Diary: Imagery of Heaven


Feeling very grateful to be living in one of the most beautiful parts of the world. Reflecting on what heaven on earth would really be like: an eternal spring – a passion of wildflowers – lying on a grassy bank, feeling completely connected to the earth, being in love with the sky up above – kissed and caressed by the breath of the wind.

In another dream, I am in the centre of a lake on an exceptionally still and clear day, meditating in an old rowing boat – the sun is at the centre of your every thought, approaching dusk, without ever disappearing – a return to the land of Hyperborea, where light is inescapable and eternal.

I long for the light, as I long not to be so darkened, so demon-plagued, so wrested from my own self-control. To be blessed with an easy consciousness – to have a mind that is all forest, mountain, and wood – that is rooted in the very essence of serenity, and has slayed and subdued the teaching demon called PANIC.

To be a poet is to be a prophet, and the act of putting pen to paper can be so intense, so thrilling, and so dangerous, that it can be a horror and a wonder to behold your own words; especially when you’ve had the experience of writing things in mystic cluelessness, only to have them realized perfectly later – to predict the words you will spontaneously utter, as you scream in an empty field.

And at our most weak, terrified, and vulnerable, everybody longs for a great cosmic mother – for some warm and undying essence to inject us into its arms, when we call out “That’s enough – I can’t take it anymore – o, please, o please, just give me some rest!”

And she comes then, that mother, that Tara, that Virgin Mary, that Shekkinah, that Prajnaparamita, That Ground of all being. She comes, and she bundles you into her arms and says – “It’s all right – I’ve got you – you are safe, warm, and protected – nothing awful ever needs to happen to you again.”

Is fear the gateway to that mother? Fear can be a gateway to many things, and the presence of The Divine Mother can be experienced in a myriad different ways. Hecate and Venus are one. Kali and Lakshmi are two sides of the same loving and destructive coin – pacifying you and terrifying you in accordance with the motions of the stars.

And while I am not of the kind to shun a fear that can teach me so much, I still request that I be granted a leave of absence from The Palace of Anxiety. I do not want to be reduced to a fit of tremors and screams anymore. Grant me some warmth, some peace, some friendly bosom to lay on; for while I am a Child of the Universe, this child does not want to be a burden on anyone – he wants to be blessed with the tranquilized peace of mind to chase butterflies in the woods.


Dream Diary: Hurricane


I am in a trailer park, when a small hurricane seems to erupt out of nowhere. One of my friends, an American, has just entered into his trailer. I hide behind the trailer, thinking that the hurricane will surely not be strong enough to push it over. But I am wrong. The trailer quickly falls on its side, and I have to run into an alleyway to try and shelter myself from its maleficent interference.

However, at this point, it becomes clear that the hurricane is a conscious entity, and is clearly able to read my thoughts and fathom my intentions. It follows me down the alley way, but I somehow am able to escape.

I’m so impressed by the sequence, that I keep on harping about this psychic hurricane for the rest of the dream. But no one pays me much attention, and they basically think I am cuckoo – no change there then!

Later on, I am in America at another trailer park. I make some good friends there – a man and wife. We are saying goodbye, when we are surprised to discover that they actually live in Bristol, or another location quite close to me. We are all excited by this, and make arrangements to meet up with eachother when we get back home.

Things get a bit confusing after that. It’s rather uncertain as to whether we’re driving to the airport, or staying for another night. I am rather confused as to how I got to America to begin with, and what my flight arrangements are for going home.

Another couple has joined us. The five of us stop at a roadside canteen. One of the couples look like two friends of mine. The woman accuses her partner of flirting with all the other girls, and being unfaithful, and gets really quite wrathful. All this is taking place whilst I am helping myself to a rather large pile of food.

Things just get stranger after that. Pretty soon, a semi-calm-hysterical malaise comes over us as all these bizarre packages begin to show up, which we believe to be alien in origin. I find some weird elastic gloves in my room. As I am looking out the window, a large, multi-tiered lorry shows up. The other two couples start clambering on it, to retrieve whatever is in it. They all seem to be in a trance by this point.

