Italianate Bridge – Cave – Dream 10-01-22

Here is the third of the dreams.

I am in an Italianate city very much like Firenze in style but much smaller in size. I am approaching a bridge over the river which has terracotta tiles on the roofing. I start to cross the bridge but pause to look at the water in the river. It is crystal clear and has a bluish tinge. It reminds me of the Aare in Bern. I am sorely tempted by the water and jump off the bridge into the water, upstream. It is not too deep nor too fast and surprisingly for a mountain reiver the water is slightly warm. I swim with ease to the other bank and when I get out all my clothes are dry. I see a path heading up a hill and away from the town. I take the path.

The path goes uphill and then appears to disappear. It does not really there is just a false summit, and the path leads between two earthen banks and into the entrance of a large cave. I go a little way in and surprisingly I can see well in the relative darkness. I note the cave.

Next, I am back in the town and approaching the bridge with the wife.  We both jump into the water, and I have a small miniature submarine like device that pulls us along under the water. We surface several hundred metres downstream of the bridge. We start walking back up the stream, in the stream, towards the bridge. An Italian man on the bank asks how come we don’t find the water cold. I reply that it is not cold he should try it. He thinks I am joking,

He follows us along the bank until we get to the path a little upstream of the bridge.

The wife and I walk up the hill towards the cave. I know in the dream that I am supposed to show her the cave and bring her here, possibly a number of times.

Dream ends.

Nevada Students – Catching Eggs Dream 10-01-22

This is the second of last night’s dreams.

I arrive at a faculty building. I have been escorted there by a faculty liaison officer. She ushers me into a room in which there are around half a dozen graduate students. They are dressed in alternative / indie clothes and a few of them have died hair and piercings. I assume that they are arts students.

The faculty liaison officer tells them to show me around and generally be helpful. They introduce themselves as do I, on a first names basis. They are very friendly with only mild US accents. I ask them what they do and it tuns out that they are all scientists and use lasers in one way or another. They are from various departments. I decide not to ask them if they know Prof. A..

They show me around campus and towards the biotechnology building in which two of them work.

Before we get there, we sit down on some park benches on the grass. Two of the students sit to my left on one bench. There are a few benches around what appears to be a tree, at first sight. The students hold out their hands, palms up. I look to my right and then back to my left because I hear a sound. One of the students has a broken hen’s egg in his left hand. The tree is now a tree from which multiple brown hen’s eggs are suspended. From time to time an egg falls either on the ground or towards a hand. The trick is to catch an egg in the hand without it breaking. From the broken eggs on the floor, I can see many have failed. The students are enthralled by this activity and no longer notice I am there. In the dream I know that I would have no problem catching an egg without breaking it.

The number of people passing us increases. It is the end of the day, and they are heading to the car park which is behind us. I conclude that the main part of campus is where they are coming from. I get up and head off in that direction to explore. I make a mental bet with myself that I can find the centre I am looking for without looking at any signs.

Dream ends.

Gateway to the Nagual’s World – South the place of Dreaming

In my case, don Juan wanted an omen before he taught me the ritual. That omen came when don Juan and I were driving through a border town in Arizona and a policeman stopped me. The policeman thought I was an illegal alien. Only after I had shown him my passport, which he suspected of being a forgery, and other documents, did he let me go. Don Juan had been in the front seat next to me all the time, and the policeman had not given him a second glance. He had focused solely on me. Don Juan thought the incident was the omen he was waiting for.

His interpretation of it was that it would be very dangerous for me to call attention to myself, and he concluded that my world had to be one of utter simplicity and candor – elaborate ritual and pomp were out of character for me. He conceded, however, that a minimal observance of ritualistic patterns was in order when I made my acquaintance with his warriors. I had to begin by approaching them from the south, because that is the direction that power follows in its ceaseless flux. Life force flows to us from the south, and leaves us flowing toward the north. He said that the only opening to a Nagual’s world was through the south, and that the gate was made by two female warriors, who would have to greet me and would let me go through if they so decided.

