The Scarf… There’s the Culprit.

12.12.202109.12.2024 Arvin da BrghaLeave a comment

Without doubt, though the most reviled black woman on the planet, I knew that though cited as the instigator in the tabloid media, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex could not have been the cause of the obvious rift between Diana, Princess of Wales’ sons: HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge and HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex. When someone is guilty of having wronged, denigrated or slandered another, that guilty party is always acutely uncomfortable in the presence of the subject of their animus. This past Christmas church service at Sandringham, HRH Prince William unwittingly unmasked himself as the guilty party. I never for a moment believed that Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge was the instigator.

In September 2017 when HRH Prince George of Cambridge was widely photographed attending his first day of school in Battersea, one thing stood out in the reporting at the time: his father’s very close friend and cousin, Lord Frederick Windsor’s daughter Maud by actor wife, Sophie Winkleman also attends the same school. This is the same cousin whose cocaine addiction had caused HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales to put an end to the close relations his sons enjoyed with their cousin; however, HRH Prince William remained close to this cousin.

One of the things that struck me is the interviews given after their engagement was announced in late November 2017.

Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall was her usual adroit, eloquent self, and her husband,

HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales was the second most upbeat.

At the time, HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge was less upbeat, did not mention Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex; rather, he essentially characterised his brother as a thief.

Similarly, Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge spoke of their happiness but never mentioned Ms. Markle and this came a day later after her husband; indeed, it was as though, Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge had been tasked with doing damage control after William’s snub of Meghan by nmentioning her name.

A month after the engagement announcement, though not yet a royal bride, Meghan Markle was invited to attend HM The Queen’s traditional Christmas lunch with her especially enamoured fiancé, HRH Prince Henry of Wales. So as not to be mistaken, the continental put-on wore a starkly white coat such that her blackamoor brooch would not be properly photographed on a dark coat. At the time, there was justifiable furore in the press and the narcissistic twit was made to issue a rather disingenuous-sounding mea culpa. Clearly, she could never in a million years have acted on her own.

Later that month, Christmas Day, 2017, again Meghan not being from Britain was invited – though not yet a royal spouse – to HM The Queen’s Christmas Church Service at Sandringham. On looking at the video, it was clear that there was tensions between the two senior royal couples. By that point, there was widespread open animus towards Ms. Markle and though it was never directly addressed and always vehemently denied, her race was the source of the vitriol. Whilst entering the church, there was smugness from HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge towards Ms. Markle. As they left the church, there was no denying HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales’ open affection for Ms. Markle and in the above photograph, he is beaming directly at Ms. Markle, making her feel welcome whilst the keenly onlooking HRH Prince William in the rear was tense-looking.

A couple of months later, when appearing as the ‘Fab Four’ charter members of the Royal Foundation, HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge spent most of his time crouched forward; his posture was predatory and he was keenly eagle-eyed as he monitored Ms. Markle’s performance. As ever, HRH Prince Henry of Wales looked nervous, Ms. Markle was poised though her chief feature tended at times to get the better of her – more on that later. I shall do a thorough overview of these major royals’ Michael Overleaves, which were channelled by two authentic Michael channellers and by none of the ever burgeoning scores of two-bit charlatans.

Finally, the big day arrived for Diana’s younger son; and what a wedding it would prove. There sat HRH Prince William displaying those urges for which a life at public school leaves one possessed of certain proclivities. In the above photograph, William is eyeing Ben Mulroney – well, because he can – at the time neither of his inner circle chums (Thomas & Charlie van Straubenzee) were present in the quire. At least on two other occasions, William openly coveted Mr. Mulroney during his brother’s nuptials.

On her arrival to the altar to join her husband, Meghan looking more confident and radiant than most brides was being suspiciously eyed by her brother-in-law in his role of disproving, to say nothing of delusional, final arbiter.

As the newlywed TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex departed St. George’s Chapel in the Ascot Landau, all the members of the Cambridge family at the top of the west steps waved off the couple save, of course, HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge. He kept holding George’s hand and the order of service in the other.

Windsor, HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge 21/6/1982 London, England

Michael: This fragment is sixth-level mature scholar – third life thereat. William is in the observation mode with a goal of acceptance. A pragmatist, he is in the intellectual part of moving centre.

Body type is Lunar/Mars/Saturn.

William’s primary chief feature is stubbornness – death of his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales, was the triggering event and the secondary arrogance.

The fragment William is third-cast in sixth cadence; he is a member of greater cadence seven. William’s entity is four, cadre one, greater cadre 6, pod 208.

William’s essence twin is a scholar and he has a warrior task companion to whom he is married, Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge.

William’s primary needs are: exchange, freedom and security.

There are 6 past-life associations with Arvin and 3 with Merlin.

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Windsor, Catherine HRH Duchess of Cambridge 9/1/1982

Michael: This fragment is a fifth-level mature warrior – third life thereat. Catherine is in the perseveration mode with a goal of growth. A pragmatist, Catherine is in the moving part of intellectual centre.

Catherine’s body type is Saturn/Mercury/Venus.

Catherine’s primary chief feature is stubbornness and the secondary, arrogance.

The fragment Catherine is fourth-cast in the sixth cadence. Catherine is a member of greater cadence one. Catherine’s entity is four, cadre one, greater cadre 6 pod 208.

Catherine’s essence twin is a warrior and the task companion a scholar, her husband, HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge.

Catherine’s three primary needs are: expansion, power and expression.

There are 10 past-life associations with Arvin and 8 with Merlin. 

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Windsor, HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex 15/9/1984 London, England

Michael: This feisty fragment is a fifth-level mature warrior -– fourth life thereat – to his sixth-level mature brother, William. Henry is in the power mode with a goal of growth. A sceptic, he is in the moving part of intellectual centre.

Body type is Mars/Saturn.

Henry’s primary chief feature is arrogance and the secondary stubbornness.

The fragment Henry is first-cast in second cadence; he is a fragment of greater cadence three. Henry’s entity is one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418 – Henry is an entity mate of his paternal grandmother, HM Queen Elizabeth II.

Henry’s essence twin is a warrior and he has a scholar task companion.

Henry’s primary needs are: freedom, adventure and exchange.

There are 9 past-life associations with Arvin and 5 with Merlin.

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Windsor, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex 4/8/1981

Michael: This fragment is a mid-cycle mature artisan in the tradition of the deceased mother fragment who was Diana, Princess of Wales — third life thereat. Meghan is in the observation mode with a goal of acceptance. An idealist, Meghan is in the moving part of emotional centre.

Meghan’s body type is Venus/Solar.

Meghan’s primary chief feature is self-deprecation and the secondary of mild impatience.

The fragment Meghan is fourth-cast in the fifth cadence. Meghan is a member of greater cadence four. Meghan is a member of entity one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418 — she is an entity mate of both her spouse, HRH Prince Henry of Wales with whom she shares 20 past lives and also an obvious entity mate of Her Majesty, The Queen.

Meghan’s essence twin is an artisan and the task companion a warrior.

Meghan’s three primary needs are: expression, acceptance and expansion.

There are 4 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin.

Incidentally, this artisan has been a member of the British royal family twice before.

Firstly, as Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond and Derby, she was the cousin of King Henry VI and mother of King Henry VII. As such she was the matriarch of the House of Tudor. Her grandson was Henry VIII and her great-granddaughter, Elizabeth I.

This artisan in that lifetime was involved in the sacraments of the church being included in the newly established college system. She founded Christ College, Cambridge and was instrumental with the founding of St. John’s College as well.

Secondly, she was HRH Prince Edward, Duke of York and Albany and younger brother to George III, whose father the Prince of Wales, HRH Prince Frederick died before ascending the throne after George II. In that lifetime, the artisan (now Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex) was interested in military structure. He, of course, died young of a then unknown illness but which had to do with dysentery.

Incidentally, in the current incarnation, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex has suffered from gastroenteritis, which is related to the last-life health issues – this is the immediate past life and not that in 18^th century when the artisan died aged 28.