The lorry seems to be largely empty, except for a jetski, and a sandstone monolith. Very Space Odyssey: 2001! I do not remember much more after that.

Train station at Bristol. Changing clothes by a bin. Thinking about sleeping in my car.


A hurricane is a natural force, and a wild, unpredictable, and disastrous one. It is conscious, just as all nature is. Insecurity about life deliberately pursuing me or chasing me. Something inescapable, or over which I have no control. Fear of how my thoughts affect reality in a potentially destructive way. Fear of Karma. The trailer is a refuge, but is easily knocked over. A reminder of the futility of taking refuge in worldly things.

A hurricane is cyclical like samsara. Comprised of concentrated wind and air pressure, it represents wind energy at its extreme. A warning of the need to harmonize my energies and avoid extremes? According to my dream dictionary, a hurricane can also represent extreme passion, and our ability to control it. Again, perhaps a caveat to not allow it to get the better of me. It also signifies trouble/difficulty, sudden and unexpected. Though it is dangerous, I do ultimately manage to escape, so I can acquire confidence from that.

No one believes me when I tell them about it. Mystical or supernatural experiences are difficult to transmit or convey to people who have not experienced them. Being selective about who I tell. Feeling isolated from my spiritual community/sangha.

Abroad. In a foreign country. Not knowing where I am. Uncertain about my placement in life or the direction I am heading in. Exploring the unknown, and relying upon the people I meet along the way to help me. Discovering that foreign companionship is far closer than I thought. Random travel.

Altercation in Canteen. Jealousy and conflict in relationships is a risk at the moment. Temporarily stopping for sustenance and renewal.

Gifts from aliens. Unexpected events or circumstances of unknown origins. Feeling that some unknown force is deliberately inferring with my life? Jetski – a powerful vehicle for travelling through difficult emotions. Gloves – shielding and armouring oneself in vulnerability and danger. Monolith – a mysterious monument to ancient knowledge. Finding the unusual and esoteric right on my doorstep!

Bristol – more dreams of being lost on the way, uncertainty, impoverished, having nothing or no one I can take refuge in.



Dream Diary: The Terrifying Fall

hell ride

Very interesting dream. I am walking around a large city, and ended up on some sort of school/college/university campus. Though the campus possesses a rather intricate system of staircases and elevators, for those who are interested in an added thrill, the school system has integrated a plexus of terrifying amusement park rides within the building. The higher you go up, the more terrifying they get. A good friend of mine was there. Somehow, I he convinced to try one of the rides, and take on Level Four.

It is certainly scary at first, but I find quite manageable . . .  until the end, that is, when the ride comes to a tunnel, at the end of which is a full-blown vertical drop. I can feel the G-force practically tearing me apart, and I feel more terrified than I can remember, truly feeling like I am going to die. I even try and do some deep breathing and mindfulness as I plummet, though it is very hard to maintain in such circumstances. I arrive at the bottom still awake and alive.


Interpretation –

It reminds me a lot of the dream I had in the autumn last year, shortly before a significant romantic change in my life. In the dream, I was at the top of a London hotel. I was a woman in a lesbian romance that had occurred as a consequence of some trauma that had changed the woman’s personality, and caused her to fall in love with the other woman, when she had felt nothing for her previously. A bit like David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive She had a phone trapped in her chest. Something happens, and I fall, as her, out the window, through the air, and down to the ground, where I am shot to smithereens by a SWAT team with lots of guns and ammunition.