He took me to a town in central Mexico, to a house in the countryside. As we approached it on foot from a southerly direction, I saw two massive Indian women standing four feet apart, facing each other. They were about thirty or forty feet away from the main door of the house, in an area where the dirt was hard-packed. The two women were extraordinarily muscular and stern. Both had long, jet-black hair held together in a single thick braid. They looked like sisters. They were about the same height and weight – I figured that they must have been around five feet four, and weighed 150 pounds. One of them was extremely dark, almost black, the other much lighter. They were dressed like typical Indian women from central Mexico – long, full dresses and shawls, homemade sandals.

Don Juan made me stop three feet from them. He turned to the woman on our left and made me face her. He said that her name was Cecilia and that she was a dreamer. He then turned abruptly, without giving me time to say anything, and made me face the darker woman, to our right. He said that her name was Delia and that she was a stalker. The women nodded at me. They did not smile or move to shake hands with me, or make any gesture of welcome. Don Juan walked between them as if they were two columns marking a gate. He took a couple of steps and turned as if waiting for the women to invite me to go through. The women stared at me calmly for a moment. Then Cecilia asked me to come in, as if I were at the threshold of an actual door.

Don Juan led the way to the house. At the front door we found a man. He was very slender. At first sight he looked extremely young, but on closer examination he appeared to be in his late fifties. He gave me the impression of being an old child: small, wiry, with penetrating dark eyes. He was like an elfish apparition, a shadow. Don Juan introduced him to me as Emilito, and said that he was his courier and all-around helper, who would welcome me on his behalf.

It seemed to me that Emilito was indeed the most appropriate being to welcome anyone. His smile was radiant; his small teeth were perfectly even. He shook hands with me, or rather he crossed his forearms and clasped both my hands. He seemed to be exuding enjoyment; anyone would have sworn that he was ecstatic in meeting me. His voice was very soft and his eyes sparkled.

We walked into a large room. There was another woman there. Don Juan said that her name was Teresa and that she was Cecilia’s and Delia’s courier. She was perhaps in her early thirties, and she definitely looked like Cecilia’s daughter. She was very quiet but very friendly. We followed don Juan to the back of the house, where there was a roofed porch.

It was a warm day. We sat there around a table, and after a frugal dinner we talked until after midnight. Emilito was the host. He charmed and delighted everyone with his exotic stories. The women opened up. They were a great audience for him. To hear the women’s laughter was an exquisite pleasure. They were tremendously muscular, bold, and physical. At one point, when Emilito said that Cecilia and Delia were like two mothers to him, and Teresa like a daughter, they picked him up and tossed him in the air like a child.

Of the two women, Delia seemed the more rational, down- to-earth. Cecilia was perhaps more aloof, but appeared to have greater inner strength. She gave me the impression of being more intolerant, or more impatient; she seemed to get annoyed with some of Emilito’s stories. Nonetheless, she was definitely on the edge of her chair when he would tell what he called his “tales of eternity.” He would preface every story with the phrase, ‘Do you, dear friends, know that. . . ?’

The story that impressed me most was about some creatures that he said existed in the universe, who were the closest thing to human beings without being human; creatures who were obsessed with movement and capable of detecting the slightest fluctuation inside themselves or around them. These creatures were so sensitive to motion that it was a curse to them. It gave them such pain that their ultimate ambition was to find quietude. Emilito would intersperse his tales of eternity with the most outrageous dirty jokes. Because of his incredible gifts as a raconteur, I understood every one of his stories as a metaphor, a parable, with which he was teaching us something.

 Don Juan said that Emilito was merely reporting about things he had witnessed in his journeys through eternity. The role of a courier was to travel ahead of the Nagual, like a scout in a military operation. Emilito went to the limits of the second attention, and whatever he witnessed he passed on to the others.

From “The Eagle’s Gift” by Carlos Castaneda, Part Three.

Dalai Lama-Karmapa-Gandalf Dream 16-12-21

On top of everything else I have just had this whopper of a dream.

I am sat in a fairly sparse room somewhere in Northern India. It is one of the outbuildings to the complex of the Dalai Lama’s residence. I know this dream to be deep into Vajrayana and so I am already anticipating that things will get a little strange.  I go to the door of the building and a small red model car pulls up. It is like an open top version of a modern VW beetle. The car is just big enough for one and the exterior is a very vibrant deep red. The inside is a very dark black. I know the car to be remote controlled. I am being summoned.

