Developing The Eyes To “See”

April 2017 Newsletter

Contemplation or meditation is about developing the sight of God. It can’t be termed anything else. When we speak of “seeing” as a bodily organ, we are more often alluding to perception or proprioception, discerning the essence of a thing.

When I looked at the sunset in this image , above, I heard the sound of the waves and felt my bare feet in the black volcanic sand. I aimed my camera west at the cascading light of the mountains that surrounded Puerto Vallarta. I  also felt culture shock. The image brings back that feeling of thawing from the cold, wet, rain of the west. I drove thousands of kilometres to arrive at the taking of this image that thawed my feelings of shock. When I put on my proprioceptive goggles, I might have discerned some feelings of grief and fear that were in me and in the image. You might relate to that image similarly, sensing my mood at the time or perhaps conjuring up a time when you felt similar feelings.

Vision or being “sighted” has so much less to do with “seeing” than it does with an epistemological event swathed with feelings that are soaked with impressions (feelings, functions and sensations) sourced both from inside and outside our bodies. Reality, as it lives in me, and in you, can be subjective (as in Kantian terms.) We can actually begin to develop an objective science of sight, so to speak, and render those sensed impressions into to a science of spirit: Rudolf Steiner’s epistemology.

In essence, this is the arm of Heilkunst; termed Anthroposophical Science; or the study of man. When we achieve unicity between God and man through our“soul seeing,” we can begin to sort out what is a function of disease and what is health. We can see or more accurately apperceive, discern and diagnose, based on certain qualities of feelings, functions and sensations (the Physician’s response)- trusting more in our inner soul’s function to “see” and apprehend phenomena.

This is why, as Heilkünstlers, we have no issues working with patients by phone. Our organs have been honed over the last twenty years to be able to “see” with all our faculties – not just with our eyes. A change in tone, a sudden in breath, a pause, or even a swallow inserted at the right time will enable us to perceive what we can not see. It feels like a transcendental meditation, adopting the spiritual sight, a departure from ordinary cognition.

In essence, your soul wants my soul to obtain the truth about you, so that you can be whole. It  reaches out to me through nuances in symptoms so refined at times that you may not even be consciously aware of them . The soul is entirely intact, and it’s job is to push discrepancies out into our midst so they can be fully apprehended – their meaning sucked clean from the bone and annihilated. For us, this is the functional nature of the “seeing” phenomena for proper discernment.

Rudolf Steiner states, “Just as in the body, eye and ear develop as organs of perception, as senses for bodily processes, so does a man develop in himself soul and spiritual organs of perception through which the soul and spiritual worlds are opened to him. For those who do not have such higher senses, these worlds are dark and silent, just as the bodily world is dark and silent for a being without eyes and ears.”

In this month’s articles, we speak about eyes and the meaning behind the “ocular” block as per Dr. Wilhelm Reich. Why don’t you take a look and see if you can wholly apprehend the phenomena around the meaning behind “pink eye” and why we don’t always use our eyes to “see” – when we are trying to avoid engaging with something in our lives.

 

February 2017 Newsletter

February 2017 Newsletter

This month our blog articles are focused on giving birth. Our very good friend and Heilkunst colleague, Lisa Powers, has shared her natural home-birthing story with us and given me permission to share it with you. Perhaps in the photographs you’ll catch glimpses of her homeopathic remedies in easy reach at the side of her bathtub!

On this note, our second blog post is a page extracted right from our book, “The Natural Home Pharmacy for Women” that will provide you (or an expecting woman that you know and care for) with all the homeopathic remedies and practical solutions for a healthy, natural birth. What I love about homeopathic principles is that the state of mind and physical suffering is never separated in wholistic treatment, and birth has so much to do with our mental state of being.

Enjoy this month’s offerings and we’ll be back with more juicy content next month.

Rockin’ The Cornerstones of Health; How I Let Go of New Year’s Resolutions

January 2017 Newsletter

I’m not really one for New Year’s resolutions. I don’t even start new protocols on a Monday after I realized years ago that I was setting myself up for failure if starting something new with a bang. My resonance organs dictate a mindfulness in motion that begs me to be accountable to myself each and every day; self-love is a continually evolving gesture of self-honour and self-care.

After sitting for three days a week in clinic I typically feel compelled to go on a mini-pilgrimage, usually this takes form as a good 10-12 km romp into the town or hills where I live… and my step counter will show about 17,000 steps by the end of the day. Jeff and I generally enjoy the same jaunt together on the weekend. During the week, I tend to engage in an hour of something each day; I love swimming, hiking the cobbled streets where we live, taking photographs, and enjoying an hour of yoga twice a week to ensure I’m maintaining upper body strength.