A fall is like the trigram of the Abyss in the I Ching, indicating a venture, a fall, a final calamitous death or disaster before the stillness of the mountains and the rebirth of thunder. That this fall takes place within a university symbolizes that it is all part of a learning curve, and is meant to educate me. But, being a ride, I should also try my best to enjoy it and take delight in it, as it will eventually come to an end. However, it is only a level four ride, reminding me, ominously, that there a far greater falls in life (and death) to come. Things my start off manageably enough, but, at the end, may be far more challenging and terrifying than I could ever anticipate. Even my deepest technique will barely take the edge off. Trying to be peaceful in the midst of a sudden an unexpected disaster or transformation. Falling from a height – losing my sense of consciousness, or perhaps access to a higher perspective.

Also, when we are free-fall, we are more or less completely out control, and, beyond how we manoeuvre ourselves whilst in the air, we are at the mercy of gravity. Feeling out of control. At the mercy of circumstances beyond my control. Complete helplessness – also, being more or less beyond being able to receive the help of anyone.





Dream Diary: Opening Night


It is the opening night of a rather intricate performance I am involved. It is a stage performance, and there are lots of differing scenes of differing styles in which I have a variety of monologues. However, my attitude to the show has been so relaxed, that I realize I do not actually know any of my lines, and may just have to make them up. I have several monologues towards the end of the show, one in which I think I take on the role of a great Buddha or Bodhisattva, possibly Manjushri or Maitreya. I am debating whether I have time to look through my script , or whether I should just go out and wing it. I feel a little ashamed of myself, as I am usually so well prepared and rehearsed.

I wake up at one point, and then return to the dream, feeling very relieved that I don’t actually have to learn anything at all. The Muppets Show. Someone is talking to me about a sequence so embarrassing that it had be cancelled. Theatre. Large rooms of people.

Also, after sharing a joke, I used it to share a protracted hug with a female friend. It is a very close and emotional hug, and very enjoyable to experience.


Opening night. I have two shows coming up – The Wizard of Oz, and my gig on Friday. It is true that I have not rehearsed very intensely for either of them, so there are insecurities about how well it will go, especially the gig. Feelings of being unprepared. Improvisation. Only becoming fully aware of responsibilities when perhaps it is too late to live up to them.

Some of the monologues are speeches in the form of a Buddha or Bodhisattva. Wanting to enlighten other beings and become a living Buddha, but feeling unprepared or unfit for the role. My current insecurity about my worthiness as a Buddhist/teacher due to the lack of my consummate ability to always master my wily energy. Fear of having my failings and unprofessionalism openly displayed to the public. But the setting of a theatre just reminds me that life is all an illusion anyway, and that, like in the theatre, after a performance, we can always take off out self-limiting identities and return to the source.

The Muppets. Often used as slang to describe a fool or a moron. I feel stupid, or am associating with foolish people? Puppets are controlled rather than controlling. Having my strings pulled by others? Or watching how easily others have their strings pulled? Fear of using my wisdom and insight to unconsciously manipulate others.

I travel through lots of very beautiful, but dangerous and remote mountain regions. Mountains usually indicate oncoming obstacles that must be climbed and surmounted. That they are very high indicates the potential level of difficult. But, climbing over a high obstacle, we become high too. The beauty also shows the beauty and joy that can result from having the fortitude to overcome difficult situations and be transformed by them. I think we go on a railway. Life’s journey. Unknown terrain.

Hug from female friend. Coming to terms with the effect she has had on my life, and feeling comfortable with her. Using lightness to attain deep intimacy. Humour as a gateway to closeness. Embracing and coming together with others. Allowing such things to happen spontaneously, instead of through strategized contrivance.

Dream Diary: Sleeping on the River


I enter some underground world that is meant to be a recreation of some Tibetan paradise. It sounds like an idealized, ancestral culture. The practice that really stayed with me from the dream is that all the members of these tribes would go to sleep by swaddling themselves in enormous leaves, and just float down the beautiful warm river. It was completely safe to do this – and, because they all had a peripatetic lifestyle and no permanent encampment, it was of no consequence to them if the river carried them to a completely new place. They would just move on, and adapt to wherever they found themselves when they woke up, because the land would always give them what they needed.