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Windsor, HM Queen Elizabeth II 21/4/1926 London, England

Michael: This fragment is third-level mature slave –- second life thereat. Elizabeth is in the perseveration mode with a goal of dominance. A realist, she is in the moving part of intellectual centre.

Body type is Venus/Lunar.

Elizabeth’s primary chief feature is stubbornness and the secondary self-deprecation.

The fragment Elizabeth is fourth-cast in fifth cadence; she is a fragment of greater cadence six. Elizabeth’s entity is one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418.

Elizabeth’s essence twin is a slave and the task companion is a priest.

Elizabeth’s three primary needs are: security, adventure and exchange.

There are 6 past-life associations with Arvin and 4 with Merlin.

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Mountbatten, Prince Philip HRH Duke of Edinburgh 10/6/1921 Greece

Michael: This fragment is fourth-level mature warrior – second life thereat. Philip is in the observation mode with a goal of preferred dominance. A sceptic, he is in the moving part of intellectual centre.

Body type is Saturn/Mars.

Philip’s primary chief feature is stubbornness – due to early death of a family member and the secondary subdued impatience.

The fragment Philip is seventh-cast in first cadence; he is a member of greater cadence six. Philip’s entity is one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 408.

Philip’s essence twin is a warrior and he has a scholar task companion who is known to him.

Philip’s primary needs are: exchange, acceptance and power.

There are 14 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin.

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Frances, Diana, Princess of Wales July 1/1961<O>August 31/1997.

Michael: The fragment who was Diana Frances is a second-level mature artisan and was in the passion mode with a goal of acceptance, a pragmatist in the moving part of emotional centre.

She had a Lunar/Mercury body type.

Diana’s primary chief feature was stubbornness with a secondary, not of self-destruction but of self-deprecation.

Diana Frances was first-cast in her cadence and her cadence is fifth in the greater cadence. She is a member of entity one, cadre six, greater cadre 48, pod/node 380.

This fragment’s essence twin is a discarnate artisan and her task companion is a discarnate sage, both of whom are staying near her, waiting for her to become oriented to her situation.

Here, we had an artisan with drama in her casting but also with a very deep need to serve both the common and the higher good, which she did with grace, charm and a good deal of conviction.

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Windsor, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales 14/11/48 London

Charles Windsor is a seventh-level mature second-cast warrior. Charles Windsor is in observation mode, with a goal of acceptance, and attitude of pragmatist, moving part of intellectual centre.

Charles’s body type is Mercury-Saturn.

Charles’ primary chief feature is stubbornness, secondary is self-deprecation.

He has an incarnate warrior essence twin with no plans to meet and a discarnate priest task companion, who exerts considerable influence on him.

His casting is virtually the same as Robert Bateman’s: entity two, cadre four, greater cadre 16, pod/node 404 but he is a second-cast in a fourth cadence, entity four, cadre four, greater cadre 16, pod/node 404.

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Windsor, Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall 17/7/1947 London, England

Michael: Yes, this scholar is at the mid-level of the mature soul cycle — third life thereat. Camilla is in caution mode with a goal of growth. A pragmatist, Camilla is in the moving part of intellectual centre.

Body type is Lunar/Venus.

Camilla‘s primary chief feature is impatience and the secondary arrogance.

The fragment Camilla is third-cast in sixth cadence; Camilla is a fragment of greater cadence seven. Camilla‘s entity is five, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 129.

Camilla’s essence twin is a scholar and the task companion is a warrior.

Camilla’s primary needs are: exchange, freedom and power.

There are 10 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin.

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Now for the esoteric Michaelese breakdown of what all this means. All told, there are 9 major players chosen here; of them warrior souls predominate with four such persons: Catherine, Henry, Philip and Charles. Two scholars: William and Camilla. Similarly, there are two artisans, Diana and Meghan. Lastly, there is but one slave, HM The Queen, who happens to have the strongest overleaves of them all. As HRH Prince William is the subject of this blog, I shall explore his overleaves lastly.

First and foremost, there are only two ways to approach all of life, either from a place of fear or a place of love. That having been said, there are both positive and negative poles of all overleaves. Similarly, just because an individual is an older soul does not mean that they are a more evolved human being and is all good. Of all these 9 royals, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales, is the oldest souled member with Diana, Princess of Wales having been the youngest soul among them. Bear in mind, too, that some of these persons are if not entity or cadre mates, at the very least are pod mates. I am going to go through these nine souls in order of soul age and though Charles is the oldest of the group, I will discuss William’s last even though he is the second oldest soul.

Diana: Second-level mature artisan; she lived the charmed life, great overleaves. She had the great goal of acceptance, which incidentally so too do William, Charles and Meghan. There was considerable Maya involved and she created a ton of drama out of sheer boredom and also as a way of fighting back when realising that she was in a loveless marriage and nothing but a pawn. No idea, if she is yet reincarnated.

HM The Queen: A third-level mature slave soul, she is on her second life at that level and is in dominance. This is as close to perfect and positively manifested the overleaves of anyone within that family or elsewhere. These are great overleaves, which are positively manifested.

Camilla: She is a mid-cycle mature scholar soul and a pragmatist in growth. This woman is a solid and as gracious a scholar as you can find. No surprise that she focusses on literary charities and organisations and hosts the annual Man Booker Prize awards. She is a scholar’s scholar and does not do drama. Camilla is another BRF (British Royal Family) member who gets it right and is manifesting in the positive pole of her overleaves like HM The Queen.

Meghan: Like Camilla, the Duchess of Sussex is also mid-cycle mature; however, like Diana, Princess of Wales she is an artisan. As is obvious from her overleaves, she chose to reincarnate to do something. Where she is is precisely where she is supposed to be. One does not end up with body-type of Venus-Solar and do nothing and does not become a major player on the global stage. Incidentally, usually only one life is passed at mid-cycle mature; it is a bridge lifetime between third mature and fourth mature and it is the only soul age where this occurs – there are exceptions to everything as this is Meghan’s soul’s third life as mid-cycle mature. At the end of fourth mature, more of the brain is used going forward and there is greater complexity to the persona. Meghan, having been Margaret Beaufort in a past life when she was the most pivotal Lancastrian woman during the War of the Roses, matriarch of the Tudor Dynasty, cousin of King Henry VI, mother of King Henry VII, beloved grandmother and mentor of King Henry VIII and great-grandmother to HM Queen Elizabeth I. Furthermore, Meghan is an entity mate of both HM The Queen and her husband HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex. They form a troika that is unshakeable. She is an idealist in acceptance; she will always be emotionally and empathetically open and mature. Sadly, though, the fact that this soul chose to be black in this lifetime has meant that she has become the most reviled black woman on the planet for having married into the BRF and its most loved prince. Incidentally, her husband, HRH Prince Henry was black in his immediate past life. Meghan’s primary chief feature is that of self-deprecation which is never attractive and this leaves her copping the shy smile routine and in particular placing her hand over her mouth. Your chief feature is a cactus never to be cradled… that said, this soul who as Margaret was first wedded before the age of two and had four husbands will be striking it out of the park in this lifetime again.

Philip: Fourth mature warrior in dominance, this is an equally solid soul as is his wife, HM The Queen. A warrior’s warrior to the core.

Henry: A fifth-level mature warrior; this man is the most interesting and underrated royal. First of all, at fifth-level mature, he is more complex than any of the other royals thus far; he is also a sceptic and the only other of the nine being the rather shrewd Prince Philip. This means that he is all 9 parts intellect, sees straight through everything and is able to think outside the box. Fifth-level is also synonymous with the goal of acceptance; therefore, this man will always have great appeal within a group dynamic. He is also thoroughly unpretentious and in growth. As a warrior, he inputs on one channel as do scholars and kings. Similarly, as a warrior, Henry will never forgive disloyalty of any kind; a betrayal of any kind is unforgivable.

