Ghurkha – Caduceus Dream 13-03-2011

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.

1000 Posts

WordPress has told me today that I have made 1000 posts on this blog. That is a lot of stuff.

This is where the blog gets to {all time reads}:

Chinese search engine bots visit from time to time. I have not done any SEO.

So I am not registerd on bing, google, duck duck and go or yahoo as an actual verified site.

Top 3 are France, USA and India…

The Thirty-Seven Practices of All the Bodhisattvas

by Gyalse Tokme Zangpo

I have selected various verses also from Lotsawa House

———————

The practice of all the bodhisattvas is to leave behind one’s homeland,

Where our attachment to family and friends overwhelms us like a torrent,

While our aversion towards enemies rages inside us like a blazing fire,

And delusion’s darkness obscures what must be adopted and abandoned.

 

The practice of all the bodhisattvas is to take to solitary places,

Avoiding the unwholesome, so that destructive emotions gradually fade away,

And, in the absence of distraction, virtuous practice naturally gains strength;

Whilst, with awareness clearly focused, we gain conviction in the teachings.

 

The practice of all the bodhisattvas is to renounce this life’s concerns,

For friends and relatives, long acquainted, must all go their separate ways;

Wealth and prized possessions, painstakingly acquired, must all be left behind;

And consciousness, the guest who lodges in the body, must in time depart.

 

The practice of all the bodhisattvas is to arouse bodhicitta,

So as to bring freedom to all sentient beings, infinite in number.

For how can true happiness ever be found while our mothers,

Who have cared for us throughout the ages, endure such pain?

 

The practice of all the bodhisattvas is to make a genuine exchange

Of one’s own happiness and wellbeing for all the sufferings of others.

Since all misery comes from seeking happiness for oneself alone,

Whilst perfect buddhahood is born from the wish for others’ good.

 

The practice of all the bodhisattvas is to subdue the mind,

With the forces of loving kindness and compassion.

For unless the real adversary—my own anger—is defeated,

Outer enemies, though I may conquer them, will continue to appear.

 

The practice of all the bodhisattvas is to let go of grasping

When encountering things one finds pleasant or attractive,

Considering them to be like rainbows in the summer skies—

Beautiful in appearance, yet in truth devoid of any substance.

 

The practice of all the bodhisattvas is to cultivate patience,

Free from any trace of animosity towards anyone at all,

Since any potential source of harm is like a priceless treasure

To the bodhisattva who is eager to enjoy a wealth of virtue.

 

The practice of all the bodhisattvas is to let go of attachment

To the households of benefactors and of family and friends,

Since one’s study, reflection and meditation will all diminish

When one quarrels and competes for honours and rewards.

 

In short, no matter what one might be doing,

By examining always the status of one’s mind,

With continuous mindfulness and alertness,

To bring about the good of others—this is the practice of all the bodhisattvas.

 

The practice of all the bodhisattvas is to dedicate towards enlightenment

All the virtue to be gained through making effort in these ways,

With wisdom that is purified entirely of the three conceptual spheres,

So as to dispel the sufferings of the infinity of beings.

Slightly Spooked

Feeling ever so slightly spooked.

The video immediately pointed me to my double vajra with triskelion dream.

About fifteen years back and after I had various dreams suggesting that I had been a Buddhist priest/monk in previous incarnations, I began investigating Buddhism more. The idea being to find out what flavour.

Because of the dragons on the flags, I developed a little joke. Whilst I was looking around for where to incarnate, I saw the Welsh flag and went there by mistake. I was aiming for Bhutan but ended up in Cardiff.

I looked into traveling to The Land of The Thunder Dragon partially because Tibet was closed, but mainly because of the groovy name. It struck a chord.

I had a number of good on-line conversations with local Bhutanese tour guides, but bottled at the expense in the end.

I have mild excitement, maybe the programmes this evening will give me another piece of the puzzle.

Maybe not…

More Than 10km.

For the first time in over a month both the car and we went more than 10km. It was lovely and sunny, so we went up to the coast. On a bright May Saturday afternoon, we felt the wind blow salt onto our faces and looked at the crystal-clear sea, under an azure blue sky. Port Blanc was empty, and the unused catamarans for hire lay chained to the harbour side. The wind whistled aeolian through their rigging.

