Lyme Eyes, Magic Eyes

“The eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me; my eye and God’s eye are one eye, one seeing, one knowing, one love.”
~ Meister Eckhart, Sermons of Meister Eckhart

 

If you’ve read my blog for a while you’ll know:

a) that I have Lyme disease

b) that Lyme bacteria in my optic nerve wreak merry havoc

c) that I am psychic.

I’ve had some ongoing issues with my eyes since beginning treatment for Lyme. There’s been pain. Lots of pain. Vision disturbance. Vision loss. Nystagmus. Some of it is related to my optic nerve. Some of it is neurological. Some of it is herxing. No matter the cause – Ow!

But the past few days there’s been something new.

Out of the corner of my eye I have seen darting shapes – wispy, thin, undefined shapes.

At first I wrote them off as being a Lyme issue, and didn’t pay them much attention. Today I’ve changed my opinion.

As I sat in the garden with Harry Dog after my meditation, my eye was caught by yet another darting shape. As I looked at it, the shape stopped for a moment.

Harry saw it too.

Image from forargyll.com

Image from forargyll.com

And then I realised I had seen it this time with my ‘good’ eye first.

So now I’m not so dismissive of this whole latest ‘seeing things’ thing. After all. I’m psychic. I woke up on my thirtieth birthday and I could see auras. I work as a medical intuitive and ‘see’ things within and around the body.

I’m not quite sure what’s catching my eye yet, but I’m quietly excited to see what develops from here.

I promise to keep you posted!

 

Poems, Prayers and Promises

Image from miriadna.com

Image from miriadna.com

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”
~ Mary Oliver

 

I saw a new lyme doctor yesterday. Why a new doctor? It goes like this:

The first doctor I saw diagnosed me but wouldn’t treat me because ‘lyme was contentious and he was trying to fly under the radar’. My second doctor treated me aggressively with antibiotics and herbs, saving my life. The AMA put restrictions on his practice and prevented him from offering treatment to lyme patients. My third doctor – highly respected as a lyme physician here in Australia – had one appointment with me, where he prescribed a new and intense drug regime, shortly after which he took leave of absence for health reasons. I waited and waited for him to come back to work, and then found out in late December that he was no longer treating lyme patients as their immediate physician.

Meanwhile symptoms I’d not had for a long time had flared up, new problems had emerged, and I was keen to find someone who knew what they were doing and who could offer me continuity of care. After realising there was no-one in charge of me and not likely to be for some time I’ve been winging it, with a little help from my kind and courageous GP, and my own intuition. Winging it, I think I’ve done quite well, but still, I’m no doctor.

As you might imagine, I woke apprehensive. Discussions with other doctors had suggested that this year I’d have an even more harsh offering of drugs to take. That this year would need to be hard-core to make up the ground I’d so recently lost. I’d been told I’d need to see this new doctor and follow her own strict protocols as well as conventional lyme protocols for at least a year to get results.

I’m so tired of the pain, the brutality, the isolation imposed by both the disease and the treatment. As I lay in bed yesterday I offered up a prayer to the Universe. Let me get my answer today, I affirmed. I promise that whatever I am shown, I will honour that path.

In my mind I’d already decided that this doctor would be the last one. Intuition had led me to her. I’d already been given guidance in my channelled sessions that this year I would eventually forgo drugs. I would eventually forsake the last vestiges of traditional medicine, and I would find a way to heal, thoroughly and well.

This is it, I thought. My last roll of the dice.

But it didn’t feel like luck. It felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, from which I would either fall or fly.

Paradigm shift. They were the words that kept playing in my head. Those words and the fragment of a Mary Oliver poem, Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

Image from Terri Pope

Image from Terri Pope

I knew I was missing something. Some vital thing. A  key that would unlock this whole mess. A clue that would break me open and in the same breath begin to piece me back together again; gently, gracefully and with meaning.

I sat in the doctor’s office and we talked shop. Drugs, stats, bloods, symptoms, history. The usual. All the things she’d asked for.

‘You’re psychic,’ she said, reading my file, where for once I’d been bold enough to list that as my occupation. ‘That’s a real gift. Intelligent too, I can see. No-one would have developed this complexity of treatment protocols for themselves without deep intelligence.’

She looked at me, and held my gaze. ‘This isn’t my usual approach. But I assume you’re good at what you do too. I can see you have most of this under control. I don’t need to spend time discussing diet and nutrition with you. You’ve done most of the things I would recommend. I can see how sick you’ve been. How sick you still are. And you and I both know I can’t heal you – that healing comes from some other place. So, what do you need to heal – quickly, easily and with grace? How could you love your dis-ease?’