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I do not love plank poses, although I do love the way they make me feel when I’m regularly engaged with my practice. A thirty minute daily meditation also is part of my regular regimen. You may ask how I find the time… well, it has taken me twenty years to unhook from a life of obligation and now my health soars, with few supplements, by allowing my spirit to be free of living totally out of obligation. A decade ago, my goal was to craft a life that I no longer felt I needed a vacation from, and this goal has most definitely been achieved!

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I will take Vitamin D3 in the winter months only if I’m getting insufficient sunlight, although for the last two years we’ve lived in Mexico in winter, so I don’t bother much with this anymore. If I notice any thyroid challenges, I’ll take kelp and nascent iodine to help on those occasions. I also take zinc periodically, as well as some greens powder (spirulina/chlorella). I drink 2-3 litres of spring water a day which helps to keep me feeling clear, calm, and restored. I’ve always been a very thirsty constitutional type and so drinking a lot, especially in the mornings, really helps to set me right for the remainder of the day.

Mostly I eat quite scantily, fasting a couple days a week for most of the day; as I get into my more “senior” years I find that this approach helps keep my mind and body running optimally. At this high altitude of seven thousand feet above sea level, I sleep hard and soundly given the lower oxygen levels, and seven to eight hours a night without waking is beyond restorative to me. The less I eat, the better I sleep!

Being happy and in love with my partner and my life help a lot. We enjoy great recreation such as attending the orchestra, travelling with friends to a spa or organic farm in the country, or just lying around and reading. Having tea and discussing art, photography, principles or the concepts of Heilkunst enthuse me no end and it’s great that I get to do this with Jeff. I’m also adored, nurtured and well loved on, and kissed thoroughly with intent every day. I wish every human being benefitted from this much loving and fulfillment.

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Lastly, I’m rocking what I’m ordained to be. I used to wake with whole poems in my head as a child. I’ve always loved to write and it is a big part of who I am and the vehicle I use to serve others by crafting books in natural medicine and Heilkunst. I’ve also always been profoundly intuitive and so I use these skills to diagnose my patient’s deeper issues, and then use my knowledge and compassion to help them get to where they’d like to go with regard to the resolution of their chronic ills.  

Jeff and I both love hearing your monthly impressions as you work through the tangle of your challenges and wins each month. It is a living model of rejuvenation similar to a fever event, when your child speaks for the first time as they shed the Autism diagnosis.  You might now be able to imagine what it means when a patient tells us that she has found the love of her life as a result of going through this system of medicine, and that she no longer suffers chronic fatigue because she also let go of that gnarly day job where her creativity was suppressed.  

It is our resolution to be healthy enough to continue to support you in the ways that you expect, exacting the healing and curing principles of Heilkunst Medicine to the very best of our abilities.  We love serving you and it means so much to us that you keep coming back monthly and also refer your friends and family.  Our hearts are filled with purpose and meaning because of you.

Women’s Work; How To Lessen The Burden

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When the kids were still at home, we had a couple of systems that worked well as we had two busy practices, both of us were doing post graduate research and we had a farm to also run. Basic stuff had to get done, but I was unwilling to be the sacrificial lady lamb in the equation. Jeff, also, would not allow this to happen to me, either, so we developed some basic systems.

Every week we had a white board on the fridge and the four of us would divvy up the chores to be done that week, listed for each day. We also had laundry folding parties where everyone would meet in the living room, the clean laundry spilt out of the baskets onto the floor and then everyone would help sort by pitching undies, shirts, pants etc. at each other until it all got distributed. Great hand-eye coordination and memory work with this one! Each person had their own basket to fold (or gather) their clean clothes into and then put them away in their drawers or closet.

If the kids needed help, they would ask as we buddied up when one child was smaller and more challenged with the task at hand, but they were generally part of the sorting party by the time they were 4 and running the washer and dryer by 12. Sometimes their clean clothes lived in that basket until they got to the bottom, but it had to be kept in their closet. It was their choice as long as it was “put away.”

The other thing that helped a lot is that we had going was a shared grocery/general shopping list app on our phones divided into categories like “market,” “grocery store” or “hardware store.” If stuff needed to get on the list, like ‘cheese’ the child had to use our phones to load it on there or it wouldn’t get bought. Over time, they both got better at spelling these items … but often either Jeff or I would be standing in the grocery isle laughing ourselves silly as Jordan got good at writing items like, “monkey balls” or “penis pickles.”

When they were in their teens, they had the same shared list on their own phones and then when they drove, they also did the groceries. Yay! We helped to grow them into these shared roles from the time that they were little. They were also taught how to manage bills, make payments, and budget accordingly. Now, we’re showing them how to invest in ways that yield solid returns.