I was encouraged to try out for myself this technique of river sleeping, and it was incredibly relaxing and comforting, being held lovingly in the all-embracing flow of this magical river. The landscape seemed to be tinged with blue, and the spiritual beings who lived there were also floating down the rapids.

When we returned to the surface, the place where this wonderland was stored just seemed to be a somewhat dingy old mining facility. As we came out, I could see the shimmering of water on the ceiling and was wondering where it was coming from. There was a pail of water on the other side of the room. Perhaps that was the source of the river?


Mystic wonderland underground. This is an exhortation to return to the source, to the beautiful mystic realms and ancient Ways that exist within me. My meditation and general awareness has been far too shallow lately, and if I really want to feel happy and interconnected again, I must return fully to them.

Sleeping on the flowing river – allowing myself to relax in the all-embracing current of The Way. Trusting myself to this Ancestral Force, knowing that I can even go to sleep in it, and lose myself in it, without having to worry about danger; always knowing that I will always be able to adapt and find nourishment in whatever new locale of experience I happen to find myself. That this wonderland is meant to be Tibet in some way is also a suggestion from the spirit that I need to bring back awareness to my past life identities, and interweave them beneficially with the awareness of my current existence.

But the wonderland is just contained within an ugly mineshaft. A reminder that the supernatural hides within the natural – that the waking time and dream time are one – that reality and delusion always co-exist. (The wonderland is reality, the normal world is delusion). The mine-shaft is actually a mind-shaft – a reminder of the need to always dig in as deep as I can into the primordial origins of my consciousness, and that, like the ripple effect on the ceiling, the reflection of the sublime can always be witnessed in the waking world.

Dream Diary: Difficulty Reaching The Other Shore

lost in the city

Didn’t sleep much last night, so, naturally, the dreams were not as epic in proportion as usual. I was in a city, London, and with another companion (male) in tow, trying to get to a relative’s house, or somewhere else where we were intending to stay. It was quite late already, and I think both of us were beginning to get concerned, as neither of us really had any idea of where we were going. I think he was hoping to rely on me, and I was hoping to rely upon him, with disastrous results!

We stop at a large building, perhaps a small university, art gallery, or college campus for a brief spell, mostly plain brickwork, looking into dull glass cabinets, talking to other people.

It is even darker once we leave, and we are really starting to get worried now. He wants me to call my friend/relative for directions, but I feel reluctant to do so, and would rather he did it, or that we would simply try and get to our bivouac through our own intuition. We know the relative’s house is in a square – a closed community based on some film – perhaps, Stars Wars or Harry Potter. At one point, it seems the only way of moving forward is to get on a freighter ostensibly carrying people over the water to the other side. My companion rushes to climb aboard. But I perceive that the bottom of the boat is flooded with water, and do not get on, thinking this to be a dangerous passage. To my knowledge, we never reach our destination.

Interpretation: This seems to ratify what the I Ching said in my last divination – it is advisable not to go anywhere, and to be correct in all my ventures!

As yet another city dream, it seems likely I may be finding myself in one again soon, for some purpose or other. Also complexity – the confusion of being in large, complex, unknown circumstances – a melting pot of different thoughts, ideas, and feelings. Uncertain about the art gallery/college, though, learning, as always, is to be expected.

The darkness and cold suggests ignorance, and the urgency of wanting to find refuge within it, but being too ignorant and non-plussed to know how to do so! Conflict between methods – part of me wants to be exceedingly direct and is methodical in pursuit of this aim. The other is uncomfortable with this, not wanting to interact or inconvenience others. Slightly more patient, but still feeling worried, he wants to be slower, more intuitive, and let things play out naturally. The gated community is square – stable and balanced – a refuge in the dark complexity of the city – but not easy of access – such stability and security is not always easy to map out or find, especially in unfamiliar circumstances. Yearning for support and mutuality.