Now that the travel restrictions have been relaxed about one in three of the car number plates, up at the coast, were from “out-of-towners” people not from Côtes D’Armor. Some had travelled far. Sea air is good in times of plague. About one in three of the properties still had their shutters down. All those lovely homes unused, those stunning views unwatched, the sunsets unappreciated.

And those shenanigans the other side of the channel, they carry on. I can see their faces now; they are intruding. All those cunning plans. It is sad.

Looks like the karmic boomerang is in flight.

All those other worlds, where people want me to enact their will, their wishes, to do their bidding.

It is so strange to pick up, if only in my imagination, all those machinations.

Oh well, Chicken Jalfrezi is next on my dance card…

Time to go and rattle some pans…

Danger from the Dark Brothers – Psychic Attack?

August 4, 1920

I think I gave you earlier practically all that I can as yet impart anent the Brothers of Darkness, as they are sometimes termed. I only want at this point to lay emphasis upon the fact that no danger need be feared by the average student from this source. It is only as discipleship is approached and a man stands out ahead of his fellows as an instrument of the White Brotherhood that he attracts the attention of those who seek to withstand. When through application to meditation, and power and activity in service, a man has developed his vehicles to a point of real achievement, then his vibrations set in motion matter of a specific kind, and he learns to work with that matter, to manipulate the fluids, and to control the builders. In so doing he encroaches on the domain of those who work with the forces of involution and thus he may bring attack upon himself. This attack may be directed against any of his three vehicles and may be of different kinds. Let me briefly point out some of the methods employed against a disciple which are the ones which alone concern the student of these letters:

  1. Definite attack on the physical body. All kinds of means are employed to hinder the usefulness of the disciple through disease or the crippling of his physical body. Not all accidents are the result of karma, for the disciple has usually surmounted a good deal of that type of karma and is thus comparatively free from that source of hindrance in active work.
  2. Glamor is another method used, or the casting over the disciple of a cloud of emotional or mental matter which suffices to hide the real, and to temporarily obscure that which is true. The study of the cases wherein glamor has been employed is exceedingly revealing and demonstrates how hard it is for even an advanced disciple always to discriminate between the real and the false, the true and the untrue. Glamor may be either on the emotional or mental levels but is usually on the former. One form employed is to cast over the disciple the shadows of the thought of weakness or discouragement or criticism to which he may at intervals give way. Thus cast, they loom in undue proportion and the unwary disciple, not realizing that he is but seeing the gigantic outlines of his own momentary and passing thoughts, gives way to discouragement, aye even to despair, and becomes of little use to the Great Ones. Another form is to throw into his mental aura suggestions and ideas purporting to come from his own Master but which are but subtle suggestions that hinder and help not. It takes a wise disciple always to discriminate between the voice of his real Teacher and the false whispers of the masquerading one, and even high initiates have been temporarily misled.
    Many and subtle are the means used to deceive and thereby curtail the effective output of the worker in the field of the world. Wisely therefore have all aspirants been enjoined to study and work at the development of viveka or that discrimination which safeguards from deception. If this quality is laboriously built in and cultivated in all events, big and little, in the daily life, the risks of being led astray will be nullified.
  3. A third method frequently employed is to envelop the disciple in a thick cloud of darkness, to surround him with an impenetrable night and fog through which he stumbles and often falls. It may take the form of a black cloud of emotional matter, of some dark emotion that seems to imperil all stable vibration and plunges the bewildered student into a blackness of despair; be feels that all is departing from him; he is a prey to varied and dismal emotions; he deems himself forsaken of all; he considers that all past effort has been futile and that naught remains but to die. At such times he needs much the gift of viveka, and to earnestly weigh up and calmly reason out the matter. He should at these times remind himself that the darkness hides naught from the God within, and that the stable center of consciousness remains there, untouched by aught that may betide. He should persevere until the end, – the end of what? The end of the enveloping cloud, the point where it merges itself into sunlight; he should pass through its length and out into the daylight, realizing that nothing can at any time reach to and hurt the inner consciousness. God is within, no matter what transpires without. We are so apt to look out at environing circumstances, whether physical, astral or mental, and to forget that the inmost center of the heart hides our points of contact with the Universal Logos.
  4. Finally (for I cannot touch on all the methods used), the means employed may be to cast a mental darkness over the disciple. The darkness may be intellectual, and is consequently still more difficult to penetrate, for in this case the power of the Ego must be called in, whereas in the former frequently the calm reasoning of the lower mind may suffice to dispel the trouble. Here, in this specific case, the disciple will be wise if he not only attempts to call his Ego or Higher Self for the dispelling of the cloud, but calls likewise upon his Teacher, or even upon his Master, for the assistance that they can give. {This is speaking about the Soul}