This wasn’t how I’d expected the session to go. I’d expected that she would tell me.

‘It’s funny,’ I said to her after pausing to gather my thoughts. ‘I fought so hard not to be psychic. But lyme stripped everything else away from me until it was the only thing left that I could do.’

I thought a bit more, and a realisation came to me like rays of light penetrating a deep dark forest. ‘You know,’ I said, leaning towards her, ‘when I do my psychic work, no matter how ill I might be, I move into a different space. A higher vibration. For that time I operate as if I don’t have lyme. And the effect lasts for a few hours afterwards, before I eventually come back into this disease state.’

She kept looking at me, holding that space for me, and suddenly I knew. Words tumbled out of me…

‘I’ve been so ashamed to be who I am. To be psychic. I’ve felt so guilty that I did not turn out the way my parents and teachers expected. The way society expected.’ I knew it to be true as they were coming out of my mouth. Guilt. Shame. Judgement. Such low vibration words. The complete opposite of the way I felt when I was firmly in my truth, owning my gift and living as a psychic, a shaman, as a spirit woman, guide and teacher. There I was open, I was light, I was in flow and everything in the world was beautiful and good. I was everything and everything was in me, and it was all as it should be. Peaceful. Blissful. Oneness.

There was more. I realised that I’d always held an expectation that when I eventually became well, that I should go back to my corporate life – the life in which my family and I had been so invested.

How could I ever be well when being well would mean walking away from my soul truth and my integrity to go back to living a life path dictated by others?

The shift in me was strong and immediate. Peace surged through me and calm lit every cell.

All I needed to do was own who I am. The beauty and the power and the strange rightness of this life. Of my skills and talents. Of my passion and my gift.

Image from wallarthd.com

Image from wallarthd.com

We both decided I need a light amount of drugs for a mop-up of one of my co-infections. A little retweaking of this and that, some healing and rewiring at an energetic level. I’ll keep using my herbs and essential oils. I’ll keep using my meditation and energetic healing. We’ll play it by ear, listen to my body’s own wisdom and see where that takes me. There’s some rebuilding to be done, some repair. But it is all fixable. It’s already shifting.

Finally, I have found a doctor who speaks my language and who can respect and mirror back to me what I most need to hear.

When I got home there was a message in my inbox. Dana, my PA, had forwarded me a poem sent by a lady called Illona. Thank you, Illona. It was so very timely.

It’s no coincidence that it’s also a Mary Oliver Poem.

I present the message in its entirety below:

Message: Nicole, I see this so much as who you are:

 

Today again I am hardly myself.

It happens over and over.

It is heaven-sent.

 

It flows through me

like the blue wave.

Green leaves – you may believe this or not – have once or twice emerged from the tips of my fingers

somewhere

deep in the woods,

in the reckless seizure of spring.

Though, of course, I also know that other song, the sweet passion of one-ness.

Just yesterday I watched an ant crossing a path, through the tumbled pine needles she toiled.

And I thought: she will never live another life but this one.

And I thought: if she lives her life with all her strength

is she not wonderful and wise?

And I continued this up the miraculous pyramid of everything

until I came to myself.

And still, even in these northern woods, on these hills of sand, I have flown from the other window of myself to become white heron, blue whale,

red fox, hedgehog.

Oh, sometimes already my body has felt like the body of a flower!

Sometimes already my heart is a red parrot, perched among strange, dark trees, flapping and screaming.

— Mary Oliver

 

big hugs

Oh my goodness how that validated everything I had seen and felt and known earlier that day. It was as if the Universe herself had turned up in my inbox to reflect to me the truth of that insight I was finally brave enough to own in my heart.

There is such wisdom and grace in the world when you open yourself to it.

Bless xoxo

Pomegranate, Kale and Sweet Potato Salad Recipe

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“Fun fact #1 about pomegranates: Pomegranates are awesome.
Fun fact #2: Pomegranates are like little explosions of awesome in your mouth.
Fun fact #3: A lot of people think you’re not supposed to eat the seeds of a pomegranate – but that’s not true, people who tell you that are liars, and they don’t know anything about life, and they should never be trusted.”
~ Tahereh Mafi

 

This is a tasty and nutritious salad that is also very visually appealing. You could enjoy it on its own, but I chose to serve mine as an accompaniment to roast lamb.

In truth, I’m in the middle of my planning summit, and I wanted an easy dinner that was quick to make. This was a winner on both counts. Plus, my garden is overflowing with kale right now, so I’m afraid it’s kale in EVERYTHING around here. :)

I’m quite in love with kale. You can read more about the many health benefits of this awesome leafy green here.

