Dear Ones,
Hi soul gardeners! Slaves of ceremony. Just when I think there is no more heart to break. I hear my heart crack open even more.
Nothing like a dystopian week in the hospital to remind me of things. Suffering is great. Endings are certain.
There are no words (yet) for what I witnessed this past week at work. I am rendered speechless for once. Talking is so tiring anymore. Listening is a scarcity anyway. Instead, I conserve energy for metabolizing the week.
Unprocessed memories slither in and situate themselves inside the tissues of my body. Hoarders. Masters of hide and seek. Now I understand how overlooked trauma sinks even deeper. Wizards of invisibility.
*NESSA TIP*: If you experience, hear, or witness something difficult, don’t forget to shake out the trauma like an animal in the wild would do. On the same day. I move what comes up for me out of me every day with a variety of simple rituals and tools. My body reached max trauma storage capacity so learning new tools was my way forward.
SOUND BODY AND MIND
Persian New Year is coming at the spring equinox. I scatter sunflower and wildflower seeds. I hope to be silent as I absorb spring this year. If anything is loud it better be my wildflower blooms. They are prepping for quite a show this year. I feel it in my bones.
I am free in silence. In silence, I find peace and peace is freedom.
I am free when free of fear. Control is fear manifest.
I am free when I am nobody but myself. No masks. I tell me to take me as I am.
It is a Catch-22 that one needs to be of sound body and mind to find and maintain sound body and mind. -Me
WAKEFULNESS = AWARENESS = MINDFULNESS = CONSCIOUSNESS
I finally woke up. Metaphorically speaking. The word insomnia takes on new meaning. I make healthier choices. I know how important sleep is to my health so I sleep to stay devoted to wakefulness.
I am blessed with a wilder mind.
I watch melodramatic thoughts float down rivers and rivulets within my brain. Each day, I practice release of thought blockages that cause so much suffering. I give them quite a send-off.
I use my brain to master my brain. Who even is this keen observer of my thoughts?
I use my brain to unveil hidden forces that dull me and dumb me down. No thank you, indulgence. No thank you, distractions.
I use my brain to study how my brain bamboozles me. She is such a trickster. I learn her own tricks (and therefore successfully sidestep myself and the algorithm).
I hug myself back together.
THE POETRY OF SCIENCE
Writing is an act of self-devotion. It may even be holding me together at this point, dear mortals. Until it is my time to go.
I think a poet is somebody who feels and who expresses feelings through words. How does one become a poetic scientist? I heard that was a thing. Sounds like we need it.
This modern world of ours is co-opted by political agendas, lust for power, indulgence, fear, and selfish ambition. We witness deranged humans in power. My heart goes out to disturbed brains. My question to you is who gives them the power anyway? Does the platform of our attention give them power?
2600 years ago, Buddha had a simple formula:
EAGLE LESSONS
Eagles have incredibly sharp eyesight up to 8 times better than humans. Some of us recently found our eagle eyes.
For years, I have been eagerly following a devoted eagle couple named Jackie and Shadow via a live webcam courtesy of the Friends of Big Bear Valley (FOBBV).
The eagle nest is located in Big Bear Valley in the San Bernardino Mountains of Southern California. It is 145 feet up in a Jeffrey Pine tree. I am not affiliated with FOBBV whatsoever. My views are not their views. Permission was granted.
Disclaimer: You will fall head over heels in love with this couple. You are welcome. Please consider donating.
FINAL SEASONS OF THE HOSPITAL VERSION OF ME
Someone finally took up my cause. That someone is me. 156 more hospital days left.
In the meantime, get your boots off my face. Oh wait:
May All Beings Find Peace.
Thank you for your support. Please slam on the heart below. You could also comment, share, and subscribe.
Nessa
Spring Is Near Week In Photos 2/19/24-2/24/24
The poetry of science, I feel that that is my (perhaps our?) creative niche. I wrote this poem about the hormones of pregnancy that came to mind when you wrote that. I've also been making nature-y watercolors inspired by the shapes of head CTs, but substack won't let me plop them in here. And I 100% agree with that scientist. It will be a spiritual healing to face the wounds that cause greed, apathy, and feelings of powerlessness/victimization.
https://open.substack.com/pub/thenettlewitchmd/p/the-messengers?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=3mq65
You need to level the skyline!! lol
I love your photography