Catherine: Like Henry, Catherine is not only also a warrior but she is also fifth-level mature. These two are rather simpatico and there is no way that they would never get along; there would be nothing but mutual respect and understanding. Fifth-level mature is also a time of incredible creativity, especially among warrior souls. Catherine also happens to be not just an entity mate of her husband’s but they are also task companions, which is as close a relationship at the level of soul that you can have as is possible. Task companions are like oxen sharing the same yoke; they get things done and Catherine also has a goal of growth like her brother-in-law, Henry but she is in perseveration mode. Catherine is all steel and will endure much and scale any mountain to get the job done. Admirable lady.

Charles: the fourth of the warriors, he is also the oldest soul of the senior royals. Dream encounters with this man are truly evolved. Naturally, as a seventh-level mature warrior issues of stewardship of the planet would be paramount among his concerns. He is also a warrior in acceptance and lives a life that is truly a positive expression of his overleaves. Kind and inclusive, he is understanding and truly accepting. Like every warrior there ever was, he does not forget or forgive disloyalty.

William: He is the second scholar soul and also the second oldest soul of the group. Sixth-level mature, William is at that all unforgiving sixth-level where those lives are all about paying back karma and having to work in the larger arenas of life and providing stewardship. William, born on the summer solstice, was also born with a stellium in his astrological chart which among other things means that he is prone to being very narrow in his focus; more importantly, it indicates someone who cannot see the forest for the trees when expressed negatively.

Though William has a goal of acceptance, he also has a chief feature – no chief feature is ever positive – of stubbornness, which means that he is rarely regardless of his perfected persona ever either at ease or accepting of anyone. Moreover, when a scholar is not in the positive pole of its role – as Camilla is – then that scholar will be an obstinate (stubbornness) negative and prejudicial (acceptance’s polar opposite rejection goal).

This is why it is almost 100% likely that William not only knew of HRH Princess Michael of Kent’s intention of wearing the blackamoor brooch to the 2017 Christmas Lunch at Buckingham Palace but he likely was the one to have sanctioned it. William is very close with Frederick who with his Jewish actor wife spend lots of time in Los Angeles where there is inordinate racial animus towards blacks.

Wearing the blackamoor brooch to HM The Queen’s Christmas Lunch was tantamount to wearing a swastika to said lunch the first year that Sophie Winkleman attended, knowing fully well that Lord Frederick Windsor’s wife is Jewish. The idea that somehow Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex is behind a rift between both princely brothers or is contentious with Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge – who as a warrior is more likely to be openly hostile towards Meghan than the other way around – couldn’t be further from the truth.

I think that it is safe to say that the Middletons have become rather high and mighty with themselves as evidenced when James Middleton was seen being socially hostile towards ITV’s royal correspondent, Tom Bradby outside St. George’s Chapel at the royal wedding of TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex.

Here are further examples of HRH Prince William being rejecting, obstinate and plain rude. William and not Meghan refused to have Sarah, Duchess of York attend his wedding. William and not Meghan sat in the Chapel at St. George’s Chapel and openly ridiculed Reverend Curry to his father, HRH Prince Charles. It was William and not Meghan who decided after the birth of HRH Prince George of Cambridge that the infant’s paternal grandparent would not be afforded access to his first grandchild. William rather than Meghan told Dave Clark that he was not desirable as a husband for his cousin, HRH Princess Beatrice, thereby putting an end to a relationship that was no business of his.

One of the most disarming things to know about HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge is that he is basically stupid and lacks awareness. This is how he always comes off in very lucid dream encounters. Furthermore, like all scholars in the negative pole of their soul/role, he is given to being discriminatory and readily judgmental. As a scholar with a chief feature of stubbornness, William is not given to being open to change and has an inordinately corrupted, almost delusional, sense of self. There is high conceit when dealing with this man. Indeed, he has taken his brother Henry, with an attitude of sceptic, none too seriously and definitely not as an equal; however, HRH Prince Henry does not – for being a sceptic – take this man too seriously nor does he take personally his hyper-inflated sense of self.

During their engagement interview, Catherine sat on the edge of the sofa; only once did they touch and it was her initiating. William during the interview self-congratulatorily referred to his great sense of humour – blind conceit. Catherine’s hair almost covers her eyes so that she can remain tunnelled in focus and not become overwhelm by William’s intimidating nature. Catherine’s mouth is pursed and turned down at the corners, betraying her discomfiture for being in William’s presence; this suggests an unpredictable nature and a violent temper. Frankly, Catherine looks as though she fully expects to be slapped at any moment and with some regularity.

Catherine as she appeared on entering Westminster Abbey and being greeted by the Dean of Westminster. Her smile is warm, relaxed and she radiates her inner beauty; indeed, it is uneclipsed.

Catherine, now in the presence of William becomes clenched, clipped and her radiance lacks its lustre. All this because of the unpredictable nature of the man she is about to marry. This very man is also her task companion; however, his perfectly good overleaves have become corrupted and are not positively expressed in the least.

William the none-too-bright finally figures out how to properly fasten his gloves.

William enters the carriage and sits with his back to the horses drawing the carriage; he had even looked back over his shoulder to the horses, yet still sat down in the improper position in the carriage.

William in this photograph has now changed seats after having been instructed to do so by the footman, wearing the white-plumed hat; the footman did so under his breath.

In this shot, after having told William to properly sit, facing the front and not the back of the carriage, the footman could be seen looking at Pippa Middleton and she looks at him with a knowing and dismissive look and smile. This interchange between both the footman and Pippa indicates that it is common knowledge by those in the know that William basically is stupid.

A keenly observant HRH Prince Henry on entering Westminster Abbey with his older brother on the day of William’s wedding. This is the look of someone with an attitude of sceptic. He knows that he has to hang back and take everything with a grain of salt as basically, his brother William is dense and unaware.

While being hosted by the dean of Westminster, Henry ventures a comment and like a scholar in stubbornness and who has been groomed to always be deferred to, William in essence tells his brother to shut up with a dismissive remark. At all times, like a person in stubbornness, William’s body language is rigid and controlling with his hands ever clasped, the same few remarks and the same loud vacuous laughter and of course that ever present smile that is evocative of his mother Diana, Princess of Wales.

Scholars in the negative pole of their role/soul can be the biggest bores; ever, they are a font of useless information and often unsolicited. Here the newlyweds ride up the Mall to Buckingham Place; at least three times on the ride from Westminster Abbey William became impatient with Catherine and they rowed. Here, he is shouting at her and telling her to be observant; she like the warrior she is, anywhere and anytime, she will sound off and protest without so much as thinking twice. Love her!

Do not be fooled by Catherine’s smile; he is grilling her and she is fighting back. This, of course, is a healthy part of their relationship as long-term lovers and also for that matter for being task companions.

After the harsh words, naturally, William was a sulky petulant bore. Warrior to the core, Catherine leans in and nudges him with her left shoulder and gets him to get out of his funk. Catherine is one of the strongest royal women going.

Once on the balcony, William becomes a right bore with the endless drivelfest of observations. On more than one occasion, one captured above, Catherine simply dismisses the ennui that is William by pointing instead towards the Canada Gates whilst he was directing her to look down the mall towards the approaching planes taking part in the flypast. And at all times, Catherine maintains equilibrium with that Cheshire cat grin.

William simply assumes because he is destined to be king and is never challenged, he could do as he pleases and attack his brother’s lover without there being the slightest repercussions.

Newly engaged, Henry and Meghan openly displaying their love for each other and both possessed of emotional intelligence that speaks to their reincarnational history, their being entity mates and the fact that as a yogi who has mastered the kamsutra, Henry is a happy camper. Xerxes, a seventh-level mature warrior friend sums up the warrior’s motto thusly: feed me, fuck me but do not annoy me.

Here, Henry on taking his vows and slipping the ring on Meghan’s finger with the most sexually suggestive intimacy, then winks at her. This is a couple completely and thoroughly besotted, in love and passionately consumed with each other.

Now there is a happy warrior; Henry deplanes when on first tour of the Commonwealth with his serenely pregnant wife, whilst sporting a chubby.

William, who is inordinately so a control freak, is threatened by his brother’s wife who is not a controlled, plus one and subservient wife. Meghan has style and is not a blank foil to allow the blood royal spouse and only the blood royal spouse to shine at all times. I don’t, though, agree with Meghan’s inability to strictly follow royal protocol and walk behind her blood royal spouse.