The get there, we have to cross a river – The Great River mentioned in the I Ching. There is a passage carrying lots of people across, but it is water-logged and dangerous – one is gradually being overwhelmed by emotion and potentially overcome by the immensity of life. For now, it is simply not worth the risk – it is not time to cross the river. In keeping with the oracle, progress is difficult, and it is best to wait in caution and rectitude, instead of violently forging on ahead – especially when one is not sure of where one is forging ahead too! To abide in patience and wait in darkness – that seems to be the obvious meaning to the dream.




Diary of a Mystic: The Pregnancy of Isis


Green Tara Mantra. Divine Feminine invoked. I see an Egyptian goddess naked in the desert, her only adornment an elaborate headdress. Her beauty is striking, the sky is blue, and the desert sands are whirling opaquely around her. Her breasts are swollen with promise – her manner is graceful and serene. Her belly swells gravidly as she become pregnant. I focus on making my own body female, and visualize enfolding a womb of pure energy and potential within.

A man in a snow-covered land is sodomizing a dog, very much like a scene from an Eskimo Tale. The dog runs off, and I experience being the dog, dashing urgently through the snow, knowing that I have a message to convey.

Let’s analyze this like we do my dreams. Sand represents impermanence and constant change – beating around us, it signals the mysterious and vague. Isis pregnant with the newborn Horus – the thus come Osiris. Signals that life will be giving birth to new things, and that I, too, may be giving birth to a new version of myself – rightly so, after all my deaths! Swollen breasts – ripeness, fertility, comfort, nourishment, timeliness, the abundance of Spring. Also, the rebirth of ancient mysteries, and the divinity within us.

Man sodomizing a dog. Returning to one’s animal nature? Base instincts? Union of higher and lower? Conjoining one’s self with the qualities of a dog – loyal, devoted, playful, yet animalistic? Assuming the man came, then the dog has literally been filled with a message of sorts. Urgency, communication. Snow – purity, death, loneliness – racing through death to reach purity?

Dream Diary: The Gangster and the Rainbow


Dream 21/2/2016 

I am performing a gig in a rather seedy joint, though it is no more spectacular than your standard village hall. In fact, I think it may well be the village hall in Lydbrook. I perform a few songs there on guitar, which seem to be well-received, though I am not entirely sure what I am playing. I think one of the songs is meant to be from Miss Saigon, though it sounds nothing like it, quite groovy and bluesy. I think I have a backing band, but I am not sure. The gig is very late, possibly sometime around two or three in the morning, but definitely after midnight.

After the gig, I go out into the corridor, and begin speaking with one of the other girls who works there, who is also a Virgo. We are both working for some lowlife gangster, though we do not see him, but both refer to him by name. I then speak to a new girl, who is Madchen Amick from Twin peaks. She is wearing the same sort of costume as she does in Norma’s Diner, and appears to be about twenty one. We talk, and I guess – correctly – that she is also a Virgo!

It seems the gangster has a system of regularly sleeping with all the girls who work for him. Madchen and I both get on our bicycles, and I go for a ride with her in the woods, to take her to the rendezvous point where we will meet the gangster. The area we are cycling through is the road and bridge section near Llanellen, with also elements of the cycle path in Llanfoist. I feel quite professional about the job I am doing, and am pleased to be getting an income; but, it is only as I dwell more deeply on what I am involved in, that I begin to feel horror and revulsion for what is essentially slavery and prostitution. I begin to empathise with Madchen, and wonder how she feels about her systematic role in this. Is the sex tantamount to rape? Does she enjoy it? Is she indifferent to it? Is it something she just blocks off in the back of her mind for the sake of survival? I do not know any of these things, and perhaps, neither does Madchen.

Flophouses, dirty rooms, shady characters, and drug dealers. I wonder what I am doing around such people, and again feel revulsion.  Walking around lots of dull, twisting estates. They just seem to go on and on without any purpose. I speak to a friend. Though there has been much difficulty lately, she tells me that the bonus has been an explosion in the number of rainbows. She points one out, and it is possibly one of the clearest and most distinct rainbows I have ever seen, almost like an actual bow of pure spectral color.


