Full moon Sulmum guide K Journal Gratitude contemplation Packing books Meantime means something Giving things away freeing Not selling online (128 more notes to go…)
ALL DAY A GOOD DAY
In 2015 I self published a memoir on living with a terminal cancer diagnosis for four years. The period includes a radical hysterectomy and chronic lymphatic infections that left me bedridden for months at a time.
It’s strange how time, new events and new experience, can change perspective. Looking back I still find many of my truths in here. Truths I personally hold to this day. I also see the loose ends, the lessons not or only half learned so they keep being repeated. It then suddenly dawned on me that this is where Sulmum originated: the comment on the back flap. It’s a quote by my friend and former death doula Mirella Satoor de Rootas. Calling me “whole” planted the seed for Sulmum.
A Note That Left Me A Little Rattled
I couldn’t let go for days. I wanted to be philosophical about it and told myself: not everything in the world needs to be addressed…
“My life is messy. The avalanche of trauma I have experienced strings together like a not so credible plot of a shitty movie.
Yet I have set out in the path to be of service to others who are stumbling through their own unlikely scenarios and feel like they’ve lost the script and the director has gone awol.
I don’t offer myself as a resource, I am not a tool to fix things, I am also do not have a cabinet full of snake oil: I offer my presence to witness whatever needs to step into the light for us to remember we are here and that we are whole.
Currently I am working on mapping out the road that got me here, why I am coming at this from my specific approach, what is integrated into my vision, where I desire growth.
This makes me more aware and sensitive to how others on a similar path present themselves. Out of the ones I follow here some resonate stronger than others. I am surprised, I learn, I sit with whatever doesn’t immediately makes sense. I honour information brought to my attention by giving it time.
This is how a few days ago I came across a note that I had to read several times. At first I did not think I got it. Or that whatever I read in it must be accidental or I misinterpreted the message. It lingered and made me so uncomfortable that I unfollowed the author of the note.
They compared the position of a healer as the one who offers the tools for the seeker to help pull weeds from the garden. I have a very different approach to healing. And to gardening, but this metaphor was not the issue per se.
I can get over the chosen metaphor to a certain extent. That was not initially what hooked me. Reading through her words, I felt a sharpness, something snidey and superior. There is almost a kind of pride running through it.
I think the intention was to express boundaries.
Their note started with specifically addressing people in severe crisis, like stage 4 cancer patients or people suffering with other life threatening situations that require intense medical treatment.
Situations that come with an unbearable sense of urgency, and naturally can make people feel desperate and driven to seek where they have never gone before. Posing it the way this author did it can come across as dismissive or even shaming of people in crisis.
In the note it is also implied that they know how to heal, regardless of the severity of crisis and that they have done so before.
By saying they won’t “anymore” sounds like withholding in a way that sounds cruel.
She then goes on to dismissing people who are looking for a quick fix, which given that is said in the context of a note that starts with people in literal life or death scenarios to me reads so inconsiderate and frankly undignified.
Also, Nick Polizzi from the Sacred Science has a new series out: HERE
Morning
Around three the morning Stella woke me up Restless and panting She has been having more of these episodes And the vets appointment is tomorrow Around five I put my sleeping mask on In an attempt the stretch the second sleep inning Into daylight I didn’t jump up out of bed to make a coffee Instead I laid there until my belly forced me to Visit the outhouse
I have to go into town today It’s not something I enjoy doing You would think that living in the middle of nowhere A trip would be welcomed To break the quiet And prevent cabin fever
Maybe if Sfantu was a pretty city like cluj or Sibiu or even little medias then yes But it’s dusty and ugly and dull and all I do is run errands Why leave the woods for that?
I have to do some paper work I have to get some roof tiles Get some veggies from the market maybe Maybe today I will go to the single nice cafe they have though
The weeds that took over where the edible garden was supposed to grow are starting to die The last three days have been grey and damp and I have been sleepy and “off”
my thoughts are like marbles Not as in “lost her marbles” But as in all mixed up in a bag and I want them sorted by colour type and size
I set the French press before heading out for my second visit to the outhouse Belly is far from happy A decade after an insane overload of amoxicillin and penicillin despite best efforts my gut health never fully stabilized
Puk is out wandering through the thistle jungle Jesse stands guard and runs back into the house with me Stella snoozed on the sofa for a bit but is now back in bed The middle of the bed
I press the coffeepot which was filled to the brim and some spills out
I clean it up and poor coffee in my favourite cup add some cream (real cream!!) and place it on the freshly polished wood stove Stove polish and roof tiles: I still take care of the place Although I haven’t managed to cut more weeds yet I feel as if since last week I have gone into a bit of a slumber. I feel little drive or energy There is not a lot what I feel in the mood for so I do what needs doing
Kamerleden Emails
If anyone is interested in sending emails to members of the Dutch parliament I have the entire email list, courtesy of Plant An Olive Tree Foundation. In my most recent email I addressed the IDF “culture” of boasting on killings on social media. Relishing in the suffering of others I believe can cause collective damage. I can’t imagine any human being whole and well while celebrating cruelty.
Self
SILIM
Part 9: Sulmum’s Compass Self is not singular
Facets include:
Self as longing / disappearance.
Self as boundary / agency.
Self as psychological multiplicity.
Self as religious/spiritual paradox.
Self as observer.
Self as construct / play.
Self as cultural product.
Sulmum holds:
Self is whole, yet fluid.
Anchored, yet open.
Constructed, yet free.
Read the full post in SULMUM on the Self, HERE.