Henry made sure to have a wife who would be for him what his father never was for his mother; a lover, companion and equal team member. Meghan is forthright, articulate. Like every artisan soul, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex inputs on five channels (the most of all the seven soul types) which means she can evoke mood and inject that certain “je ne sais quoi” into what she wears. Artisans are said to be atmospheric; just slipping into an item of clothing and it is as though we shift personae and become as well as project the right mood into the environment. Artisans are atmospheric; we set the mood by just being.

Most of all, this appearance by Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex at the 2018 British Fashion Awards is why William fears her. Hatred is nothing but fear and to be obstinate and conspire with the Kents for Frederick Windsor’s mother to wear the blackamoor brooch only points to how much William fears his brother’s wife; to fear someone is to readily reveal how miserably you have no power over that someone. Onto that stage, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex walked and had the room in the palm of her hand. William knows that Catherine his wife could never have that command of an audience; what’s more, Catherine is a whimpering mousy little thing as compared to eloquent, confident trained thespian, Meghan.

In the 21st century, Brand Windsor needs an ambassador who is media savvy and can walk out onto a stage and deliver like only Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex does. That awards ceremony at Royal Albert Hall would have been a room with more than 60 per cent artisan souls whereas artisans make up 22 percent of the population of souls cosmically. In Meghan, the fashion worlds of couture, design and jewellery have one of their own – she is akin to a patron saint. This was the same effect that Diana, Princess of Wales also had for being an artisan soul.

In Meghan, William is having to endure some self-karmic issues; you own no one and cannot push around anyone as you please. Thus far, he has irreparably damaged his relations with two strong warriors – his father and brother. Long before Meghan arrived he had sabotaged his relationship with Charles for not approving of Camilla, blaming his father for his mother’s death and denying his father access to his first grandchild. With regards Henry, he has done Meghan a big favour for with his open animus and hideous bigotry vis-à-vis the blackamoor incident, William has lost Henry’s trust and it will only forge the love and loyalty between him and Meghan.

Thus far, William and his family have twice been to Canada on royal tours; they have also been to the U.S., Singapore, Australia, New Zealand and the Pacific Commonwealth nations and India; however, William and his family have yet to set foot in a predominantly black Commonwealth nation. There are no coincidences. Persons in stubbornness are the most difficult people to deal with as they are pigheaded in the extreme and relish being difficult. As he clearly has no interest in being on tour in a predominantly black Commonwealth nation, this is why TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex were appointed as Commonwealth Youth Ambassadors. Far be it for William to become Sovereign where more than half the countries in the Commonwealth are peopled by blacks. As ever, tabloid media will blame Meghan the unsuitable black woman for the rift; truly, one need look no further than William, who is not in the positive pole of acceptance; rather he is in the negative pole of its opposite, rejection, which makes for the scarf incident, the blackamoor incident and all the other deplorable things he’s gotten up to: Sarah not at his wedding, Charles having little to no access to newborn George, froideur towards Camilla and now Meghan. Too bad for his scheming, though, because within a year of marriage, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex will be mother to a royal child which further solidifies her staying power.

As ever, don’t let fear and chief feature get the better of you as so clearly it has HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge. Just straighten up and fly right… especially when lucidly awakened in the dreamtime. For your ongoing support, I am inordinately grateful. Happy New Year and here’s to the very best in 2019.

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Diana’s Resolve… Extra-Human Tall Whites Arrive.

21.11.201404.12.2024 Arvin da Brgha1 Comment

One of the last dreams I would have, before moving to Montréal from Vancouver, would be a most ominous dream of Diana, Princess of Wales. At the time, my life was in flux as I hurriedly packed up my art collection and made preparations to fly out of Vancouver to Montréal.

As Pandora da Braga had lived in Paris for ten years, after having worked in the Prime Minister’s Office – Prime Minister, John Turner – studying then working as a journalist in the city of lights, I would make wonderful friends of my own in Paris.

Naturally, they all implored me to move to Montréal because they could then visit me and not have to worry about not speaking English. Of course, if you can’t live in Paris, Montréal will make a damn good substitute – the locals’ hideous xenophobia notwithstanding.

To say the least, I was only too happy to take flight from Vancouver which had proven a racially suffocating hellhole once too many for my legendary impatience… to say nothing of pride and integrity. Since I am not in the world to suffer the racial predator overlong, it was time to move on when I chose to. Knowing when to take leave is key to survival in any situation.

The astral plane dream encounter with Diana, Princess of Wales was inordinately lucid and possessed of a clarity that spoke to its prophetic potency. Of course, on awaking from the dream, I had completely misread the message of the dynamic being played out. At the time of the dream and on awaking, I had assumed the subject of ominous prophecy to be Prince William rather than Diana, Princess of Wales herself.

The dream proved rather sobering. The evening when the news broke of Diana, Princess of Wales’s death, I stood in my Montréal living room and screamed horrified because in that moment I had finally gotten whom the subject the prophetic dream was; it was Diana, Princess of Wales.

There was the same density and foreboding in this dream as in all dreams which presage death. There was no mistaking the ambiance of the dream; death palpably hung in the air.

At the time, it was Sunday, July 27, 1997 and whilst the Moon then transited both Taurus and my twelfth house, I did nothing more than pack and run off to Stanley Park after dark to get one more last session of hot sex in the midst of five-hundred-year-old moss-furred Sitkas.

Oh what delicious fun times! Nothing beats having sex in the middle of nature; it is so primal, so spiritual, so shamanic and elemental.

The dream was a beautiful farewell from Diana, Princess of Wales. I am sure that she would be immensely proud of how Prince William has fared since she bade him fare well in that dream.

Sweet dreams as ever.

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Pandora da Braga and I visited with Diana, Princess of Wales, at night-time, in this the first dream. I spoke to her of her great insights to world politics.

As well, I told her of how much she had learnt in this lifetime – the great insights garnered from her experiential awareness of human suffering and the human condition.

This woman was incredibly powerful in this astral plane encounter.

You had a sense of her very soul itself being present in her body. As this was an astral plane encounter, one was not experiencing Diana, Princess of Wales the glamour puss, the manipulative or, for that matter, the fucked-up basket case.

You saw the power behind the incarnate persona and understood why she was born to be Diana, Princess of Wales. All that emotional baggage ultimately was mere façade. This was a very steely tough customer.

Her eyes were always very direct and clear; they were not soft and dewy or doing the virgin bride Diana Spencer routine. She wore a powder blue suit and was in supreme control.

She then went to a near dark bedroom to check on Prince William, the future Duke of Cambridge. The heir apparent was lying in bed, foetally curled up whilst soundly asleep.

He looked so tiny and so frail and vulnerable that one had to wonder if he were an asthmatic or suffered from seizures. Even though asleep, Prince William seemed emotionally needy.

I was much reminded of Clarice Seberg-da Braga^† in this woman’s resolute steeliness. I stood a few feet away whilst Diana, Princess of Wales stood leaning over the side of the bed next to her sleeping firstborn, Prince William.

The energies here were those of a retirement home or an orphanage. The vibration here was both dense and very sad; it was a most sombre ambiance here. I even passingly wondered if Prince William were in danger of dying.

When I spoke to her, she had said nothing and seemed remote, removed and otherly focussed. However, she was undividedly listening to me. Her focus was intense, with a singleness of purpose that was so unlike her incarnate persona, it was hard to believe that she could have become so legendarily emotionally fucked-up.

For being in this woman’s presence, one realised that this individual has seen a lot. By far, much more than mere mortals see in the course of three or four lifetimes has she.

Her energies surprised me as they were massive. One had to exactly wonder who she has been in past lives. I had a sense of her that she was an early mature soul.

*This would indeed prove a rather prophetic dream. I remember been so upset at this dream that on awaking, I went and looked up Prince William, Duke of Cambridge’s astrological chart to see if there were any indicators that he could possibly die early in life or imminently.