The idea was/is to make it fun, there was always some joking around, and the burden was never all on my shoulders to be the Queen-pin of our domestic operations. We also divvied up the cooking and everyone took a night or two preparing supper for the family. We ate a lot of the same things and our crock pot got a lot of use. Sundays, we’d get some music on, Adie would often bake (her Scottish shortbreads to die for), I’d prepare one meal, Jeff another and Jordan would be designated sous chef or dishwasher. The key was that we worked together at all of it … including mucking out the stalls in the barn. It built a sense of teamwork and belonging. A dull knife and a carrot can keep a toddler busy for quite awhile!

In our practice, we see a lot of women chronically in a Sepia state (the careworn mother) or Cancer state (rescuing others to the exclusion of self) of mind.  It is important to activate the health and well-being of our essential selves so as not to default to this program often wrought by our fore-mothers.  Trying to work full-time and/or homeschool and then also deal with all of the responsibilities of hearth and home (or farm) can start out as protracted stress and then become, over time, Sepia or Cancer states qualifying you for more aggressive treatments.  Is it time to wake from your resignation?

 

 

Here’s the original article, by Lisa Wade, that this blog was inspired by ….

http://time.com/money/4561314/women-work-home-gender-gap/

Finding Out Where Joy Resides

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Many folks come to us to address a chronic issue; chronic fatigue, chronic headaches, chronic back pain; chronic sciatica, chronic depression, chronic anger, and the list goes on.  This is where the journey begins, but it is not where it ends.  Once the chronic symptoms are addressed, the patient generally becomes so curious that she wants to know how deep the rabbit hole goes into her psyche.

She wants to not only find out the aetiology for the chronic pain, but she knows intuitively that something lurks beyond the cause, something so rarified that she may have never known it’s purity this lifetime.  Once the shocks, blocks and traumas are out of her way, she teases back the curtain to find where the joy resides.  She observes this new way of being even though it frightens her.

She realizes her chronic symptoms kept her from knowing this state of being.  What now?  Over several weeks, she fans her newfound “growledge,”  developing inch by inch her courage  to know herself in a way that she’s never apprehended before. She cautiously reaches for the joy  that resides just beyond her grasp.  She pulls back, afraid.  What if it’s transitory like all the other times she tried to know her wishes?!

She reaches, again, and it tickles her back.  She wonders if anyone is watching, if they can see the Kaos in her.  Her pure awe grows in the face of this newly realized essential self.  She remembers feeling like this as the tiniest child.  She realizes now, that the joy isn’t fleeting, but that the hardest task ahead will be to realize that she deserves it.

 

#joy #heilkunst #homeopathy #selfknowledge #beyondchronicdisease #beyondchronicsymptoms #hahnemannsaphroism9 #dontmissitall #theall

When Will We Know? Observations On Forced Education

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“circle of friends” by Valentina Powers

Rudolf Steiner, Spiritual Scientist, and founder of Waldorf Education and Anthroposophic Medicine cites that children can’t in fact subsume, in a healthy fashion, reading, writing or mathematical concepts until well after the milk teeth have fallen out. The idea being that if you wake a child too early to intellectual machinations, you damage the fine tuning of their etheric (creativity and absorption) and astral (artistry and inspiration) integration.

In this over-intellectualized and mechanistic epoch in which we live, one of the greatest crimes I see in healthcare is over-intellectualized adults who struggle with accessing all of their organs for knowledge. They’re just not properly integrated! This produces anxiety and neurosis on a large scale as their capacity for trusting their inner guidance system (gnosis) has been tarnished due largely to the tyranny of forced education.

Parents who live in fear that their child won’t be able to compete in this global culture unless they’re bullied into unfolding their egghead processes early on, actually destroy their child’s innate capacities to become lifelong learners, something which ought to be borne as a self-inspired, inside-out gesture. Real knowledge has never been a successful outside-in game and never will be. You’ve heard the maxim, “When the student is ready, the teacher appears.”

A natural curiosity is the stuff of health. It propels us from the Godhead of our ordination as human beings (not human doings) otherwise as children we’d never ask questions like, “Why is the sky blue?” If this innate desire is squashed, and replaced by government curricula and unproven homework that turns parents into hateful enforcers instead of advocates and protectors, we destroy a child’s delicate intuition.

When will we come to wholly trust, and have faith, that each of us will ask the questions – from an internal fount whose source is beyond our comprehension – that will propel the answers towards us? When will we come to the understanding that as we progress through our spiritual unfolding, our nuanced capacity to know will flow and ebb with each consciousness soul phase we blunder through so that we’re married to the functional purpose that evolution pours through each one of us?

When will we know that the gesture to bully and shove round pegs into intellectually limiting square holes is on its way out and that feminine wisdom is mounting a luminous trail so self-sustaining and rejuvenating that the silos of patriarchy are being revealed, and breaking down at an amazing rate? When will we know that the desire to “know thyself” is so flipping compelling to each one of us that its intrinsic nature is something to be preserved, not browbeaten or terrorized with ridiculous tests.

When will we preserve the essence of our innately curious being-ness as wonder-filled seekers?  