If you don’t have access to kale use spinach leaves or rocket (arugula).

This is also a terrific meal if you have Lyme disease or co-infections as the pomegranate is a great biofilm buster! Food as medicine, and so yummy too. It’s an idea that might catch on…

 

Ingredients:

3 cups of kale (leaf only – rib removed), seeds from one large pomegranate, 1/2 cup macadamia nut pieces, 1/2 cup of fetta cheese, 2 cups of sweet potato (any variety!) and a little olive oil or coconut oil for roasting.

Oil of your choice to dress salad – I used a lemon-myrtle infused macadamia oil.

Note: For a vegan version substitute the fetta for a vegan cheese or use avocado.

Method:

Preheat oven to moderate (180 degree oven – 350 degrees fahrenheit) and prepare a large tray by lining it with baking paper (Prevents sticking and saves on washing up later.) If you’re already cooking a roast or some other dish in the oven all the better!

Wash and dry the sweet potato and then cut into small chunks. Coat lightly with oil (I chuck all the pieces in a bowl, pour in a slug of oil and massage with my fingers to get the job done) and then place the pieces on your baking-paper lined tray. Place into the oven and cook until golden – about 40 minutes, depending on size of pieces.

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De-seed the pomegranate, and wash the arils (seeds) to remove any pith. Drain well and set aside.

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Wash and dry the kale leaves and then shred finely with a sharp knife.

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Cut or crumble the fetta cheese.

Toast the macadamia nuts over moderate heat in a dry frypan. Push them around with a spoon so that they cook evenly and don’t burn on one side. Watch them while you do this.(Note that some of mine got a bit toasty due to talking too much to Dana and not paying attention to my nuts!).  It only takes a few minutes but it’s worth doing as it gives a beautiful complexity of flavour.

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Place the shredded kale in a bowl and dump the hot roasted sweet potato on top.

Tip in the nuts and fetta cheese.

Now add the pomegranate arils. Toss together with a slug of your favourite oil.

 

Serve and enjoy!

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Last night’s dinner. Totally delish. :)2015-01-06 19.32.02

 

Talking to Dragons

“Always speak politely to an enraged dragon.”
~ Steven Brust, Jhereg

 

It’s after 3am. An odd time to be posting a blog. Still. I’m wide awake.

I might as well stay up now so that I can do my morning meditate soon, as is my daily practice.

It’s been one of those nights. The kind of night I’ve not had for a while. I guess Lyme wanted to remind me…

So I’ve lain awake all night, staring at the ceiling, roaming the house, trying whatever remedies I have to tame this pain beast. My body aches. Electricity arches down my limbs, and stabs behind my eyes. It feels as if someone has lodged an ice-pick in my skull and is twisting it violently. Random pain assails me. But it’s okay. I am becoming quite skilled as a Lyme Dragon Whisperer.

I’ve not quite got the dosage right on my latest drugs and herbs yet. Which include, of course, the dreaded Drug Number Four. Once again it’s giving me grief, and yet I know that the pain is bacteria dying, so I’m celebrating even as I want to scream. (I won’t though – too dramatic and it will wake Ben and the dogs!)

I’m hoping to slip back to bed after my meditation. I’m hoping that the meditation will take enough of an edge off, and combined with my massive exhaustion I’ll just fall right asleep.

Fingers crossed, hey?

Meanwhile I’m going to fly the night sky, and send you all some healing. I might as well be useful for something. Anyway, when I’m in that meditation place I am free of my body and its limitations. The pain is gone. It gives delicious respite.

Okay. I’m ready now.

I’ll see you in your dreams. Know that you are loved. xoxo

Image by Mike Rae

Image by Mike Rae

My Day’s Best Medicine

Image from BourilDesign.net

Image from BourilDesign.net

“Always laugh when you can, it is cheap medicine.”
~ George Gordon Byron

 

There is one thing Lyme has taught me that is well worth sharing. Some of the best medicine isn’t prescribed by a doctor.

Here’s some of my favourite medicine.

The smell of pine trees and sunshine.

2014-12-09 08.13.57Posies of sweet little flowers from the garden.

2014-12-07 09.22.40-2The promise of rain on the wind.

2014-11-25 17.50.57Company, love and cuddles, and a soft bed with clean sheets.

2014-07-23 16.20.12Homemade ginger kombucha in my favourite ballerina glass.

2014-05-16 10.33.18Nurse Bert, the ever faithful hound, keeping me company even when it would be more fun to be outside chasing cows or going on farm exploration adventures with Harry.