These are but a few of the dangers encircling the aspirant, and I hint at them solely for the purpose of warning and guidance, and not to cause alarm. You can here interpolate the earlier letter with the rules that I there give for the assistance of the disciple.

———————–

Excerpted from:

Letters on Occult Meditation – Letter V – Dangers to be avoided in Meditation.

Alice Bailey & Djwhal Khul

Using Amazon When Drunk….

“Darling have you been using Amazon when drunk again?”

“No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“There appears to be a very large boulder in the back yard.”

“Now that you come to mention it I have a vague recollection of looking through the ornamental rocks section…..”

Remembering Mount Isa

Prompted by this article in the Guardian and the sense of how “biblical” things are getting I have been revisiting one of the places of my childhood, Mount Isa.

“It’s not too late for Australia to forestall a dystopian future that alternates between Mad Max and Waterworld.”

It was / is a pretty extreme place to live, and this satellite image shows the pervading red, not much green outside the city. I remember it being baking hot and playing under the house, the houses were on stilts to guard against flooding.

“Watch out for the red-back spiders!”

When the floods came they snakes etc. would invade the houses and many of them were deadly.

I found these images.

I am not completely convinced of my chronology but we there when cyclone Tracy devastated Darwin back in the 1970s.

I remember TV images of water after water and people stuck on the roofs of houses, waiting for rescue.

I remember the rain bouncing over a foot off the ground and it being too painful to play in.

Some quotes I found giver a flavour always there was one eye on the water level in the reservoir:

“In early 1971 Mount Isa showed up the truth of Dorothy McKellar’s land of droughts and flooding rains.

Graziers and townsfolk were panicking when Lake Moondarra’s capacity went down to barely 20% amid predictions it would be dry by July. On January 23, council warned residents to expect year-long water restrictions.

Then in early February the heavens opened and in next to no time the city was flooded and cut off. A second more ferocious flooding in March trapped many holidaymakers along the highway, though it was a while before local water restrictions were lifted.”

“1973 was Mount Isas golden jubilee year and it kicked off with a mention in the Guinness Book of Records which named the Isa as the world’s largest city by area, holding 15,822 square miles. Mount Isas 180km road to Camooweal was also hailed as the longest main road in the world.”

“August 1973 was designated as let’s get crazy month by the council. The Rodeo would be the centrepiece of a cavalcade of jubilee events including steam train rides, art exhibitions and a musical pageant. Over 40,000 packed out the jubilee rodeo as 21-year-old Terry Drennan rode the ride of his life to win the saddle for the Open Buck Jumping competition. Cricketing legends Greg Chappell and Rod Marsh dropped by to join the party in October, the same month as the city’s fifth hotel, the Overlander opened.

New Year celebrations in 1974 were barely over when tragedy again struck in an air accident. Ian Smith, 29, of Mount Isa tried to land his single-engined aircraft at Barkly Downs stations in heavy rainfall when it crashed killing all four aboard. Smith and three teachers were travelling to a friend’s wedding. Initially there was confusion as family of the Cloughs who owned the stations thought the missing station owners were the victims. But the Cloughs had just spent the night at the house of friends on their way back from a family holiday.

Mount Isa was trapped by floodwaters which devastated much of Queensland, including Brisbane that summer. The city survived with three food drops a week.”

I remember the rodeo. I helped carry ice for the bars and saw grown men utterly pissed sleeping out overnight and starting over the next day with a tinny for breakfast.