So ravishing was Diana, Princess of Wales that it never occurred to me at the time of the dream or on awaking, to have looked at her chart to see if there were any signs of her possibly dying imminently. Of course, there in her chart was a very ominously looming Pluto square transit which went exact the day she died.

I might also add that it is an afflicted Pluto which is conjunct her natal Mars. Think what you want but there is no way that Diana, Princess of Wales was not assassinated.

She was, in the dream, clearly resigned to her fate. She was obviously aware of her role in the historical drama being played out and she, finally, fulfilled her role with great aplomb. END.

**Of course, at the time when living in Vancouver, where the dream was dreamt, I had attended a dinner party at friends’ Sentinel Hill bungalow where a gay South African of British aristocratic heritage spoke at length about Charles and Diana and their ‘child’. Said he, Harry was not the child born out of wedlock – the second born was a real Windsor prince. The real bastard had been her firstborn which meant a lot, especially since the Bourbon father was Catholic – little else was then divulged. This was in late 1995 – with Nelson Mandela coming to power, he like many whites fled South Africa with a sizeable colony settling in the lower mainland – when Charles and Diana clearly were headed for divorce. That dinner party was the second time that I had heard this rumour about Diana’s sons.

A couple of years earlier, after I broke off relations with Manhattan cabaret singer Frans Bloem as a dinner guest of his proved a vile racist Jew, who vehemently denied that Blacks had any connection, let alone claim, to Jazz. I promptly decamped for the rest of my vacation from Frans’ West Village apartment to Chelsea with an old dancer friend, whose lover had died of AIDS and left him fabulously well-off. One evening, we went to a dinner party on the Upper West Side where the view across Central Park was to the condo where Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis would die short months later. Present at the lovely dinner of a wealthy Mexican, whose home was truly grand, was a Spanish aristocrat; he spoke at great length of Diana and Charles – it was the time of their recent separation. The minor Bourbon royal was keen to let it be known that Juan Carlos, the King, was William’s father and not Charles. This he said with great pride and who knows, added he, maybe one day the Church of Rome would reclaim Westminster Abbey and Britain become annexed to Spain. END.

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Then, in this the second dream, I entered a film which advanced back in time. I was taken back to the beginning of my reincarnational cycle here on Earth. That is to say that for my soul’s experience here on Earth, it was the beginning of time.

There were lots of heavy-looking satellites here. As a result, the celestial lights are strange as compared to contemporary times. There was a sense of purple intensely coming through from the light spectrum.

Too, blue came through strongly here rather than the intense ‘white’ with which we are so accustomed. A very interesting phenomenon this was.

This was a very rocky terrain as I stood looking down to a spectacular vista below. Next, there was a mass influx of people who came from another planet.

There had been a mass exodus to Earth. The arrivée extra-human’s spaceships were not all that sophisticated comparable to today’s space shuttles. When they disembarked, they were an unusually tall race of Whites.

They averaged over seven feet each, on the short side, pushing nine feet; even the women were in excess of seven feet tall. They were a shabbily dressed group. Too, they looked truly shell-shocked; it was as though they had had to take flight in a hurry.

Seemingly, there had been a massive apocalyptic crisis which had precipitated their sudden departure. As a result, they had ventured here to take up residence on Earth. They seemed as if refugees from a war zone.

They were, the whole group of them, quite a mess. Immediately, they set about on a campaign to subjugate the planet and make it theirs. Theirs was a focus that was driven of their having been from elsewhere.

This was hostile territory that had to be tamed and made to order; the new planet, Earth, had to support their agenda and nothing more. This was the beginning of a reign of terror which clearly endures to this age.

They had a series of rulers, who came with the mass exodus, all of whom were male. They were a militaristic culture. They were the quintessential warrior warlords; brutish and sadistic to the core were they. They had no qualms about killing.

They couldn’t have cared less, after all, about the people whom they were killing; after all, they were all merely humans and not of their extra-human race.

They were brutish specimens, the hunter-warrior extra-humans, with thick full beards. These were a people who had known nothing but a long history of warfare. They were bred to be killers. Truth be told, they were deadly and at war with life itself.

Alas, it was a sad but true fact and one that was rather insightful as to the real deal behind history of this planet. As life on Earth ultimately proved a non-viable long range proposition, they elected to adapt to Earth by breeding with select humans.

The group which proved, in the long term to be most viable for their genetic stock to endure and prosper would become today’s Caucasians. As a result, the hybridised Earthly humans became as if at war with themselves. Incidentally, all the racial groups were hybridised; however, what would become Caucasians were deemed most desirable.

I have always thought it very interesting that the all-dominant White tribe is home to Europe, the only continent on the planet where the inhabitants never constructed pyramids. They, pyramids, are in Africa, the Americas and Asia but not to be found in Europe.

These people were truly Hitlerian in their savagery. I could see how easy it was for the true Earthlings to have been subjected by these people.

The locals were a peaceful people who lived close to and in accord with nature – that included the pre-hybridised Caucasians. Then along came this exodus of Tall White extra-humans who proceeded to subject both them and nature.

This seemed to have, perhaps, been in New Zealand but it was obvious from what I learnt here that the invading Whites had touched down in several locales on the planet.

Theirs was an agendum whose task demanded timely action over a given breath of time. They were intent on suppressing the Earthlings, all over the planet. When their extra-human stock began dying out, they then elected to hybridise the native humans of Earth.

Obviously, at the end of this campaign, they would then choose to settle in Europe. What was really telling in all of this was the fact that all of life in the Universe is cyclical.

To that end, we see history being repeated in modern times with the campaign begun by Christopher Columbus. There is nothing ennobling or uplifting about this European exodus which, as per the panorama I witnessed, mirrored the campaign of the Tall White extra-humans on their arrival to Earth. Though less savage, the strong Tall White extra-human genetic markers in Caucasians has affected their outlook on being focussed here on Earth.

As a result, the hybridised Caucasians humans’ raison d’être has been about warfare, rape and separatism. Notice, too, that until the rise of Judaism, there were no patriarchal religions on this planet. Religions weren’t of any use, prior to the arrival of the Tall White extra-humans, as all the people of Earth were living in accord with nature.

Too, the rise of Judaism marked the ascent of the notion of a single god and, most of all, one which was vengeful, warring and decidedly patriarchal. Like the orthodoxy of Judaism, it was anathema to the arriving extra-human Tall Whites to mix or cohabit with the true Earthlings – at least until their long term survival proved impossible.

That aside, the extra-human Tall Whites went about suppressing the planet. They did so in a reign of terror that was truly horrific. They murdered and savaged the Earthlings with ferocity that one would a species which was not one’s own.

The Earthlings were being killed as though they were an infestation of vermin who had to be culled and controlled. This they did in their campaign to make the planet viable for their extra-human Tall White stock.

So very telling as this is precisely the repeated/mirrored history which we are living today. A history, indeed, in which the White Tribe has spread over the planet in the last half millennium, displacing the local Earthlings in their path. Sadly, so dominant is the Tall White extra-human genetic makeup in hybridised Caucasians, it has been as though their fellow humans were not also human.

This has being most actively pursued in Africa at present which thanks to racism makes it permissible. Truly horrific a spectacle this proved. Devastating were the campaign’s results, to say the least, on the locals then as now.

*I must note here, though, that the original Tall Whites were little related to today’s Whites. Not only were they close to nine feet tall, if not more, they were pasty to grey-white in colour.

In the true sense of the word, they were Tall Whites rather than Caucasians. END.

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When planning to go to a movie, in this the third dream, I had asked Ian Banks Jr. if he would accompany me. Flatly, he replied no.

The look on his face was truly hostile as if to ask if I were out of my mind to have asked him. I was very stunned, in fact, by his reaction.

In any event, I readily recovered and went off looking for a seat in the theatre. I ended up close to a White couple with three small kids.

The children were talkative but there was nothing objectionable in their behaviour. I actually quite liked being near them with their refreshing playfulness and spontaneity.

As the house lights went down and everyone grew quietly anticipatory, I seamlessly refocussed from the dreamtime to the waking state.

