Dear Ones,
Hi Way-Seekers. I do not feel ready for January new year platitudes. It is not time to hit the ground running. Are you kidding me right now? I am literally on the ground crawling. If I gain a sliver of capacity to run, I will run for quiet hills.
I smile, nod, and say happy new year to you too. My teeth grit against my will. I am still in hibernation, mammals. No wonder why humans struggle around this season. It goes against our nature. Whose brilliant plan was this January New Year anyway? What shapes the people who shape our world? Amphetamines?
My ancestors got it. We Persians celebrate the new year on March 21st at the spring equinox. Not in the dead of winter. We begin again with native flower blooms.
Why does this crazy world make it hard to be present and aware? Writing you keeps me present and aware. I continue. Thanks for being here. Thanks for reading my words and my wordlessness.
PRESENT MOMENTS ONLY PLEASE
I can only deal with what is happening right here right now. Let alone face hypotheticals that occupy our feral minds. I face truth. Even that ability is suspect.
I develop rapport with my mental habit patterns. Befriend my trespasser thoughts. I invite them in for tea. I wisely put the tea in a to-go cup. I hear the transients out. Then, I kindly show them the door. They will squat if not invited.
I digest the blobby blur years. Obscene years of self-sabotage via my overgiving affliction. Anemia of self-worth. I metabolize giant jagged parts of me. Indigestible and solidified. My nerve endings have no end.
2024 mantra: If it is not a hell yes then it is a hell no. I don’t have hell energy anymore but you get the picture, right?
ARE YOU WORKING?
Tell me something, sapiens. How do you handle life’s trivialities? I struggle at times. This federation of monkey see-monkey do pains me. Hey, Taylor Swift, any way you can consider becoming an earth guardian? Embed environmental themes into your songs. Hypnosis of pliant masses.
People often ask: “are you working?” I want to respond with: “yeah, aren’t you?” Yes. I am working on being a better human. Yes, I am working on ways to reconcile the normalization of cruelty in this society. Yes, I am working on ways out. Why the hell aren’t you is the better question.
GROUNDING DURING STORMS
Are you looking for higher ground, stormtroopers? I can’t see past my nose. Maybe I should have shaved it off like everyone suggested. To fit in. To fit better views.
Grounding keeps us anchored in the here and now.
The tools we need are in the present moment. Read that again. The tools we need are in the present moment. It is not widely taught in the West. This way of being. That perplexes me no more.
You are going to suffer separation and loss. I don’t mean, you you. But I kind of do. It is a known part of human existence. Recall the FIVE remembrances.
This denial of pain may be why some choose narcosis. A buffet of numbing options to select from. Escapism addictions galore. Isolation nation. Afflictions of distraction worse than black tar heroin.
ODE TO THE SEA (Neruda poem)
I slept under moonlight in the high desert. The king tides were raging. I could feel them. The tide is controlled by the moon. I am a moonchild. Is that why I feel them?
How do sea creatures feel when the sea rages? Are they like: oh no, hold on, here we go again? Does an octopus get vertigo or motion sickness?
Studies have shown that octopi are capable of recognizing individual humans. They form preferences for some. Houdini-like ability to escape captivity.
Octopuses have 9 brains. One in the head area and specialized nervous system structures called ganglia in each of their arms. Brain power is spread out throughout the body, rather than concentrated in one location. How cool is that? We humans have a lot to learn.
If you haven’t seen the documentary, My Octopus Teacher, it is a must experience. Disclaimer: do not watch if you enjoy eating octopus.
F THE BOX
On escaping captivity, I stand with octopus. I despise the term think outside the box. There is no breathing space in the box. Those who benefit are those who benefit.
I step out of the box. My orientation changes. I now have highly developed protection of my peace. Outside of the box peace. A peace of no longer witnessing box atrocities.
*Nessa Tip* Play Whack-A-Mole. It is a non-violent mindfulness exercise to help protect what brings you peace. Most of the moles come from us. Some stem from trappings of society.
1. discover what brings you peace
2. discover what gets in the way of #1. Whack away. Realizations that surface here can be hard to stomach. Gut-punching swirls.
Truth Nugget: social reforms start with reforming human brains.
TIPPING POINTS
Never mind the earth's tipping point. What about my tipping point? Is it one and the same? We all need to tip over. Go to the edge and embrace the tip.
You look for express trains. I look for off-ramps.
I’m not leaving my job. It left me. Black and blue. It left me. Sick and tired.
The ping sounds on my phone. The now whats in my brain. How to escape my pesky identity as an Infectious Disease doctor. Inescapable. The salty taste of trauma baked into my specialty of choice.
My tap-out person confirmed this week. I doubled over in tears. The convulsive kind. Relief tears. Relief of the end of torment.
Mental health stigma plagues all tenets of society including healthcare. Leadership efforts miserably lag here. Miserably. Each year in the United States, roughly 300 to 400 physicians die by suicide. More on the topic of mental health in healthcare later.
Future humans will speak authentically and openly about mental illness, trauma, and pain with zero shame. That is the evolution. The revolution.
NO MUD NO LOTUS
2023 was a crucible year. 2024 marks the start of a pivot year. Thich Nhat Hanh’s phrase “No Mud, No Lotus” introduces ways to be in touch with suffering without being overwhelmed by it. He teaches us that without mud there is no lotus flower.
Darkness need not give rise to fear. We plant seeds deep in dark soil. Seeds sprout and thrive with sunlight. Seeds trust in the darkness. Trust in the reliability of sunlight. What sweet alchemy.
WHERE IS THE EXIT WOUND?
I came to with my head held down in soupy wounds. Are these wounds yours or mine? Does it even matter? I am not sure about anything anymore. Nothing is well demarcated. Infection grows outside marked lines. I get up and wipe pus from my brow. I prefer not to drown in this pool of collective human purulence. Where is the exit wound?
“The wound is the place where the light enters you.” -Rumi
My new life will cost me my old life. What an interesting twist.
Sometimes I ask myself: How on earth did I get into this situation I am in right now? No seriously, I must discover how. I look around, take a deep breath, and wonder…Did I choose this?
What is in my control? What is not in my control? Does the past inform me or control me? I vow to live and breathe by the serenity prayer:
God or Universe or the stars or the moon or anything out there: "grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
We are so far from nature that natural seems supernatural to us.
Truth and reconciliation may help build future healthy societies.
What a concept.
May All Beings Find Peace.
Nessa
By liking, commenting, sharing, and subscribing, more humans will access these posts. It may help others. It may not. Who cares. I have no energy to chase likes.
I love a personal variant of the serenity prayer: Grant me the awareness and will to change the things I can change, the peace of mind to accept the things I can't, and the experience to know the difference.
Excellent post. Concern about the planet, our society and ourselves with a dose of hope. Is the hope masked in complexity or simplicity. I am not sure. Your prose has power. I read it, move on to the next sentence and they stop and say, “ I think I just went by something really profound. Better turn around and take another look.” Thank you.