When will we know?

In Gratitude – ‘Tis The Season

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While attending University, way back when, I used to board with a great big Irish Catholic family. Actually, there were once seven children at home but when I arrived on the scene to rent a room, only the mother and one daughter were left at home. The young woman and I both attended the University of Toronto at the same College.

When I came downstairs one day the mother, H. (I’ll call her), wearing a surgeon’s mask, was stripping the paint from around the oak window casings with a small blow torch and a paint scraper. She was singing softly to herself. I tried to creep by without disturbing her as she seemed so intent on her task. She called out, “Is that you Allyson?” I replied, “Yes, I’ve come down to make some breakfast.”

I recall commenting on the incredible amount of work she was doing and that it might take a year, or more, for her to strip all the windows in the house, including the stained glass ones, and wasn’t she afraid of burning the wood or torching the glass? She responded that it was therapy for her after the decades of work at Queen’s Park as an assistant to a prominent political member. She was now retired and it seemed stripping windows of their white paint was how she’d decided to best fill her days. At the time, I didn’t understand why a retired person wasn’t out scuba diving or lunching with a whole gaggle of friends.

She continued, saying that she wove her prayers into the vapour from the torch, that they would be carried heavenward with each bubble of paint that she scraped from the sill. During the hotter summer months, she’d often strip the paint for 8-9 hour stretches in her panties and a loose t-shirt. I wondered at this sixty-five year old feminist as if she was a most curious object. Sometimes, I knew that she could feel my eyes on her and I could feel her smile; she’d just continue humming as she worked without saying a word. One time she did ask me if I had issues with feminism, and for three decades after I was mystified by her question.

Late one afternoon, I came home via streetcar along Gerrard St. East, to find on my bed a book entitled, “A Canticle for Leibowitz” by Walter M. Miller, Jr. about a simple shopping list left behind by a monk and how its seemingly benign items like, “Pound pastrami, can kraut, six bagels–bring home for Emma” speaks to the rise and fall of humanity in the face of atrocities like a nuclear holocaust. At the time, I didn’t have a clue why H. would want me to read such a book, however, since she seemed to take an interest in me (I had been orphaned the year prior) I forced myself through its pages. We never spoke about why she gave it to me.

To this day, I still don’t wholly understand the ramifications of what was written on the pages of that book, so I took it on as a gesture of intention, a meditation of sorts. Just as this woman scraped paint day after day, perhaps not wholly understanding why or what her function or purpose was at the time, she was investing her thoughts into the practice. I tried to bring the same gesture to that book, and many other books and practices since.

H. taught me that to be a woman in the 21st century, it is sometimes enough not to will something into existence with a great fury, hell bent on accomplishment. That sometimes, seemingly meaningless, repetitive tasks can allow for the space to contemplate, ruminate and even pray. That sometimes, whispering your hopes and dreams into the whiff of vapour, or exploring the incongruous meaning behind why a person is canonized by patriarchal religion is similarly mysterious.

It is the task of remaining open and receptive, in a state of gratitude for the simple things in life, where laying down the rod of doing in exchange for a state of being is an act of utter courage. It is the meaning of the “mass” portion of Christ-mass. When I look up Mass, I get a whole conglomeration of meanings in Wikipedia that look something like this:

“The English noun mass is derived from Middle Latin missa. The Latin word was adopted in Old English as mæsse (via a Vulgar Latin form *messa), and was sometimes glossed as sendnes (i.e. “a sending, dismission”).[8] The Latin term missa itself was in use by the 6th century.[9] It is most likely derived from the concluding formula Ite, missa est (“Go; the dismissal is made”); missa here is a Late Latin substantive corresponding to classical missio.

Historically, however, there have been other explanations of the noun missa, i.e. as not derived from the formula ite, missa est. Fortescue (1910) cites older, “fanciful” etymological explanations, notably a latinization of Hebrew matzâh (??????) “unleavened bread; oblation”, a derivation favoured in the 16th century by Reuchlin and Luther, or Greek ?????? “initiation”, or even Germanic mese “assembly”.[10]Already Du Cange (1678) reports “various opinions on the origin” of the noun missa “mass”, including the derivation from Hebrew matzah (Missah, id est, oblatio), here attributed to Caesar Baronius. The Hebrew derivation is learned speculation from 16th-century philology; medieval authorities did derive the noun missa from the verb mittere, but not in connection with the formula ite, missa est.[11] Thus, De divinis officiis (9th century[12]) explains the word as a mittendo, quod nos mittat ad Deo (“from ‘sending’, that which sends us towards God”),[13] while Rupert of Deutz (early 12th century) derives it from a “dismissal” of the “enmities which had been between God and men” (inimicitiarum quæ erant inter Deum et homines).[14]”

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mass_(liturgy)

It is really a tough piece for me to sort through. I don’t fully understand its holy  historical references; however, if I am patient enough, some vaporous light may illuminate it if I’m meant to know more. The other day, in a foreign country, where the language is foreign to me, I slipped into a two hundred year old church during mass. I sat in a back pew, closed my eyes in the cool stoney air and felt the wisps of incense wash over my fatigued bones. My camera draped at my side, I closed my eyes and fell into a meditative state as the filthy, homeless person with a ratty beard prayed next to me in Spanish on bended knee.