I get in the car, and it sets off. It drives me around the building and then up a very steep and very prolonged staircase which it glides up. It then makes a sharp turn and heads into a building. It takes me into a room in which seated in meditation is the Dalai Lama. I get out of the car, and it vanishes.

The Dalai Lama then says, “we have been wondering what to do with you. Please take a stroll with me.” I accompany him outside and there is a tower like structure in front of us. Near the top there are a pair of white feathered wings. He says, “they are yours; you know. Go get them.”

Instead of climbing up the tower I simply will them down into my hands. I hold them and I integrate them after which they disappear visually, but I know I have embodied them.

The Dalai Lama then berates me a little for being too cooperative and nice. He says that I am too apologetic.

He says that a man must have personality and presence in order to succeed.

In the distance inside his enclosure there are a number of wolves and a male from that enclosure is looking directly at me from a distance. We lock eye to eye.

I then say, “the Dalai Lama is sixth ray?”

“Yes, ask me and you shall be told…”

I think to my self that this is unexpected, a six ray Dalai Lama. Then on reflection why not. Why else would he keep coming back?

We re-enter a building and there are now a number of monks around. One of them is spilling milk on the floor. He is making quite a mess.

We enter the Dalai Lama’s room, and he tells me to clean up the mess. He hands me a small rug. I go to the room and instead of doing it myself I tell one of the others to clean up which he does.

The monks come in and start to kick me.

I sit down, cross legged, now dressed as a Tibetan monk. I put my hands into the thumb touching mudra and start to meditate. The monks and their blows disappear.

I then find myself dressed normally in a room full of monks. They are all sat around a throne upon which sits the Dalai Lama. I am sat next to a young boy dressed in robes and with a shaven head.

He says, “do you know who I am?”

“Yes, you are the Karmapa.”

“Do you know who I am?

“Yes, you are the one we call Gandalf. Will you help me?”

“Yes, in any way I can”

We both adopt the hand position of offering and touch our foreheads together.

I awake and think that after a dream drought and with everything else going on that was a veritable whopper.

Red is the need to fight

Car is state of Awareness

Staircase going up – the need to recognise and eradicate separtiveness ; or the need to reconcile apparently oposing concepts

White is peace or need for peace.

Isabella – Manipulation – Attack Dreams 31-11-21

Here are last nights dreams they are separated by an interlude of being awake.

The first dream is set in London, somewhere close to the centre. In the room next door to me there is a panel of science academics sat around the table. They are going over applicants for a job as a University Physics lecturer. There are more than seven of the academics. The room in which they are seated is grand as is the table and chairs. They are a mix of men and women the men are wearing suits and the women are smartly dressed. It is all very English. They are all my age or older.

They call me in from the next room and say that they want to offer me the job. This surprises me somewhat because I have not applied for it. They say that the salary is £30,000. That sounds very low to me for a university in London. In the dream I note that 30 is the dreaming symbol for manipulation. They say the reason that the salary is small is that the job comes with an apartment as part of the salary. Where is the apartment? It is in central London near Down street which I know to be near Downing Street. I ask is there any previous coursework. They hand me a folder of lecture notes which I skim through, and it does not look too tricky. I think that I can do this job.

They say that they will get the previous incumbent to show me the flat in central London. I am introduced to Isabella who is a talk dark haired Mediterranean women about twenty years younger than me. Her hair is long, and she has a flowing black skirt and dangly silver earrings. She leads me off to Down street. When we get there the normal passenger lift is broken so we have to go around the back to use the big goods lift.  We get in and she hands me a large old-style key of steel. Which I put in my left trousers pocket. She says that she lost the job because they did not like her blog content. I say that she should perhaps read my blog.

