♟️Playing Chess with Isis, 📡 Technology in Dreams, ♻️ Recycling Soul Trash

and 👥 Tulpas and ⏳ Time Traps

Jul 11, 2025

♟️ ⚪ Neutrality is the objective of the game

At the end of my dreams, I meet with Isis. We play chess. I am the white pieces and she is the black—the mystery. There is no air of competition between us, only the game itself.

Life is a game, and I am both pawn and player. I am as pure as white and as unknown as darkness. Beyond duality and polarity, there is only what is.

Isis teaches me to see above opposites, to sit in paradox, finding peace in neutrality, and to remember that life is, above all, a game to play.

SPIRIT COMMUNICATION

📡 ✨ Definitions of technology in dreams

RECURRING DREAMS: JUNE 17, 2025 | JULY 2, 2025

When the fax machines began appearing in my dreams, they were always in office settings. On June 17, they appeared freestanding in a public park, where co-workers and I watched these monolithic machines print our assignments. On July 2, in another work setting, there was a discussion about upgrading the fax system—a technology now outdated and costly to Mother Earth. Environmental laws were about to change, requiring every department to find a new way to receive incoming messages.

I was confused by this new symbol, sensing it was a disguise for a higher concept that needed deciphering. I figured it out by reflecting on similar technologies that have appeared in my dreams.

Cell Phones — Direct outbound communication to higher spirit
Landline Phones — Telepathic communication from soul to soul
TVs — Remote viewing instances, glimpses into adjacent realities and timelines
Transmission Towers — Symbolizes the body as the conduit for communicating with galactic collectives
Printers — Channeling and materializing from a higher source
Faxes — Direct incoming messages from the higher realm, most likely related to our earthly mission

SHAMANISM

♻️ 🖤 Recycling Soul Trash

I was in a dream realm where everyone hauled their own consciousness junk behind them in garbage bags. When couples met and merged, their soul trash would combine, and they had to carry the accumulation together.

I made sure to recycle my trash, so my load lessened over time. I revisited a past relationship in the dream and helped him sort through his soul trash—old wounds and regrets he still carried. This felt like making amends—a loving act to lighten his load. I felt love and a sense of completion. This is what shamanic healing is all about.

TIME TRAPS

⏳ 💭 Pull yourself back into the present tense

I see his memory drip like motor oil into the past. I ask how far back he is in time, and he says, “All the way back.”

I reach out and pull him vertically up to the present moment. Looking down from above, I say, “You can reminisce from here—it’s safer. You might not be able to find your way back otherwise.”

This dream is more than two years old, but Dreamtime does not abide by linear time. I am always in a dream. We can slip into old dreams and drag out their edges—and travel through time.

Whether it’s nostalgia or trauma, sometimes we get stuck in the past. We drop roots into a reality that no longer exists. We need to be pulled back up into the NOW moment.

Remember from here. Live from here.

PSYCHIC PROTECTION

🧠 🌌 Psychic fields are playing grounds for thoughtforms

In a dream, I’m being hunted by an interdimensional being. He has a deflated soccer-ball head and gleaming blue eyes. This soulless entity is a Tulpa—a mental construct projected into my dream by someone else. I don’t believe this was intentional.

Psychic fields are playing grounds for our personified thoughts and emotions, and it’s inevitable that we sometimes create monsters from our fears and negative thought forms.

You can protect yourself psychically by simply being aware that these intrusions are bound to happen, and by making a habit of asking yourself: Is this mine, or does it belong to someone else?

DREAMTIME

✨ 🌌 My soul search for home in the stars

In the last dream of the night, I am someone’s house guest, asleep on the couch. I look up at the night sky and see a road map made of constellations, pointing the way to new dreams. When I travel through the astral realms, the concept of “home” doesn’t exist for me. I meet and spend time with the psychic selves of real souls—some currently embodied, some not—and then I move on like a cosmic nomad.

“The skylight is a map to my soul”

Another night on the cosmic highway.
I wake in an unknown dream,
on a stranger’s couch.
I don’t know the laws of this realm,
nor the villains,
or even the mission.
Am I the main character this time,
or just a bystander to my own soul?
The constellations light up the sky—
a road map for expansion.
My spirit is restless,
my consciousness relentless.