is talking about a “fictional” island. People don’t like the notion so have convinced themselves that it was a metaphor or an instructional device. None of them have ever met Plato so they could be transferring their opinion and way of thinking on to him. Nobody has asked his opinion and motive.

As I began today with my hypothesis.

The difficulty of accepting some thing is inversely proportional to the level of inconvenience it brings.

For many “learned” people it is next to impossible to accept the notion of Atlantis because no proof has yet been found. But get this, it is still socially acceptable to believe in God for whom there is no six sigma instrumentally measured proof either.

If as a part of my religion, my belief set, I believe in Atlantis, and you mock me what are you doing? Are you being WOKE? Are you being judgmental?

The deluge story is widespread. If you were a leader on Atlantis and it was starting to break up and sink, where would you lead your people to? Where would the risk of inundation be the smallest?

It would be somewhere land locked and high like Tibet and Bhutan. So maybe this is where all the ancient records got taken.

“Back in the old days on Atlantis when the rule of the initiate Kings was coming under threat from the dark and wayward brothers, the priesthood kept a look out amongst the education system for children, boys who showed early signs of psychic ability. The school would tell the priesthood of any candidates and an assessor emissary would be dispatched. If the boy passed the tests he was removed from the school and sent to the special training unit. If he excelled, he was trained at an accelerated pace to undertake psychic warfare with the wayward. He was trained in the art of blending in and camouflage. He was trained to psychically lasso wayward brothers and in particular wayward nagal beings. He was trained as an assassin. After capture of a wayward powerful being he would then lead them to the place where they would be locked up for a very long time. These “prisons” were built out of a material which prevented the psychic emanations of the wayward wreaking havoc. Many of these trainees were “lost” in the line of duty. On occasion these trainees would pass into a branch of the priesthood called the Sons of the Dragon.”

I remember Atlantis.

Jurassic Funk – Old School

Way back in the dark ages, before mobile ‘phones, I used to work as a barman in a nightclub in central London. I would finish shift at 3.30 AM take a night bus home and then be in college for 10 AM the next morning.

It was done with the help of some soul and some fate.

Once a month each nightclub, in turn, would run a session for staff only starting at 3.45 AM.

The boss of my club owned several others.

Only I, with my posh voice was allowed to serve him and his dodgy geezers {if they swung by} with the Dom Perignon locked up under my end of the bar.

This one takes me back to the Limelight club on one such night for the staff, dancing in my black and whites.

Dreams and the 130,00-euro Job

I have just been preparing the pot for dinner and I was taken back to events around a decade ago when I did something that most people would describe as lunacy, and which really pissed off my ex-wife because it took away her meal ticket.

When we were moving house in the bleak and very snowy winter, I got a message from Holland asking me to contact a space agency there. I had interviewed with them six months earlier and had mentally written the job application off. Basically, out of the blue, they were offering me the job which would have put an end to the financial hardship we were experiencing. The job had a very large and tax-free salary, there would be cheap petrol and diplomatic number plates to boot. It would pay school fees and a whole bunch of other perks. It seemed too good to be true.

They sent me a CD with all the rules and regulations, I had to read all 350 megabytes of it, and agree to these terms before they would accept me. The start date was few months hence.

I signed and we went to Holland to scope out housing and open a bank account. They had an arrivals person meet us and arrange for us to see various housing. We had our hearts set on one of the properties next to a canal. It was currently occupied by a very big cheese in the organisation.

In a lull in appointments at lunch we swung by and had a look from the outside. We noted at the time a number of police car sirens. Then I got a call to say that our appointment to see the place had been cancelled at short notice. The excuse did not sound plausible there was some other reason. It was the first of the alarm bells.

Back in blighty I read up on all the space missions and the spectroscopic technique I would be helping to develop.

And then I had a dream warning me in no uncertain terms not to take up the position. To cut a long story short I got myself out of the contract, which took a while and some unorthodox method. And this is the short tale of the dream and the 130,00-euro job. Who knows what would have happened if I had not listened to my dreamer?

Now why did that pop into my mind whilst peeling a mango?

Who can say?

Patents, Swallows and Yet Another Snake

A slightly odd day so far. We are not long back from the seaside where we saw some German number plates. The beach we went to is only a few kilometres from the high technology industrial park. Not sure if the Germans are here to work or to holiday.

Last night the wife had a dream in which she was talking to people about patents and financial forecasting, which are not subjects that she knows much about. Sometimes the wife’s dreaming is of a prescient nature, she can sense things incoming ahead of time. This kind of dream is very different to her normal fayre. Thus, it kind of stands out, it follows on from my “dodgy deals” dreams, perhaps.

It is now pretty obvious that we are going to have to surrender our passageway from the back door to the garages over to the swallows. They have started building a nest in the rafters. So, I guess for the next month or so we will be walking the long way round to the cars. If I sit in the veranda, I can see the nest building site. I may be able to get a direct line of sight with the telephoto.

I have just walked around the pond in my crocs, this means I am very quiet when walking. I often startle the wildlife. And guess what? I saw the large grass snake again. I think it must live at that end of the garden because that is where I / we have seen it before. It slithered off towards the water only a few feet from my toes.

That is a whole lot of snake sighting in one week.

And There Be Ducklings!

Earlier this year the breeding pair had their nest on our pond predated. They lost four eggs. After this we did not see Madame La Cane for a while. We did see Monsieur Le Canard and from time to time three adolescent males.

A bit later on we saw Monsieur et Madame swimming upstream on Le Jaudy during one of our walks.

Soon enough I began to see the lady-duck swimming in “the swamp”. Of all the ducks she has been the most chilled around us. Boy duck usually flies off.

The swamp is just the other side of our boundary fence and there is a path around the pond which passes between the pond and the swamp. The swamp is much more covered with trees and is more overgrown.

This morning whilst I was circumambulating I glanced over into the swamp because I could see something moving on the surface.

Most excellent news!

There was Madame La Cane with at least three ducklings swimming behind her.

Fingers crossed she will bring her brood for a swim on our pond at some time in the future.

What a nice start to the day…

Zen (?) Gates

As a change from heavy duty strimmer frenzy, I have been trying to fix our electric gate motor. It is 2004 vintage, and I am in email contact with South Africa from whence the motor originated.

The whole factory set up procedure works.

The spare parts if bought in France are ten times the price of the same part bought in South Africa, according to the internet.

Nothing quite like an electrical fault, which is of an intermittent nature to test one’s Zen.

It sounds like a relay has fried. It gets the RF signal {according to the LED} to open but just clicks.

So maybe I’ll have some more things to do waiting for me in my inbox tomorrow.

Hey-ho