In the past, when directed by my mentor, Steven Decker, to study Rudolf Steiner until I drifted off to sleep more mystified and confused than ever, I’d become comforted without knowing precisely why I was studying such heady texts. It was like being tussled and tossed about in the washing machine of mystery. While I don’t always know in the moment, I trust that a canticle of meaning will eventually find me during the seemingly most mundane of tasks, a whispered prayer, poem or song received in the corridors of my heart.

I no longer have issues with powerful women. They don’t scare me. H. was right. It took me years to understand that just because I wasn’t counted as a wizened woman in my early twenties due to my weakened, diseased state  doesn’t mean that I didn’t have the potential to eventually become one.  After thirty years, through the portal of my own health, I learned to breathe many prayers into countless sill windows. Although ongoing, I now feel the answers to my own feminine mystery; a sweet place where I might serve in my ontological confines in this present space and time.  

A canticle of seemingly endless lists filled with pastrami and sauerkraut in the face of political holocaust can join together to produce strong, capable and assured women, who whisper prayers for the salvation of self and other into the vapours of time. This unifying presence through family and intention is the Divine feminine ignited.

This year I am thankful for rest, health, verve, ease, strength, quiet, creativity and an inner grace that is ripening. I am grateful for inspiring women, and men, in my life who hold the candle of the mysteries of life in good stead until they’re ready to be wholly illuminated. I am able to fall into meditation, offering prayer-filled alms to the Spanish beggar for he shines the light on what is still my greatest challenge: the quickness with which I judge the sills of time to be too many to make a shred of difference.

“Just as in the body, eye and ear develop as organs of perception, as senses for bodily processes, so does a man develop in himself soul and spiritual organs of perception through which the soul and spiritual worlds are opened to him. For those who do not have such higher senses, these worlds are dark and silent, just as the bodily world is dark and silent for a being without eyes and ears.”

? Rudolf Steiner, Theosophy: An Introduction to the Spiritual Processes in Human Life and in the Cosmos

Happy Re-New-al Year to you all!

Homeopathic Constitutional Types: Opium (Papaver)

Contained in your Emotional Support Dropper is a combination of homeopathic remedies we call “NSOL.” These letters stand for Natrum Muriaticum (grief), Staphysagria (anger), Opium (fear) and Lachesis (guilt). Opium is derived from the papaver poppy and, like all homeopathics, it in no way contains any of its crude source by the time we prescribe it. All homeopathic rx from Arcanum Wholistic Clinic are above “Avogadro’s Law” meaning that the rx is so highly diluted that chemical science would categorize it as placebo.

As we know, our medical provings are derived from observing someone who has taken a drug in crude form. For example, we’ve studied those who have taken opiates (known as laudanum several decades ago) for extended periods of time, and patients will share with us the effects of post-surgery painkillers like OxyContin, Percocet and methadone. The most active substance in opium is morphine, named after Morpheus, the Greek god of dreams.

Source: http://www.drugfreeworld.org/drugfacts/painkillers/a-short-history.html

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“Opium Den Gallery Xue” by trilbym

A great image that helps to discern the Opium state of mind is that of the Chinese opium den back at the turn of the last century or two, and even earlier to ancient Sumeria where it was considered “the plant of joy.” There have been many rumors that the character Sherlock Holmes was addicted to crude opium and that British author Thomas De Quincey partook, naming it “the celestial drug.” Also, Homer’s Odyssey involved sussing out ‘nepenthe,’ a medicine derived from alcohol and the papaver poppy.   

Source: http://www.urbanghostsmedia.com/2013/05/opium-dens-drug-age-urban-underworld/

In homeopathic medicine, Opium is the quintessential remedy for curing pervasive fear. Dr. Henry Clarke describes the state of mind in his three-volume set of Materia Medica as at first being very excitable and then succumbing to a dream-like stupor:

Carelessness, or great anxiety and uneasiness.Inconstancy and fickleness.Strong tendency to take alarm, and timorous character.Rash and inconsiderate boldness.Tranquillity of mind, with agreeable reveries, and forgetfulness of sufferings.Stupidity and imbecility.Loss of consciousness.Great flow of ideas, with gaiety and a disposition to indulge in sublime and profound reflections.Vivid imagination, exaltation of the mind, increased courage, with stupefaction and dullness.Very easy comprehension.Illusions of the imagination.Mania, with fantastical or fixed ideas; patient believes, contrary to fact, that he is not at home.Delirium with frightful visions, of mice, scorpions, &c., and with desire to run away.Mendacity.Rambling speech.Loquacious delirium, with open eyes and red face; furious delirium.Fright with fear; is followed by heat in the head and convulsions.Grief over insults is followed by convulsions.Drunkenness with stupor as from smoke on the brain; eyes burning, hot and dry.