*On awaking, I felt exhausted from the travel involved in moving back in time to seeing and experiencing the arrival of the Tall White extra-humans. I took the time to remain in the pyramid, after having recorded the dreams, to meditate with crystals and thereby restore my energies. END.

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Photo/Art: HRH Diana, Princess of Wales

Oil on Canvas

64 x 40 Inches

Provenance: Collection of Charles, Ninth Earl of Spencer.

http://www.spencerofalthorp.com/

http://www.nelsonshanks.com/

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Merlin.

17.11.201404.12.2024 Arvin da BrghaLeave a comment

Merlin.

July 21, 1947 <O> November 18, 1989

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I could never have imagined surviving Merlin by 25 years. More than that, I could never have fathomed how immensely enriched I would grow for having known and loved Merlin. Certainly, I would never have imagined that our relationship would continue, merely otherly focussed, beyond his passing. However, as many dreams herein have attested that we most definitely did and have.

I offer the links to three dreams had after Merlin’s passing – all of which are to be found in the ‘Dreams of Merlin’ category. The first dream occurred as Merlin passed, the other two dreams three and four years after his passing. Do enjoy and I trust that for your own loved ones, these dreams will inspire you to remain open and focussed on being attuned and ever in love with loved ones when they transition to merely being at a different vibration as astral plane habitués.

Incidentally, Merlin was reincarnated on December 2, 2006 as a first level old scholar in an old soul northern European country’s capital city. Merlin’s soul has chosen in this lifetime to be female and yes, I have dreamt of this beautiful-eyed young woman. Love ever endures.

These dreams, without a doubt, attest to Merlin and I having shared a most remarkable love affair. All is choice. Sweet dreams and love you and your loved ones even more!

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Photo: Merlin 1977 in Montréal.

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Happy Birthday!

01.08.201404.12.2024 Arvin da BrghaLeave a comment

My birthday, August 2, 1989.

Last birthday celebration with Merlin before his passing 3 months later. I am wearing the presents afforded me by one of Merlin’s friends – a disturbed woman whose perception of me was just that… hers. So as she took my picture – which I later learnt, so that she could show it to Merlin’s mother, Sybil, and claim, “See, who said pigs don’t wear lipstick?” – I, possessed of the most well-endowed pineal gland, looked straight through her and her insignificance to Merlin who stood in back of her beaming his pride, love and joy at having found me and as he said later at dinner in Yorkville, he wouldn’t miss being here for the most happening moment in the universe.

Silly woman; so sad, parading through life without so much as a clue that the better bitches on this planet wear their sex between the ears. Well, as Merlin’s friend, the actor, Joe Morton – he of the John Sayles film, ‘Brother From Another Planet’ and who currently stars in TV’s Scandal; so I am told because I never look at television – passionately intoned, “Don’t you ever forget this, if you were White and a woman, you would never be treated this way.”

When it came to friends, Merlin’s choices could have been more discriminating; however, when it came to lovers, he never set a foot wrong. All the lovers who preceded me were stellar, spiritually evolved human beings and I am proud to have been included in their company; prouder still am I to have been enraptured for seven glorious years with the one, the man, the shaman, the dream shaman, Merlin and my task companion no less. For me, there can be no greater gift each birthday than celebrating the love we shared.

Birthdays are a time for giving thanks and for your support and loyalty I am immensely grateful.

Sweet dreams, if I have inspired just one person to look inward and embrace their spiritual journey through becoming more self-aware when dreaming, I will have accomplished much indeed. I love you more!

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=^.|.^=

Remembering Merlin.

17.11.201313.11.2024 Arvin da Brgha1 Comment

Merlin passed 24 years ago on November 18, 1989.

As a celebration of Merlin’s inordinately ennobled life, I have created a new category entitled: Dreams of Merlin. The dreams in that category centrally feature Merlin – a most magical elfin fellow.

Merlin and I met, four years after I first dreamt of him, on Friday, October 1, 1982 in New York City.

Merlin was the godson of the actor, Lorne Greene, he loved: parrots, Glenn Gould, J. S. Bach, bandannas, musicals, magic, patchouli, reading several books simultaneously; one of which he concluded each night at bedtime at which point, he would share the book’s contents. Merlin was a great raconteur, a devastatingly funny mimic which most persons who knew him did not know as he only ever engaged this aspect of his persona at bedtime, after reading, he loved cats, wore a cowl whilst smoking weed and conceptualising how to direct a new play and pacing about our home at 20 Amelia Street, Toronto – which alas you can now see on Google street view – incidentally the black wrought iron fencing in the photo was begun by the neighbour at 18 Amelia Street – a fashion designer of note who was a snob and bore who took to sending us registered letters complaining about our ‘wild’ cats using his maple tree as a scratching post. Though Merlin’s registered responses were wickedly funny and penned by Julio, the only male of our four cats, as my bullshit threshold is readily engaged, I went one better and instead of mailing off the fourth registered response from Julio – hysterical though it was – got a five-pound bag of catnip from the Menagerie Pet Store around the Corner on Parliament Street – it is still there – and proceeded to sprinkle it on said snobbish bore’s lawn over several days… as intended, our then three cats and several in the neighbourhood fast-descended on his lawn wigging out, however, sure enough, they began pooping in the garden and on the lawn… soon the sprinkler system of said snobbish bore’s lawn and garden was kept on all hours of the day to ward off this sudden descent of cats to the prized lawn… alas, the sod was eventually replaced and a silly little fence erected, as though that could ever deter cats… of course, over time, the neighbours along the block would get matching black wrought iron fencing because, well, that’s what genteel burghers will do.

Merlin died on his mother’s birthday and she, in turn, would die on the anniversary of the day we met – 22 years after his passing.

Merlin was/is a seven level mature scholar soul; and the life when we were lovers for seven years in fin-de-siècle New York City and Toronto was his sixth life at 7 level mature and our 43rd life together. That high incidence of lives passed together was because Merlin and I were/are Task Companions; it also explains why the dreams shared herein of Merlin and me are possessed of such heightened telepathy, love, communion and lucid realism.

Of course, our disparate races meant that some persons in Merlin’s life thought it unacceptable that Merlin should be with me; indeed, one such person – nothing more than a lost village idiot and a clown to boot – as Merlin privately referred to her – made it her campaign to evict me from Merlin’s life… indeed, those who know nothing of love can act no better and they certainly know nothing of dreams; for dreams are the fruits that a great love affair bears, which is readily validated by the dreams of Merlin and me herein, long after his passing.

Of course, as disparate as Merlin and I may have seemed we were more bonded than was readily discernible. Apart from the essence bond of being task companions – à la Michael Teachings – Merlin and I were also bonded in a way which he had hinted at. It was a year prior to his passing and I had been to my father, Isadore’s, for dinner. On my return home that evening, I brought a copy of a famous family portrait of my mother, Harella, and her family. Merlin was quite taken by my maternal grandfather’s bushy browed, moustachioed handsomeness and declared, “Are you sure about that Portuguese blood? He looks just like a darker version of Yitzhak Shamir.”

Long years after Merlin’s passing and just after Isadore’s, in 2008, I would learn that the Portuguese blood to which my family is connected is by way of both Harella’s paternal grandparents having been of Sephardi heritage, along with her maternal grandmother. Nevis, on which I was born, grew one staple, cotton, during colonial times. That cotton was prized and the Sephardi were a small colony from not Portugal but Brazil. Harella’s paternal grandmother was a Levine though it was mispronounced over time as Lavigne, after all, St. Kitts next-door was both French and English with some French families still present, and the tiny Sephardi community were referred to as the Portuguese. Harella’s paternal grandfather, Claude Sr., was of mixed blood his paternal grandfather having been Sephardi who parented children with a freed slave of African descent… one peculiarity of Nevis – which Canadians are wont to mispronounce as nay-vis or névis it is more appropriately knee-vis – is that it is the only Island in the Caribbean where slaves were allowed to own land and will it to their descendants thus making them freed slaves – odd peculiarity that – and it was a condition of the ‘Portuguese’ electing to relocate there and trade the prized Nevis cotton to both London and New York City. So, Merlin’s suspicions and intuition, as ever, proved spot-on.