She and I stand facing one door. I turn and look into her eyes. They morph into swirling spiral flames for a second. She is unsure if I have noted this. Several other people mostly young men get into the lift. One of the men, a muscular eastern European, puts his hand on my shoulder. I brush this off. The lift doors close and we start to move upwards. Halfway to the flat the Eastern European man stops the lift and opens the double doors. He then proceeds to jump out of the lift onto the car park several floors below. After him three waves of young men also jump out of the lift. Some land safely, others pick up minor injuries and a couple die. Isabella and I look down at the carnage, close the door and proceed to the flat.

I know it is late and that my flatmates in North London won’t be able to get in because I have the key to that flat as well. I take the key out and open the door. I step into an ornate hallway. The man from the lift is there and he says that I owe him money to get out of the contract. He reckons that I owe him £100. I say that I do not. He says that he will not let me go until I pay him or join him. He pulls out a knife and asks if I have ever played stabby stabby. No. He then tries to attack me and stab me with the knife which he is holding in his right hand. He is a lot younger and fitter than me. I catch the top of his hand and apply kote gaesh. Which sends him swirling through the air and leaves me with the knife in my right hand. I go over to the window and through the knife out.

He continues to attack me bare handed. I wrestle him to the floor despite the fact that he is fitter and stronger than me. Using my favourite Judo choke hold I choke him out and he becomes unconscious.

I awake briefly, exchange a few words with the wife and fall back to sleep.

The wife and I are staying at a cliff side villa near an azure blue sea. At the end of the garden is a path out to a ledge in the cliff side. It is just wide enough to sunbathe on parallel to the cliff. The wife and I venture out onto this cliff. I sit down and she lies down. I have a small fishing rod and cast out a bait into the azure blue sea some 20-30 metre below. I can see that some fish are interested in my bait. Some have a nibble; another fish pops its head out of the water and looks me directly in the eye. Soon the bait is gone. I go back into the villa and the wife moves to where I was seated. In the refrigerator I find some snacks which are yet to be cooked. They comprise some beef mince and some cheese in a sort of meat ball. I bait my hook and leave the baited hook and fishing line on the grass in the garden. I go back inside for a glass of milk. When I come out some wasps or bees are on the bait and are dragging the fishing rod around the garden. I call the wife to see this phenomenon. She comes off the cliff edge and watches too. She is alarmed by this.

We move away from the wasps, and she finds a part of a dream catcher on the floor. She picks this up and reunites it with the other part which is hanging from a eucalyptus tree. We explore the garden and find a small statuette of a witch with “traditional” pointy hat. It is about one foot tall. I pick it up and suddenly it morphs into a full-sized woman dressed entirely in black with a full black flowing skirt. I know this witch to be Isabella. She is trying to embrace me so that she can do some evil to me. She follows me around the garden, appearing to fly. She has a series of hat pins in her hat. I snatch one of these hat pins and as she flies at me one more time, I make it grow in size. I then impale her directly through her heart so that she is fixed by the pin to a tree in the garden. I know that she is done for and resolve to do some protection “work” on waking,

Dream ends.

* Yesterday the plumber alerted us to some Asiatic Wasps close to the house.

18 Flames – 17 Flames – Mossad Dream 31-10-21

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.

Dreaming on the Telly

We had a bit of a nice surprise this morning. On Sky news Kay Burley said before an advertisement break that after it she would be speaking to someone who uses lucid dreaming to aid veterans with post traumatic stress disorder. The wife said, “that could be Charlie” and sure enough it was.

So, he was beamed into our living room for a few minutes courtesy of Sky.

He is the person I mentioned earlier in the blog who came to my course on The Art of Dreaming at The Academy of Dreams way back, and who introduced me to Kagyu Tibetan Buddhism. When I heard that he was doing this lucid dreaming – PTSD thing I thought it sounded like an excellent thing to try. He has visited us on the physical plane at our houses back in the UK a couple of times, no satellite dish required.

A brief search today and a book on interpreting dreams is on the front page of The Sun newspaper.

On an off the wife and I have discussed writing a book on the subject.

But there is a bit of a problem. That is if people are getting genuine guidance dreams and then fail to act on them, things can go pear-shaped quite quickly. Not all dreams have a tall and attractive stranger whisking you off on a white stallion so that you can be soul mates across multiple incarnations. There may be quite a lot of wishful thinking. 