Source: http://www.homeoint.org/clarke/o/op.htm

About six years ago, we treated a fellow who worked for the local hydro company. He was coming home late one night in his truck, it was foggy, rainy and turning to sleet. In the fresh snow that had accumulated during the day, he noticed the relatively fresh tire tracks of a car that had gone off the road and slid into a ditch down a fairly steep embankment. When he reached the vehicle he found a woman still belted in the front seat; pulling her from the wreckage, he checked for a pulse, called 911 and started CPR. My patient soon realised there was no hope, but continued trying to resuscitate her until the paramedics arrived. When he came to see me, he was in an Opium state and his wife confirmed that he kept having bad dreams and worries of finding others in a similar state at the side of the road.  He was still in a state of shock, cycling through fight/flight.  He cited that he felt numb to it all.

I’ve served women who have been in an Opium-like state for many years after suffering some form of emotional, physical or sexual abuse. They have trouble with memory, feel somewhat lost and just can’t seem to fully actualize themselves due to this overwhelming pervasive fear and delirium. If you look at the eyes of many women coming from terror-filled countries where rape by oppressors was (and still is) an instrument of terrorized suppression, you will look into their deadened and staring eyes. There is no worse crime for a woman, with death often being preferable.

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“Women and children at the health post of the Sam Ouandja refugee camp” by hdptcar

Source: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B006FO19S2/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1

Dr. Clarke describes the eyes of a person in an opium state suffering chronic fear as:

Eyelids hanging, as if paralysed.Sensation as if eyeballs were too large.Eyes red, inflamed.Quivering of eyes and lids.Eyes half open and are turned upwards.Staring look.Swelling of lower lids.Eyes fixed, half closed, convulsed, prominent, glassy.Pupils dilated (insensible to light), and immovable.Pupils contracted.Cloudiness of sight.Sensation of dust in eyes.Scintillations before eyes.

Years ago, one of my patients had served in Afghanistan in the U.S. army (details changed to protect his identity) and was extremely traumatized by the constant threat of  landmines which could explode at any moment. He had also witnessed a close friend succumbing to such a catastrophic fate. When he came to work with me, he was smoking a lot of cannabis, and teaching yoga and meditation as this was the only viable thing he’d found to curtail reliving the shocks and terrors of his experience, courtesy of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). He was in such a reverie that he described it as feeling in a stupor 24/7.

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“Self portrait trauma scars, Emotional abuse, Mental, sexual, Physical, verbal Domestic Violence Spousal marital rape Trauma PTSD, Self Portrait, Runjanefox, #janefox this is me. #domesticviolence #stopdv #spousalrape #dv #hearmystory” by Jane Fox

When we clear this type of trauma on a patient’s timeline, they will describe many strange dreams as being part of the healing reaction. I’ve had patients say that that mid-month after taking the remedy, at the twelve to fifteen day mark, they’ve had vivid dreams of being abducted by aliens, seeing malevolent spirits, being involved in an horrific accident, feeling a presence in their midst…just to have it all disappear by the twenty-eighth day and be replaced with restored clarity of mind.

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“A Dream” by Sepp Schimmer

Humans are not the only beings to suffer such atrocities producing a chronic fear state. Years ago, we rescued a twenty seven year old horse named “Teddy.” He was such an aged Appaloosa that he’d turned completely white, having lost all his characteristic spots. He’d worked all his life in both Western and English barns for children, and was both bit (mouth led) and neck reined (neck led on opposite rein). He wasn’t the horse that we wanted; we were actually buying a young two-year old mare named Baby to train up for my daughter, Adie. The problem was that Teddy and Baby were inseparable and the owner pulled at our heart strings asking that we take both of them. We agreed.  

However, shortly after Teddy joined our farm of thirty-six animals, I noticed that he had a persistent film over his eyes, like cobwebs, that I was constantly cleaning out. He also had that characteristic staring-off look with dark congealed tears weeping from the left eye more so than the right. His lids seemed kind of wrinkled over his blue-brown eyes.

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© Allyson McQuinn

I gave old Teddy a drop of Opium 30CH and watched him completely perk up. It was amazing! In fact, Baby proved way too fiery for my daughter so when her horse turned three we hired a trainer for Baby, and Adie learned to ride on Teddy, using the Alexander Technique and no bridle, instead employing just the subtlest of body movements. Teddy learned this whole new approach to riding without a hitch in his elderly step!