A gangster is a criminal – an immoral person who is willing to exploit, injure, and kill others in order to benefit himself through acquisition of money and sense-gratification. That I am working for such a person suggests the danger of allowing yourself to become associated with corrupt people, in order to satisfy your own needs and fears. Just because I am not actively participating in any of the more gory aspects of the racket, I am still enabling it through my participation and professionalized ignorance. So, even benign associations can be quite macabre if we allow them to circumvent our moral compass.

On one level, the gangster represent my shadow self, as well as my lower, demoniac self. It is a warning to be aware of the existence of such things, without allowing them to rule me, and compromise the integrity of my heart and mind. This is especially relevant, as being ill with fever, feeling irritable, tired, and restless, it has been difficult for me to maintain my usual tranquillity and selflessness. Selfishness has been lurking insidiously, even if, like my fever or the gangster, I cannot literally see it. The location of the village hall as a sort of speakeasy is another example of the malevolent hiding itself within the benign – false yin hiding in false yang.

That the dream takes place at night –as many have done recently – once again shows that the confusion of the benighted consciousness is still in power – though dawn is on the way, and, with it, clarity will come. This promise is further abetted by the rainbow seen later in the dream – and, indeed, I did see a beautiful rainbow this morning.

The rainbow, as in the Wizard of Oz, is an entrance to the otherworld – like the rainbow bridge to Valhalla in Nordic Mythology. It is a possibility to ascend up the color spectrum to a whole new mode of being and experiencing. Like the sun, it also indicates the reprieve and liberation after a period of difficulty. To the Australian Aborigines, the Rainbow Serpent was the tapestry of infinity itself. It also indicates death and transformation. All of these meanings are abundantly appropriate to my life at the moment, and in moments to come. It is an encouraging promise – the otherworldly becoming much more real.

I perform three songs, but I’m not sure what I’m doing – I do not feel as in control of myself as usual, and the fruits I bear are surprising and unexpected – they may be well received, even I do not fully understand them, or cannot yet fully control them – my astral life, too, has been harder to control since I’ve been ill.

Working with two Virgo women. I certainly have met a lot of Virgo women recently, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there is more to come. That they are the same star sign as me means they are representatives of my feminine aspect. Though I am working with them, the fact that I am also enabling them to be prostituted shows that I am not showing my femininity the greatest respect, or using it to the highest benefit. I must be more respectful of it, and put it to a higher use.

The cycling and the wandering – movement on the journey of life. The twisty streets are a labyrinth. Labyrinths are symbols of the maze like nature of life – sometimes encountering monsters and obstacles; dead ends; and prizes. We are trapped in ignorance, because, being within the maze, we do not know its construct. Feeling lost and trapped and in need of guidance. Weighed down by the ephemeral boredom of life – trapped within mundane, squalid circumstances.

The flophouses and drug-dealers once again show that I am coming into contact with the dirty, and delusional aspect of my mind. They must be accepted, cleaned, and returned to a state of wholeness.







Dream Diary and Analysis: The Underground College



Lots of complex dreams last night which I may struggle to arrange into a linear sequence.

I am in an incredibly large art college. The part in which we are residing is almost like an enormous trench, deeply grooved into the ground, with enormous facades rising up on either side. What a strange, strange building! We are doing an exhibit of all our final art pieces. People are rope climbing up the sides of these enormous walls to hang up our art for us like gargantuan banners. My work will be the first piece to displayed and judged once exhibition begins, and I’m feeling a little anxious about it – probably doesn’t help that I’ve no idea what my final piece is! Quite dark and sinister down there . . . . other parts of the college, large piles of cardboard boxes and labyrinthine corridors. Playing games. Are we paying a game of basket ball in one of the rooms, or in some other way horsing around? Yes, but there is a knock at the door, and I know there is something else sinister going on, though I could not relate what.