It takes quite a while to tune into the dreams of another and intuit them with much accuracy.

I am wondering if the appearance of Charlie is a marker for something incoming. A while back I offered to speak at a workshop locally, but that was cancelled due to Covid. That was with a man who is connected to Charlie.

We shall see what if anything transpires…

Zürich Theosophy Dream 13-9-21

Here is this morning’s dream. When I got up, I typed Zürich Theosophy into Google and found that someone has done a Ph.D. thesis on the Theosophical movement and one of her examiners was at ETH Zürich. I shall have a quick scan of it later.

I am in a room with several people my age and older. I know them to be theosophists. I am saying to them that the age range is high and that on average they are older than me. What are they doing to try to attract a younger audience? They show me an App. on a computer. I try to get it to open but fail. They say that I need a code. They give me four groups of two numbers 53, 29 and I forgot the other two. This opens an application in which one can read various Theosophical Society documents online, in an archival style.

I say that I need to go to Zürich Theosophy, Theosophy Zürich. They say that I don’t have to as there are Theosophical groups here in France. {The conversation is entirely in English}. I am adamant I have to go to the Zürich branch because I am missing Switzerland a little. Apparently, I have something for them.

I awake and think, “that was weird and out of the blue.”

Around 19 years ago I attended one meeting of the Theosophical Society in England in Gloucester Place. The talk was well presented and clear, but the whole thing was a bit too “nice cup of tea and a cucumber sandwich” for my liking. I was more Stella Artois and Marlboro Lights at the time.

Much later I had some small interaction with Theosophy Cardiff who were a bit less starchy.

Cassita – Anya Dream – 18-08-21 – Worked Up

This is the second of two dreams from last night and has a dream within a dream.

I am at and academic conference with Cassita {means little house in Spanish}.We are sharing a hotel room {view of the world}but are not lovers. She has the appearance of being South {Power / dreaming / Unknown – the female South?? Nagal woman ??}. American with dark hair {social self-image} a flowing triangular {Triangle / feeling / dreamer} skirt and a lot of ethnic jewellery including large earrings {ears / feeling, Sensitivity lack of??} She is telling me that she is not happy because I have not been giving her enough attention, spending a lot of time at the conference. I say to her that she has been cold shouldering me.

We go out for a walk, and she storms off down a shopping arcade.

I have a meeting with and ex-student in a piazza {Public space exposure / fear of?}. He is now in personal development and is being sued by a rival company for using what the deem their propriety technology. He is not worried because he knows he has done noting wrong. As we talk his CV falls out of his briefcase. I pick it up off the ground, it is extensive and fairly heavy. I say, “wow you really have been busy”. He says, “yes”. He puts it back in the briefcase and we return to the conference hotel.

I meet some American professors {Knowledge in the common view of the world?}there in the lobby. The conference {need for communication ??} is ending, and they would like to see my prototype. I go over to the front desk and ask for my key, under my name and room #442 {4 = stability or lack of, 2 = humility and understanding / need for or a symbol of destiny, 10 = A new cycle. Impeccability through the repletion of past experiences / warning not to fall into old traps, 1 = Fluidity need for or lack of}.The key {Key = answer / solution to is missing}is out but Cassita has left a note to say that she is in the room. {out there suggestion does the solution lie with the female south?}

We go up to the room {View of the world}and knock on the door {possibility}.Cassita is dressed in a bath robe and has wet hair. She is getting ready for the flight home. On the back of the door are hanging two circuit boards with LED displays and some wiring {electricity the nagal / spirit?}.On the desk is a computer keyboard and a small monitor. I show these briefly to the professors and they are impressed. They want to know what our flight number is, they would like to re-arrange it for us so that we can stay longer and have more discussions. Cassita is holding off using the hair dryer whilst they are there. I look into a pile of papers and find my airline ticket {Air travel – awareness with respect to rational ideas and concepts}the flight is only two {2 =humility and understanding / need for or a symbol of destiny} hours’ time and is not changeable / refundable.

We must hurry. Cassita says that I should go on ahead with the luggage {baggage?} and when she is ready, she will follow.