Here’s to life. Here’s to lovers. Here’s to Merlin, a lover like no other: magical, charming, witty, sexy as all hell with the largest most hypnotically beautiful eyes, dream shaman, dream companion, über-sapiosexual…

**Since this post was created on the eve of Merlin’s passing’s anniversary in 2013, I have learnt that Merlin’s reincarnated. He was reborn female in a Northern European city on December 2, 2006. Merlin also is living the first lifetime as a first level old soul.

Clearly, Merlin was able to grow from 7th level mature to 1st level old thanks to the spiritual work we undertook as task companions after his passing through the conduit of the dreamtime. All of this is, of course, readily validated by many of the dreams shared in this blog of Merlin and me after his passing.

2/12/2006 = 2.3.2 = 7. Great numerology for the reincarnated Merlin and that twoness – like my current incarnation assures her a life of being creatively focussed and a definite intellectual. Marvellous.

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Photo: Merlin in the 1970s.

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Astral Plane Life Review.

10.03.201323.10.2024 Arvin da Brgha3 Comments

As if a testament to the bucolic splendour that we shared, this next dream occurred on Thursday, January 13, 1994. At the time, the Moon transited Aquarius and my ninth house. There were so many of our personal truths being validated in this dream.

Here in this quiet moment, Merlin and I found each other. Magically, we were able to squinge up and become lost in intimacy soul-to-soul.

Certainly being thus engaged with another human being, always afforded one the ability to escape the ubiquitous dreck of racial animus, which is never far off when one happens to be a Black male.

So very good it was to have found, from within the dreamtime, the magus Merlin. Though he seemed in that initial dream – in 1978 – to be of points unknown, Merlin would prove my elfin-dream magus extraordinaire.

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I found myself in a house at night time. Who should I be there with me but Merlin? On seeing each other we lit up; we both greeted the other quite warmly.

He looked up at me and winked, at which point, I went and joined him as he sat on a large sofa-bed. Sublime… A very comfortable seat it was, too.

This was a beautifully crowded home with lots of furniture everywhere. This was also a work area. I had been busily writing at the time.

On joining him – he had called me over – I went over and cuddled up in his arms. Merlin’s arms were protectively wrapped about my enraptured body.

Then Merlin did the most sensual thing, he began kissing me in my left ear. Instantaneously his wet, soft, warm tongue made quivering labia of my lobe. I can’t now recall having experienced such quiet intimacy in ages.

In what was so obviously a study, all about the room were shelves crammed with books, books and more books. In the foreground was a large writing desk. There, I had been doing a great deal of research pouring through several books.

Pulling away, I had looked directly in the eyes at him and was so very aware that this was a dream with the dream magus and said,

“Merlin, I’m so glad that we had that time together – those seven years together…”

This was one of the most real and intense dreams that I have ever had, to date, in this lifetime. Until having this dream encounter with Merlin, I would have argued that this degree of realism and intensity of focus in the dreamtime were not possible.

Clearly, this was a very potent astral plane encounter between Merlin and me at the level of soul. This is also the one dream, since Merlin’s passing, in which both he and I have been so directly communicative on several levels.

Never before had we done so much speaking, one to the other, by actually using words. We were deeply conversational. Our eye contact, as well, was more intense and unwavering than before it has ever been.

As a matter of fact, I would even go so far as to say that our eye contact, during this rather lucid dream, was more intense and sustained than at any point whilst he was incarnate. It was truly sublime.

Though we did not have sex – which rarely we ever did in the waking state – there was a great deal of physical intimacy between us. Goodness, I could smell the warm familiarity of Merlin, as though he had just returned from a theatre gig that had kept us apart by some six or more weeks.

Rather than jeans, Merlin wore a white pair of cotton slacks. His favourite maroon-coloured pullover, he wore. To feel the familiarity of his sexy elfin body was more poetic than had we been together in the waking state.

As Merlin made love to my left ear, the feel of his beard was more ticklishly orgasmic than if I were female-sexed and he were deep inside my warm, moist, surrendered depths – so utterly sublime was our intimacy here.

As he held me, lovingly rubbing my body, I told him over and over how very beautiful it was to have known him,

“I’m so glad that we had those seven years together…” I repeated.

“…We did so much… accomplished so much together…”

“Oh, I know my darling. I know…” said Merlin hugging me even more tightly as he whispered almost absently deep into me,

“…And you don’t realise how much it is…”

“Of course, I know. It really does do a great deal of work, for all time. I mean, had we not had it and gone through what you did at the end with me having abandoned you, everything would have turned out so differently…”

“Oh I know, my dear. And don’t you worry. Everything is going to turn out right in the end. Don’t worry. I know that…”

Merlin was very reassuring, soothing, calming and confident. After we rested a while, I said to him in passing,

“You know, I really ought to get up and get back to my work here…”

“No, no, no. You mean you’re still into all that clap-trap…”

I couldn’t believe what he had just said and became convulsive with laughter, all the while stomping my feet, my hands lazily clapping for joy. He then began tickling me.

Merlin was so very playful, at which point, he allowed me to recover and I said to him,

“You know Merlin, it’s only the other day that I was thinking to myself that I’ve almost forgotten so many of the little things that you used to say…”

I told him that, in the waking state, I had been reading through some notes and my diaries from the time of his illness and death. I was amazed at what a clear sketch they painted of his idiosyncrasies.

Now so many years later, I had completely forgotten many of these gems but for the fact that they exist as notes, here and there, recorded at the time.

He told me that he knew what I meant but then dismissed it all as not being the important thing, adding,

“…however, you still have the essence though…”

“Yet it’s so important. All those little things keep the portrait in focus. Until you just said that, and I was reminded of how teasing and playful you were, I’d have been totally at a lost to have remembered something like that.

“That you were so teasing and perpetually made fun of my spiritual approach, does bring back how much it used to hurt…”

“Oh I know. However, you know that I was only ever just kidding?”

“Of course, I did, at least now I do but at the time it was part of the fun and rivalry of the dynamic. It was so good what we had…”

“Yes, I know…” He absently said this as if an afterthought to himself.

With that, we fell silent whilst I collapsed more liquidly into his arms. There was nothing but stillness of the greatest order. There was nothing but intimacy as we touched soul-to-soul.

From those rare moments, I now have no recall of what transpired afterwards between us. I have no idea to where the dream matured from that point.

For, at the time, I was ecstatic, enraptured, in love. Truth be told, I was flying without moving. Truly no poetry more sublime could our souls have woven than the beauty which was this dream.

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Photo: Stately study.

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Ghosts of Future-Past.

10.03.201323.10.2024 Arvin da Brgha1 Comment

I found myself hovering over Times Square. I was intently looking at a hotel in Times Square – the one that has the large oxidised globe on it. I thought – this may be the Drake Hotel.

The building, at its upper storeys, had aspects of a pyramid or a ziggurat to it. This was one of those monolithic sandstone buildings that were built in the 1930s – a decade when there was a real architectural renaissance in Manhattan.

It had a very large base that culminated in a stepped formation near the top. The building sat on the west side of Eight Avenue, if I correctly remember.

Perhaps, it is not even a hotel – I thought, maybe, it is the headquarters for one of the city’s newspapers – with the globe at its zenith. So, perhaps, it formerly housed or still does The New York Times. After all, it is in Times Square – hence the name of the square.

After having hovered for awhile, I began to move very slowly; I was high up – several storeys high up. I watched as the ubiquitous yellow vehicles of the city’s taxi fleet, way below, negotiated the congested traffic. I was able to see beyond the usual as well.

I saw Carl Leroiderien† going to pick up tickets for a Broadway show. He was walking past the stage door; he was going towards the front of house.

There was something about this man which I found rather sagely. Soon, he passed out of view; he went off to see someone. He stood out like a sore thumb.

I knew well enough not to come down. Carl has never had any interest in me, save to be aggressive and socially hostile, so why bother? He was off to be in his element because basking in the glow of the klieg lights was what his soul craved at the moment.

