Winds Of Change
Wounds On Fire. Deafening Silence.
Dear Ones,
Hi lovelorn ones. Dear Earthlings. It is easy to be in a cursed mood these days, isn’t it? Crime scenes are everywhere. Suffering is on steroids.
War is staged and consumed like some kind of theatre performance. Even grieving, violence, and suffering are huge spectacles these days.
AI agents colonize digital landscapes. Tribalism has grown rabid. I refuse to get hoodwinked by propaganda and psychological warfare.
Are we blinded by the light of our wounds? By our wounds on fire.
Do you feel the winds of change? I feel change and I feel sameness. It is paradoxical and complex. I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending.
Luckily, hope is muscular. Waxes and wanes.
SISTER WOUNDS
I come from violence.
As an Iranian living in exile, I straddle two cultures. Two cultures of very different women. Erasure and betrayal come from all arenas. Sadly, there is not much kinship among the majority of Western women, Westernized women, and Eastern women. Hoping for solidarity one day in the future.
DAHATI (VILLAGER)
My origin story is so fitting. I am proudly Dahati. I have deep village roots. My ancestors lived in the North. I come from Gilan, near the forest by the sea.
Northerners are lovers of fresh food, rain, trees, lush mountains, and the Caspian Sea. The food is divine. Women are masterful chefs. Some are gardeners. Iranian women are rebelliously intellectual, and artistic. Independent. Genuine. Affectionate. Courageous. Brave. Loving. Warm. So so beautiful inside and out.
Women in Iran are very unsupported. They are oppressed/killed/tortured domestically and largely ignored globally.
MAYBE MAYBE NOT
We live alongside many questions. Sometimes patiently. Sometimes anxiously.
Maybe we imagine new ways of connecting. One consciousness.
Maybe we shift all our relations in healthy ways. Ecocentric ways.
Maybe we no longer betray our intuition for a sense of pseudo-worth and pseudo-belonging. Be who we are and belong.
Maybe our connections transcend performance, posturing, and shallow solidarity. Replaced with genuine consideration<—>awareness.
Maybe we stop repackaging sacred things into hollow digital content. End hyperconsumerism.
Maybe maybe maybe. Maybe not.
LITERACY LITERACY
A predictive brain is a blessing and a curse, I tell you. I predicted much of what is happening now. It wasn’t “me” per se, it was my body. She knows things before my mind knows things. Coherence is cool. The experience can’t be explained- only felt. Iykyk.
Most of us did not receive any form of AI, tech, device, information, or digital literacy training. It is up to us and only us. No one is coming to rescue us or haul our sh*t away.
The following is a great clip and worthy of attention.
AS IT IS
Vipassana is an insight meditation practice also known as “As It Is” meditation. The practice helps us see things as they are. Be a witness. Cut through complex illusions. Release brain clutter.
During my 10-day silent Vipassana course, I perforated my eardrums. I was in discomfort on a meditation cushion when I acutely felt ear pain. It was followed by a terrifying sensation of going deaf in both ears. My ears eventually popped and started leaking fluid. Everything got loud all at once. Thankfully, it was a totally silent event. Even silence is offensive to my ears.
DEAFENING SILENCE
The hyperacusis “side effects” of Vipassana continue 2 years later. As a result, I have more sense-processing and (un)deciphering tools now.
I prefer silence to hear the best parts of me. The worst of me comes out in loud fight club type spaces.
I prefer uncurated, wordless experiences to digest and metabolize my felt senses to completion. Brain usage detox.
I prefer simple solace of outdoor spaces. Unequivocally.
I commune with Redwoods solo and medicinally. And seasonally.
Scars of My Happiness:
May All Beings Find Peace.
May Iran, Israel, Gaza, Palestine, US, Yemen, Haiti, Syria, Afghanistan, Rwanda, Congo, Iraq, Ukraine, Russia, and everyone everywhere find freedom, love, and peace.
May we unite as a species once and for all.
May Iranian women and women everywhere be freed from tyranny.
Nessa (born at 333 ppm)
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beautiful. thank you for sharing your humanity.
Beautiful, Nessa, thank you. Wishing for peace and a better life for Iranian women everywhere.