I am now on the airport bus {Social conditioning}driving through the city. It is very Italian in feel with few high rises. I say to the person next to me, now an old flat mate, that the city is very beautiful and unspoiled. The bus driver seems to get lost, and we disembark onto a mountain {Hope}top with a panoramic view {Perception?}of what seems to be the Andes {South again? Power / dreaming / Unknown} CJ {by predilection CJ is a dreaming scholar}and I are a little hesitant walking close to the edge of a precipice. I know with utter certainty that this is a dream and therefore we do not have to worry.

A small very narrow gap {Bit like door -possibility but a narrow and tiny one/ vague sense of secret mission / therefore destiny} appears in the rock which is just small enough for me to squeeze through. This I do and I beckon CJ to follow me. We are on a platform several metres above what looks to be a research facility {new knowledge?}. I can see a step ladder on wheels and try to hook it with my foot so that we can get down.  I can’t quite reach. Two {2 =humility and understanding / need for or a symbol of destiny} men in white {peace need for?}lab coats see what I am trying to do. They move the ladder so that we can get down. I am known to them. I squeeze through another gap and onto the ladder. I descend {Staircase going down, need to reach for deeper implications and a warning not to become retrospective}to the laboratory floor.

The lab has a lot of electronic {electricity the nagal / spirit?}.devices including oscilloscopes, and chart paper machines {think old school paper seismographs} There are a lot of plastic tubes with coloured fluid in them rigged up to some device.  A young woman is approaching with a syringe full of liquid and a very long needle. She asks if I am ready and with which arm {Arm – Idealism, desire, goal orientation}, I wish to begin. I say the less gangrenous one. Apparently, I have been through this procedure multiple times before. I offer her my left {left side knowledge – feeling}arm and there is a big hole {sense of void rather than lack of }in the inside of my elbow joint. She puts the syringe in and presses a plunger. I can feel a vast amount of liquid being injected. After a few minutes she say that I am now primed and am ready for the next part. I ask her if there will be any side effects. “No, only a few psychic glitches after you have been unplugged.”

They plug me into the machine, {electricity the nagal / spirit?} and it starts to monitor my brain function and vital signs. She takes another huge syringe and places it in the hole in my right {right side knowledge – logic} arm she again injects a vast amount of liquid.

I am now dreaming and dreaming it in. 

I am aware of the lab around me and can see all the oscilloscope screens and chart paper pens twitching. After a while the lady in the white {peace / need for}coat unplugs me and takes me to recovery. She is very happy with what has been achieved.

There is somebody at the door {Possibility}.We let him into the foyer. It is soon obvious he has a bad intention, and he tries to get me to fight him. He puts his revolver {Protection / need for sense of a trap here}on the floor and beckons me to pick it up. I know that this is a pretext for an attack on his part. I refuse to pick it up. He an ex-American military {practical physical action}man is getting very agitated. He then stabs me with a device which inflates and in so doing fills itself with a good quantity of my blood {Takes some of my life essence}. My colleagues come to help me get away from him. He runs off thinking that he will be able to reproduce our results from my blood {my life essence}.

We close the large vault like doors {Possibility} to the laboratory and go up some stairs { stairs ascending – the need to recognise and  eradicate separativeness; or the need to reconcile apparently opposing concepts}to a night-time {Dark – Unknown} square in a South {Power / dreaming / Unknown} American village. Some of the professors from the conference are sat there having cocktails. Somehow, they are connected to the attack and want to know how things are progressing.

“Fine”, I say.

At this moment a small blue {humility and understanding sometimes destiny}plastic container on wheels approaches under remote control. There is a soft white glow {Energy  / power} coming from it and a voice which says, “Hello I am Cassita Anya and I am very glad to meet you.”

One of the professors {Knowledge in the common view of the world?} goes over to the container and takes out the small jewellery { hint of gold – nagal / spirit} figure and holds it in his hands { relationships with life the world around him}. He says that it is a hoax.

At this point Cassita Anya {Anja? The little house of Ajna?}animates herself {Vague sense of magic power?} and stands up on his hand glowing {energy power},“Hello I am Cassita Anya and am very glad to meet you”, she says.