Standing outside another university, much brighter being outside, attractive red-brick building. I’m stood next to a red telephone box. End of the day? Am I picking someone up? I have been to this university in another dream, where I was trying to find the train route home. Dark streets.

I am walking down the castle meadows by the river. There is some sort of festival going on, and, as a result, there are a large number of cars parked all over the place, including down by the meadows, which is sometimes used as an overflow. I see some large otherworldly creatures flying about in the sky. I do not remember what the initial ones were; but, the final one is a large flying whale. I want to get closer to it and discover why it’s there. Even though I acknowledge it could be dangerous, finding out about its true nature seems to be far more important. In general, I do not recall seeing anyone I know very well in these dreams at all. Though, there was a small segment with n old friend. I was talking to him about being able to read minds, and he was rather insulting about it, telling me that I couldn’t. I was trying to inform him that being a mind-reader does not instantly enable you to know everything, but his ignorance was immoveable. Though irritated, I think I accepted it without getting particularly upset.


A vast, labyrinthine college, deep below the ground – I am really learning and being educated about very deep matters which are incredibly complex and profound. I clearly do not know my way around this vast new terrain I am encountering, and feel a little lost, and in need of guidance. Though, no guide comes, suggesting that I will do alright if I keep persevering and having faith in my fearless drive to explore ever deeper and deeper. The cardboard boxes symbolize storage and memories – perhaps also the profound and wise hidden within the seemingly bland and identical – the lapis stone in which the gold is discretely hidden. It suggests that there is a lot to be explored, and a lot of boxes to be rifled through. The truth is not found in just a single one of them – just more and more pieces of the puzzle that I must keep on putting together to assemble an ever clearer picture of the nature of reality.

I do not recognize the students, meaning that I have more new friendships and associations to make along the way, and that my future will continue to beset my completely unfamiliar circumstances and experiences, becoming ever more complex and deep – and long may it continue to do so! I am a warrior, and I want nothing less than to keep hurling myself into the unknown, and enlightening myself and others through the bounty of obscurity that I discover.

My art piece is the first to be shown. This suggests the sense of something impending – more prognostications about my uncertainty of the future of my artistic life; though, given that I am the first to have their work shown, that the reality of it will be unfurled soon is apparent. Knocking at the door – something unknown is making its way in, but I have no understanding of it yet. The darkness and depth only compound this meaning. The rope climbing suggests an ascent – the need to rise upwards, and overcome obstacles through facing fears.

The other university is a continuation of yesterday’s dream, where I was also just on verge of leaving a classroom. The brief display of sunlight outside indicates a brief moment of clarity in otherwise obscure situation.The red telephone box – a glaring and bold need to communicate.

Walking down by the meadows – openness and freedom. The car park, as with yesterday’s dream, indicates the need to take a momentary rest from my journey. The flying whale in the sky was clearly an astral phenomena. Though I am encountering many strange things, which could be dangerous for all I know, I am still bringing myself closer and closer to it, to investigate its properties more clearly.

The whale is a deep sea creature – it is not normally something we see swimming through the sky! Things are becoming topsy-turvy – things seem to be where they shouldn’t . . .  but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be there – it’s just an example of how we ignorantly deceive ourselves by always trying to structure things. Whales are intelligent, musical, soulful animals, usually hidden from sight, though incredibly powerful. The hidden powers and intelligences of the universe are making themselves apparent, plain for all to see, though I seem to be the only paying them any regard. It reminds me very much of Tao Te Ching 20:

All the men are merry and joyous

As though partaking in a great feast

Or ascending the terrace of spring

I alone am rooted in tranquillity . . .

Calm and peaceful as the depths of the ocean

The festival means celebrations, parties, and jubilation are on the horizon. I may well be part of them – but I definitely – literally – have bigger fish to fry! And so feel indifferent and detached. Marvellous, marvellous dreams!