My hope is that you have a better idea of what induces an Opium state in yourself or a loved one. I’m going to list a number of events below that we’ve treated in our patients that may be of further assistance as you discern the type of events that can engender a chronic Opium state:

  • Car accident, ski accident or any near miss with or without bodily injury
  • Bad news like a death in the family or loss of a dear friend
  • Shocking event like seeing someone badly injured
  • Participating in a war
  • Seeing someone raped
  • Being raped
  • Living in an area with a high rate of crime
  • Watching the news
  • Being harmed or abused
  • Seeing an animal harmed or abused
  • Watching a horror film

Folks more likely to be in a chronic Opium state, that we’ve successfully treated:

  • Paramedics, firefighters and first responders
  • Police officer
  • War veteran
  • Red Cross volunteer
  • Lifeguard
  • Emergency Room nurse or doctor
  • Parents who have suffered a stillbirth, especially the mother
  • A child prone to nightmares/night terrors
  • A parent whose child is diagnosed with autism, cancer, MS or other debilitating condition
  • Being diagnosed with a challenging condition
  • A victim of war crimes, shootings or bombings
  • A person who has survived living in a ghetto with a high rate of crime
  • Anyone diagnosed with a debilitating condition
  • An individual who has suffered marital abuse

Honing Our Organs of Self Knowledge As Digital Nomads

Well, we’ve put 19,000 kms in total on our car since June travelling across Canada and down the west coast of the United States and into Mexico. We’re finally settled in the most remarkable city that we’ve ever been to in both Europe or North America. Think ancient Italian port town nestled on a rocky bowl with mind-blowing food and culture for less than a few pesos.

Guanajuato, Mexico is built in a steep teacup that is an ancient caldera of a volcano. It was the seat for the Spanish invasion, and subsequent revolution, due to the wealth of the gold and silver mines documented in the art of Diego Rivera (Frida Kahlo’s husband).

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In the week that we’ve been here, we’ve already been to several concerts, with a world class symphony, with performers that hail from Russia, Europe as well as Mexico. Yesterday, I went to a piano recital that blew my socks off, afterwards there was a wine and tapas offering in the spectacular garden with local folks peppered with expats. It cost me $10 Canadian.

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I’m learning to muddle through with my broken Spanish, although it is tough being so effusive and so short on vocabulary. I will start my tutoring online next week and hope to volunteer here with local youth who make organic soaps and olive oil so that I can learn more of the colour of this expressive romance language.

Our two room casita, with fibre-op, sits at the very top of the bowl with mountains jutting up on three sides. Any stroll to the the town takes us on a steep incline that makes me often think that I need a climber’s belt, ropes and several carabiners to make it back home.

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Our morning hikes take us down cobbled streets through a dam, salted with patos blancos (white ducks), a gorgeous park past several schools and universities for art, political science and engineering. Of course, there are churches with huge iron bells and haciendas dotted in between with old colonial styling and balconies, man how I love a pretty balcony!

Jeff and I will scoot into Café Tal for a Sencha Tea (or the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had) and then we might have a couple of steamed tacos for breakfast from a street vendor. All totalling about $3.50 Cdn. A cab is 50 pesos (about $3.00 with tip) and the bus is 5 pesos (which is so little I can’t calculate it). Our groceries for the week come to about $30 – $40 Cdn at Mercado Hidalgo (built by Ernesto Brunel and Antonio Rivas Mercado with input by Alexandre Gustave Eiffel of Paris’ Eiffel Tower) where we get all our fruits, vegetables and meats.

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It’s even cheaper if you walk the streets and locate the native indians, mostly women with babes in arms, who’ve brought their wares to sell down from the ranchos way above the lip of the caldera. One such young fellow, in front of his parent’s vegetable stall, stopped and asked me in broken English where I was from. I responded, “Canada,” gesturing way, way far from here, and he asked me if we speak English there and I said, “Yes, and French too!”

The weather is very cool here at night, dropping down to a nippy 5-8 degrees celsius which is in the mid 40’s on the fahrenheit scale. Like home, we have three blankets on our bed for warmth at night. And boy do we sleep! At 7,000 feet above sea level, we’re having to take the homeopathic remedies, Coca and Cundurango, for a touch of altitude sickness. You’re extra sleepy at night, the oxygen thinner so when hiking back up the 3,500 steps (about 15 flights of stairs … no, we don’t count them … we have an app for that!) from having tea, we need to stop a couple of times to catch our breath. Also, you can have headaches right where you’d have devil’s horns, if you were thusly inclined, on the top of your head and feel at times a little hungover with a stomach bug.

While it takes about six weeks, typically, to stabilize your blood oxygen levels, we’re already feeling amazing in our new locale. We travel like this to fulfill our astral desire function to know new people, culture, art, music and language. It builds the ontic (sense of autonomy/immunity) by holding our essence in check as we’re exposed to many different circumstances and seeming social incongruencies to our more conservative Canadian sensibilities. Also, living in Canada, frankly is just too familiar, and also very pricey now that we’ve just paid off all of the “investments” we made into our education.