The professor is dumbstruck

The dream ends.

Ancillary comment: earlier this week I was contacted by someone from the female south whom I know to be a Southerly Dreamer.

Last night watching Celebrity Master Chef I was reasonably convinced that Penny Lancaster is a Southerly Stalker.

Yesterday in the supermarket I kept banging into a woman and asking myself where I know her from. She is a woman of Southerly persuasion who used to work in the local Tabac.

It is possible ergo that the “wind”, so to speak, is in the South.

The dream came on an 18 day which is the jewel of the nagal being.

On Monday I am due to have an intravenous general anaesthetic.

This is by far the most dreamy and far out dream I have had for a long time.


The first paragraph usually sets the overall message of the dream. In days gone by, I would have interpreted this in terms of my relationship with my dreamer. It would have suggested that I am not listening to my dreamer. But my dreamer always used to appear as a female with dark brown hair of roughly the same age as me. The woman here is over twenty years younger than me and very challenging. The idea being that one’s female half does not incarnate {if male} yet guides as the dreamer. There is a further technical reason why this interpretation of cooperation with dreamer is not possible

During the course of the dream Cassita changes, implicit by my dreaming, into Cassita-Anya. The body disappears and she becomes transformed into jewellery animated and energetically emissive.

There is a strong intuition that the being Cassita represents something of the nagal woman.

After the first paragraph we are back into the more mundane world Steve shows me his CV, the professors want to see my prototype.

This seems quasi real and shallow dreaming to me. It may mean that there is some interest in my patent application. In fact, the dream colouration here is grey, indicating shallowness.

I travel amidst social conditioning until I am dumped on a technicolour mountain top with a glorious panoramic view of the Andes. The dream now “shifts gear” and I know that I am now deep in the dreaming.

There is hope that I will find the tiniest of possibility into an unknown research facility to explore the unknown, a place of experimentation. It may indicate my destiny, there are two gaps, two possibilities and these are tiny.

In the context of the Nagal / spirit I am taken deeper into the dreaming using both left and right side awareness. It is during this dreaming that I dream in Cassita Anya who is not of a normal form.

There is a warning that someone will try to steal my life essence and I must be wary and take protective measures. They may try to copy what I have done.

They will not believe that which I have helped to created…

There is an alternate explanation and that is I may get treated like a lab rat in “real life”.

Working version which awaits corroboration from the day time dreaming

“If I cooperate with the female side of power {the nagal aspect} in the context of the dreaming I will be able to manifest something transformed. I will have to contend with and transcend social conditioning and disbelief from the common view of the world. There is hope that I can do this and some possibilities for it to happen. I must be impeccable and not fall into old traps. There could be an element of destiny starting to manifest.”

The dream is pointing directly at The Unknown

Seb. the Witch and the Monk Dream 18-08-21

Here is the first dream, a bit thematically diverse to the second one.

I am on a showground on a large country estate in England. Some kind on agricultural county show has just taken place. A few metres from me is Seb’s mother. {Seb was a tutorial client of mine.} She asks me how things are and welcomes me to their estate.  I say things are fine. Up on the viewing stands Seb appears and says Hi.

Together the three of us walk off to the main house which is magnificent. They both go on inside and I meet Seb’s father who is dressed in a very English country gent manner. “Welcome back into the fold old chap. I say would you be so kind as to park up the mower and the small trailer?

I go back to the field and drive the trailer and then the mower into the internal courtyard of the house.

I ask If I should park them in the usual place.

“Yes, you remember where they used to go, don’t you?”

I drive them round to the barn storage area where I encounter Seb’s sister and older brother.  The sister is in charge and the brother is her side kick. She says Hi and gesticulates into the barn.

I park the vehicles up and approach her.

As I get closer small dark smoky tendrils start to emanate from her and to a lesser extent her brother.

She says “Damn, that only used to happen when I was near that Christian monk from two lifetimes ago. The one who outed me as a witch!”

In the dream I know it was me who was the Christian priest monk she is referring to. She does not yet guess this.

Dream ends.