I was scorched by this place. Few of my UK based acquaintances would understand what it means to live in a place like this. And many of the itinerant Australian bar men I worked with in London used to shudder at the idea of living way out back.

And when we finally came back to Heathrow, I could not believe that anywhere could be so green. Apparently, I would not shut up about it all the way to Wales.

Yep, things are getting biblical, fire and brimstone, and flooding.

De Fret-Boers Dream

I had this dream and not long after it I got a call to tutor a young man who had not been well and lived in a rather splendid mansion/ house.

—————————

I am, as a teenager, at the side of a hospital bed. I am dressed in a school uniform of a dark suit. In the bed in front of me there is a young man with dark hair. He is slim and tall.  He is on a drip and is unconscious. I briefly turn my back. He falls off his bed and onto the floor. I bend over to pick him up and he wakes up in my arms. He does not know who or what he is. He asks me who I am. I say that I am Alan and a friend from school. He faints and together with a nurse we place him back into bed. He is no longer in a coma, he is simply in a faint. I leave him for a while.

When I return a very well dressed upper class woman is sat with him, it is his mother whom he does not recognise. She says that he has been asking for me each time he surfaces. It has been decided that he should go home to recuperate and he has been adamant that I should stay with them  for the rest of the school holidays.

Before we go to the country I visit him again at his bedside. For some reason I am speaking with him in a Welsh accent. He says;

“Does that mean I am Welsh too?”

“No, I have just been with some of my Welsh relatives. As far as I know you are sort of English, though I do not believe that your family is entirely, English.”

“Phew!”, he says.

We are now in a massive country estate, to which he is heir. Everyone is concerned about his health. There is much behind the scenes chatter amongst the family and staff.

Time passes.

His father comes to sit with him. He shows “Tom” a picture of Sir (something) de Fret – Boers. Tom looks at the picture and says that is you, pointing at his father.

“I am your dad and this is our house. One day it will be yours. “

Tom faints again. I move over and hold him until he re-surfaces. He is calmer now. The family members repeat this technique for various of them.

There is now a small picnic / garden party. It is all very Brideshead Revisited. Although I am welcome it is clear that the family think I am of the wrong social status for them. Whilst they are all chatting I wander off over a fence into a meadow field.  I am just within earshot. I can hear their chatter. I wander further into the field towards a gate which is at the other end. As I get nearer I can see within the long grass a number of large birds of prey standing. They look like a cross between an owl and a large eagle. There are half a dozen of so of these large birds. I have to walk through them to get to the gate. They observe me silently and in a welcoming manner. I pass through their midst and not one of them moves. I climb over the gate and carry on back to the garden party.

Later I find Tom in his games room. It is equipped with all the latest toys and arcade games. It is in the basement of the big house. Several children and teenagers are playing there. It is his den.

Now several years later and I have been away. Tom’s father has now died. This is to be Tom’s first big event. Everyone is arranged around a Greek style whitewashed courtyard. There is a stage upon which a small orchestra is playing. Tom’s family are all gathered on one of the house’s balcony. It is a large open balcony. I can see Tom and his mother. Tom is dressed in a black suit / dinner jacket. I am dressed in a colonial style, lightly coloured and lightweight suit. I wave at Tom. In my jacket I have the speech which he has asked me to write.

There are steps down from the balcony to the courtyard. Chairs are arranged theatre style so that everyone can look at the stage. People are all very smartly dressed as if they are going to the opera. After the orchestra has finished their will be speeches.

Tom wanders off to exit the balcony and go into the house. The time is nearing for him to give his speech.

I go to follow him but his mother points to another way into the house. Instead of doing this I climb down a drain pipe into the courtyard. As I get there I bang into an overweight balding man. A light green pamphlet falls out of his jacket and onto the floor. I recognise this. I get a similar one out of my jacket it was next to my speech. We compare these. They are publicity flyers for the de Fret – Boers estate. They have a coat of arms and yellow writing on the green background.  We comment on the name de Fret Boers. He says it could simply be De Beers dressed up.

Anyway I continue on to find Tom. I know where he will be. He is in the games room hiding. He says;

“I knew you would come for me. I am scared. Can you go on first , to set the scene?”

“Yes, Of course..”

We embrace fraternally.

The dream ends.