However, when Carl was leaving his Chelsea apartment, I saw him talking to Merlin. I still hovered in the air outside a front window that faced Carl’s fire-escape.

“No, no. I sent those manuscripts for you and you can just go over them,” he was saying to Merlin as he returned some of Merlin’s writings.

Carl, arrogant prick that he is, was insensitively dismissing Merlin’s writing by returning it. Of course, he did so under the guise of being too occupied to read the manuscripts.

I could tell from Merlin’s tone that he was really hurt for having his creativity dismissed. Merlin felt rejected. Carl was a disingenuous schmuck.

Carl’s offhandedness with Merlin was obnoxious. Clearly, he did not think that Merlin’s writing was worth his time but – platinum-tongued palaverist that he is – he also did not give an opinion of what he thought.

Carl had cleverly placed the writing into a small trunk, which had languished in the Bourbon Street basement of his tiny cottage, abandoned there for over a decade. The manuscripts were water-damaged.

In presenting Merlin with the trunk, he would minimise the rejection by making it look like he had been intent on returning the trunk and its damaged contents. The snub was not lost on either Merlin or me.

I was, at the time, just down the hall; it was a short distance from where Carl had been talking to Merlin. Wounded as he was, Merlin never did come out from the apartment.

Whilst standing by two apartment doors, I kept watch. People were coming and someone said,

“I think that there is someone by the door; I can just tell…”

Since I did not want Carl or Merlin to know that I was about, I hid in back of both doors to the landing. In that way, I avoided being seen by Carl’s neighbours; I averted the kind of trouble that I did not need.

I then went down the hall. The door on the right was the apartment where Merlin had been. I went to the door and knocked.

On opening the door to answer, Merlin looked totally different. Though the eyes were unmistakably Merlin’s, he was considerably taller.

Merlin was very light-skinned and unmistakably Black. He had off-blond hair that was naturally curly which he wore in a loose, soft Afro hairdo. He was casually dressed.

He pleasantly smiled, on recognising me, though he was wearing a different body. He familiarly, warmly said,

“Come in…”

Oh to hear his voice embrace me. Such sweet, sustained magic!

I entered. It was obvious that he was making one of his spectacular meals. I, almost immediately, noticed that he had bought a cake. It was a wonderful loaf. Obviously, from the look of things, he had spent a great deal of time working on the other dishes.

There was a baked squash dish which was flavoured with a sweet liqueur. A veal loaf was surrounded by a sea of sliced onions. It presently was atop the stove, though, it was supposed to be returned to the oven.

There were marvellous vegetables that were all at various stages of preparation. He stood at a sturdy, wooden-topped, central cutting board table. He was cutting up an assortment of the vegetables.

My mind relaxed, as the pungent aroma of all the different herbs and spices being liberally used proved satiating and filled me up.

It was wonderful to again be in Merlin’s presence. I had the impression that he was Straight or, perhaps, Bisexual.

At the entrance of the apartment, on the left, there was a little alcove. The kitchen began there but it also opened up into a larger room. This actually was part of the living room; it was L-shaped and hugged the kitchen area.

There, in the apartment, was a young woman with Merlin. There was also a woman who seemed infirmed; she was lying on a cot. She was close to the kitchen area where Merlin was. They kept each other company whilst Merlin chopped up the vegetables.

Merlin and I were affectionate but there wasn’t any physicality to it. We did not hug each other when the door opened even though we recognised the revealing, shockingly displacing sight of each other.

Merlin had immediately recognised my eyes, on opening the door, just as I had his. However, there was now a dimensional void between us. Merlin was a ghost from the future for me whilst I was a, vaguely familiar, ghost from the past for him. He was warm towards me.

Merlin was a very decent human being, I must say.

He was, now, easily 6 feet 3 inches tall. Though not mesomorphic, he was also not the classic ectomorph that he had been in his immediate past life.

He was angular but not in the same way as I remembered him. Merlin here did not wear glasses. His eyes were large and even more soulful than they had been in his last incarnation.

It was so beautiful to see him.

The seasoning was so… spot-on. It actually made my mouth water.

The woman then asked him, from the cot where she reclined, if he had put onions with the veal loaf. When he said that he had, she told him that this was not right.

“Let me show you how to do the onion rings,” she called to him in a familiar, intimate tone.

Merlin then asked me to give him a hand and help him carry the things to her, just inside the larger room, on the cot. I helped him get the veal loaf onto a large tray with some other things. For whatever reason, at the last minute, I got some bananas and also put them on the tray.

We then came out, into the other room, where the younger woman was. She seemed like a nurse or a caretaker for the older woman. She was sitting there very silently observing us.

The older infirmed woman was very detailed with her directions for the preparation of the dishes and the garnishes. Some party umbrella garnishes, which are often used to decorate foods and cocktails, were also on the tray with the food.

Merlin had sliced the bananas – actually, they were plantains. The older woman had her arms clasped at her chest like an Egyptian mummy’s. Merlin then bound her body with blue-striped gauze. The blue stripes were like those of the Israeli flag.

She laid there immobile with her head raised on a cushion which had been strategically placed beneath the cot’s mattress. She looked at Merlin and wearily said,

“Please, will you give me my last rites? I want to hear you say that prayer.”

At that, Merlin began saying the Lord’s Prayer except that it was not at all the traditional Christian prayer of Christ. Instead, this prayer seemed to hearken back to Egyptian times. When he was finished the prayer, she uttered a soulful breath; it was the equivalent of Amen.

“Avuum…”

It is simply impossible to convey the sound she made. It sounded like a three-syllable word. Quite simply, the breath went out of her when she intoned the arcane breath. Perhaps, at the end of each lifetime, this was the call the soul made when exiting the body.

Together, Merlin and I had said the word with her but not as she had soulfully done. It was the chant of the dying which only a departing soul, accepting of the inevitable, could properly invoke.

When Merlin and I said it, in my mind’s eye, I instantaneously saw the word written out in bold letters of blue light.

Merlin got up and slowly, silently, walked away. I got up after him and thought about the potency of the word. I looked into Merlin’s face and saw that he was no longer the youthful man who had greeted me at the door.

Instead, he truly looked drained as though he had been channelling for too many hours. He was truly exhausted for having performed the rite on her.

Merlin returned to the kitchen area. I followed after him. I began eyeing the cake thinking that it would make a nice snack.

‘Hmmm, doesn’t that look nice,’ I thought, although, it needed to be warmed up.

It was a wonderful, fat lumpy cake with sweets in it – rather pleasing to look at.

“My, my, won’t I be glad to get some of this come dessert time.” I said in a quiet whisper.

On Tuesday, March 24, 1992 as the Moon transited Sagittarius and my seventh house, whilst in dream flight, I projected myself into the future.

Whilst there, I dreamt the preceding dreams which proved the most sublime encounter with Merlin. It was not just a glimpse into the future but proved to be illuminating, inspiring even.

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Ran into an old dancer friend from eons past… we sat about chewing the fat – and god was there much to chew at… I riotously laughed out loud when he said, “My god who knew you had this rich inner life going down back when I knew you… you just seemed so removed, remote even, from it all…” Indeed, sometimes it seems – at least back then – it is best to just keep quiet and not engage in the Maya. As there are never lies in dreams, it seemed an utter waste of time to bother engaging far too many persons met along the way back there. It was a surprise to me in late teens when I discovered that not everyone dreamt with the same élan as do I. Then again, who wants to be burnt at the stake – at least socially. Too, persons can be so terribly insensitive and quick to judge… Either way, it was good to hang out and meet up with an old friend. Funny though how things turned out for many, ultimately it proved no surprise. Then again who gives a rat’s arse and as Sweet Brown so succinctly stated, “Ain’t nobody got time for that!”

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Photo: Merlin in Montréal opening night play he directed at Centaur Theatre, late 1970s.

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Dreams are the poetic expression of the soul.

Tag: Task Companions

The Scarf… There’s the Culprit.

Diana’s Resolve… Extra-Human Tall Whites Arrive.

Merlin.

Happy Birthday!

Remembering Merlin.

Astral Plane Life Review.

Ghosts of Future-Past.