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.
In some quarters people like the notion of cunning plans, with which they outwit another being.
These cunning plans are devised so as to conceal, manipulate and avoid responsibility. They are designed to hide, they may even involve direct lying and the keeping of secrets. They can be as obvious as a fake insurance claim or they could be much more subtle. In general, cunning plans are not honest, open and inclusive. Cunning plans most often pertain to the dark side. They nearly always contain some measure of getting one over on another being. Some people like to be clever, don’t they Trevor? Cunning plans can be made to self-advance.
Often the full implication of the cunning plan is not considered. The joy of scheming is sufficient and one of the major implications of such plans is the karmic boomerang effect. Some how this phenomenon is rarely included in cunning plans. For whatever reason cunning plans are nearly always blind to this noumenon. Cunning plans are difficult not to launch, because they seem so damned cunning, there is such a temptation.
These cunning plans often have a flavour of “getting away with something”. This may apparently work in the short term, but in the long term that boomerang is on its way back. That return may be decades in the making.
Although cunning plans seem clever, they are rarely wise. Under duress they may be the only option, but that is not when they are most often put into place. Generally, “cunning plans” are of a somewhat petty nature.
Because of the boomerang effect cunning plans can be the gift that keeps on giving…they can require even more cunning to stop the boomerang landing, which creates yet another boomerang.
One can get so cunning that one becomes dizzy.
Brexit was such a good idea that apparently UK exports to Europe are down something like 70% so far this year. Nobody promised us this when they sold us this cunning plan, funny that.
Sometimes we can be tempted into making one compromise too many…
Was it worth it
In the end?
When you sold it
Down at the bazaar?
On a winters’ night
Do you miss it still?
Is there a bitter echo
Where it was?
Does your shiny shell
See the yolk?
Your scrambled heart
Does it ache?
And down that river
Where you bargained,
Did they offer you
A decent price?
Or do you wish
To touch once again
and vital, Soul?