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We’ll see what the next five months here in Mexico yields. In our opinion, we’d much rather be on this side of any walls to be erected by boisterous (better if I don’t add the other adjectives I’m thinking of) politicians.

 

A Case of Altitude Sickness

Jeff and I were staying in Kimberley, BC for the past couple of weeks. It was a stunning place to live as we were completely surrounded by mountains. The Canadian Rockies were on one side and then the Purcell Mountains lined our vista on the other. I could trace the ski hills with my finger as they traveled across the mountain sides.

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“Mountains” by Tony

Being an east coast Maritime gal, I’d never seen or lived in mountains so high for any length of time except to visit Switzerland and Austria for a short while back in the early 90’s. Jeff refers to me as his mermaid as I love the ocean and I LOVE to swim and snorkel for hours at a time. Mountain living was a whole new thing for us which is why we’ve been travelling so much. We’re curious about different geography, climates and how other folks dwell on the planet.

The second week in Kimberley, I just wasn’t feeling one hundred percent. My health is usually incredibly robust, but I was really restless and agitated with a low grade vibration going on just below the level of my skin. I also wasn’t sleeping well at all. I was SO tired. I would go to bed and lie awake for hours, trying to tell myself that meditating was just as good a rest. Meanwhile, the agitation was ramping up more and more. I’m usually pretty laid back and a great sleeper, but I felt physically and mentally wound up tighter than a top, and it was starting to affect me emotionally.

Also, during my early morning hikes to town for a green tea, I’d have to stop periodically on the ascent back home and rest. I was feeling more and more light-headedness and I often felt winded to the degree that I needed to sit down on the trail to recover. I’ve been hiking heartedly for over 20 years and never felt so spent. Mind you, our step counter app was telling us we were hitting about 6,500 -7,000 steps per day with an elevation equivalent to 15 floors of a skyscraper. Sure it was challenging, but this was extreme. I’d never not been able to talk while hiking like this and I felt really dizzy, like I might faint.

It was during a tour of the local town folks’ gardens that I began to piece together what was going on for me. One woman, Linda, mentioned that she was from Edmundston, NB just about 5 hours north of where I’m from. Jeff was asking her about the Black Bears that visit her compost when she turned to me and asked me how I was making out with the elevation?

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“Spitalfields Gardens” by Herry Lawford

I let her know that I’d not been sleeping and that I felt anxious and jittery. She then informed me that that is common for folks visiting, given that Kimberley was the 2nd highest town in Canada at 5,500 ft., just after Banff, AB. This explained a lot.

I recalled, then, years ago how I’d served a woman who went on a ski trip to Colorado and was staying in a resort at just over 5,000 ft. above sea level. She’d called with an acute and similar symptoms but with actual vertigo and fainting that landed her in the hospital. Thankfully, I wasn’t feeling that badly.

When I went back to our Airbnb, I studied Coca in our Materia MeMadicas. I was astounded how much my symptoms matched. Coca is the plant grown high up in the Andes that the natives use to combat altitude sickness by chewing on the leaves. Homeopathically, it will also cure a case of altitude sickness. I made up a dose of 200CH on our radionics machine and took it that night.

In Dr. Clarke’s Materia Medica, he says,“Coca has been used for centuries by natives of West South America as an intoxicant; and also as a remedy for “Veta,” the condition induced in persons on coming to live in high tablelands:?faintness, throbbing heart and head, dysentery, &c. It is like tea and coffee in arresting tissue-change, and enabling those who take it to undergo unusual fatigues.”

The thready pulse, feeling winded, sudden loss of energy, trembling, lack of sleep, and nervous exhausted feeling were also all in there. I’d noticed the heat with the sleeplessness, with throbbing in my arteries, extreme weariness and night sweats. The night before I’d awoke with a start and my pillow was soaked! I’d never had a hot flash in my life, and so I was not liking these latest symptoms at all.

After the homeopathic dose of Coca, I slept like a baby and the bug crawly feeling and the weakness all disappeared. I swam a mile at the salt-water pool the next day and felt great. Back to my mermaid roots in our mountainous climate before heading to Vancouver the next day.

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“Kauai” by Adam Foster

The mountains are glorious and I’ve loved getting to know the people in the West who stem more from German and Danish roots. They’re a rugged, intelligent, no nonsense lot with a strong bent towards recreation, healthy foods and a kind of “make it happen” attitude. I have to say, now that my symptoms are addressed, I could perhaps have a little mountain Kimberley in me too as long as I have a dose of Coca and a can of bear spray strapped to my belt.

Further reading : The Ideogenic Realm : Cocaine and Coca