Dream Diary: Nick Cave & The Ghost Train

ghost train

I am watching a weird video that Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds have made. It starts with the band in Cave’s studio, listening to a track in construction from their new album. It is mostly minimalist piano, with synthesizers and Nick’s voice speaking eerily over the top. The band look bored and unimpressed – given that there are at least six of the them, I wonder what they’re all actually meant to be doing. Then they get up, and start delivering a lecture in a school room (the children cannot be seen). They act hilariously, like maniacs, and speak all sorts of nonsense, before running over to the bulletin board, turning themselves into newspaper people, and running away.

The next part of the video is more typical of a music video. It is set outside a highway service station/diner. Cave is on a motorbike with leather jacket and long hair, whilst PJ Harvey is dressed in an American waitress’s uniform, with dyed pink hair. She looks more like an R&B pin-up girl than PJ Harvey. Cave sings for a bit, and then Harvey takes over for the chorus. But it does not really sound like her, and the chorus sounds a bit lifeless, and lacking in memorability, as though it was meant to be powerful, but really isn’t.

I enter into the service station, and go into the dark, lady’s bathroom on the right. At this point, I become aware that I’m dreaming. I go up to the pink-haired PJ Harvey, who is leaning against the sink, and begin to caress her, clearly able to feel sensation of her clothes, and very real curves of her hips and bottom. But I am not interested in indulgence – instead, I just briefly merge my energy with hers, which is much more vitalizing – she feels like an automaton, and very much a hollow construction of the mind.

I run out into the corridor, and enjoy the sensation of fullness, calling out ‘I have a healthy heart and a healthy mind!’ over and over again, to assuage any fears I have about my mind’s influence on my body in this state. There is almost a video game-like hollowness to the building. I know I will have to wake up soon, and don’t have much time to explore things fully, so I am conflicted as to what to do. I go into the kitchen – project myself up through the ceiling, but there isn’t really anything there.

I decide to go outside. However, at that point, I become detached from my dream body, much to my annoyance, and am forced to lay on the floor as the dream concludes itself. I see myself standing there, before my body gets snatched away by a gangster’s limousine. A fat Italian says:
“Whatever you say; that man sure was an attractive gorilla,” before adding, “It’s your right to do someone in, you know!” though it may be the detached Reuben who says that last line. I return to my sleeping body.

Earlier in the dream I had been in Monmouth. I am waiting for the bus to come, but the bus is late. Instead, I get on a train. The train is a murder train, taking its passengers through all the spooky parts of Wales, as the conductor narrates all of the macabre things that occurred along the way. We pass a bubbling hot spring beneath a bridge, the landscape all drenched in fog. The conductor informs us that this is where a welsh madman used to hide the bodies of his tortured victims. The thought sends a shiver through me.

It’s night now, and everyone is asleep on the train. Creepy, barely audible minimalist music is playing, and shadow people walk up and down the aisles. If you stare down the aisle, a bright light emerges from down the carriage, which is strangely terrifying. Once again, this whole sequence has a very video game feel to it, reminding me of sequences from Everyone’s Gone to Rapture.



The ghost train section is easiest to interpret. As other dreams have suggested, it indicates that forward progress will be made through entering into darkness and being willing to die/transform, and face the things that I fear, but am secretly fascinated by. The fact that I travel by train and not bus indicates this journey will be out of the ordinary and unfamiliar. That the dead bodies were stored in water indicates the impact of emotions in psycho-spiritual transformation.

The repeated, hollow video game feel is a lesson on the essential artificiality and emptiness of reality – a reminder not to get attached to physical things, as they are all essentially empty and ephemeral, just part of the programming of life.

The boredom indicates my growing detachment from artistic affairs, able to enjoy them, without being obsessed with them. The lecture indicates the power of crazy wisdom as a teaching method, that my own methods will become increasingly more eccentric, though I may not feel them to be so. And the sudden shapeshift into newspaper men also indicates sudden swift transformation, and the power of words to actively contribute to the construction of reality.