2014-01-27 20.23.30Good books, sun-bright mornings, the smell of the ocean, music, wind in the trees, friendship, kindness, meditation, the softness of nightfall, cups of tea, moonlight, laughter, afternoon naps, love.

All of these things help heal me.

Maybe they will work magic for you too.

Thinking of you and sending love, Nicole xx

l

PS: Here’s a lovely song about letting things be the way they are, from the inimitable Tim Minchin.

Lit up like a Lyme Green Christmas Tree

Image from Thinkstock

Image from Thinkstock

“You’ve gotta dance like there’s nobody watching,
Love like you’ll never be hurt,
Sing like there’s nobody listening,
And live like it’s heaven on earth.”
~ William W. Purkey

 

Well, you know by now that when I’m quiet there’s a good reason.

This time?

My doctor recommended a new combination of Lyme drugs.

Result?

A night of small seizures and a misbehaving brain.

The drugs are well prescribed, but the dose was too high and too many lyme bacteria and their associated friends died too fast, releasing toxins into my brain, after which I did that herx-induced shaky-limbed, sweat-soaked seizure dance all night.

I also woke with my voice totally gone.

Two days of sleep, no meds and lots of binding agents to remove all those toxins and I’m almost back to normal.

Normal for me, anyway. Normal right now is: my hands and feet are burning and yet strangely numb, there is a pain behind my ear that won’t shift, my vision is blurred in my left eye, I get intermittent stabbing pain in random parts of my body, feelings like electrical shocks get me up in the middle of the night, and after I eventually sleep I wake soaked in sweat. Don’t let it get you down though. I don’t. This is nothing compared to some of the Lyme-induced misery I’ve suffered.

It’s actually okay for me. I can deal with most of these problems, and it’s far better than where I was a year ago. Two years ago. Back then I was just this side of dead. My improvement since then has been legion. I mostly have a wide smile on my face. Because? Progress!

It humbles me, the power of these tiny critters who have wrought so much damage in my body. I no longer under-estimate them or think that simply taking drugs will be an easy fix.

While at the doctor’s on Monday I also got my latest bloods back. After two years of targeted high-dose antibiotics, herbs and essential oils I have the best blood and hormone levels and organ function I’ve enjoyed in decades. The upswing in my body is amazing. And I can feel it!!!

I can honestly say I’m winning now. Battle weary as I may be.

Best Christmas present ever! :)

But oh how sad that I have had to fight for thirty years to get a diagnosis, that lyme disease is still not acknowledged by most of the Australian medical community, and that effective treatment is something I continue to fight for rather than a right, as it is for so many other diseases and conditions.

If I must live in the Lyme Light, then at least let me help others to know that there is hope, that there can be healing, and that things will change. I will keep pushing for that change. Hang in there, Lymies!

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For more information on Lyme disease go to: 

Lyme Disease Association of Australia

Karl McManus Foundation Australia

Lyme Disease Association, Inc United States

The Canadian Lyme Disease Foundation

My Early Christmas Present

Image from securinvest

Image from securinvest

“I wandered everywhere, through cities and countries wide. And everywhere I went, the world was on my side.”
~ Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

 

Monday was my day off. A day to rest, sandwiched between two days of psychic work on either side. I am in Brisbane right now, and the plan was that Ben would be here and we would spend the day together, doing a little running around before I napped the rest of the day away.

But Ben needed to race back to the farm in the middle of the weekend heatwave, when a neighbour told us there was a problem with our water pump. And Monday morning Harry got injured in his fight with the stick and spent the day at the vet’s down near our farm, so I was stuck in Brisbane on my own.

Doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? And yet, on that day, with me stuck in suburbia, miracles happened.

I know it won’t sound very miraculous to you, but let me explain.

On Monday there were bills that needed to be paid, and forms that needed to be posted. I’d expected Ben would be there to help me, but he was busying helping Harry. Doing those chores suddenly fell to me. ‘Only if you’re well enough,’ Ben said. ‘We’ll work something out if you can’t do it.’

It needed to be done, so I did what any normal person would do. I got in the car and drove to Chermside – a nearby sprawling suburban shopping-mall.

Image by Jeff Camden

Image by Jeff Camden

 

I haven’t really driven very much for quite a while now. In fact I’ve driven only half a dozen times this year after two years of no driving at all. Lyme disease has robbed me of so much independence, and until recently congestive heart failure had made me unsafe behind the wheel. Even now I have a strong startle reflex and slow other reflexes. It takes all my concentration to drive, and it’s usually very stressful.

But Monday I was feeling stronger. Clearer. I got in the car and off I went, determined to get those jobs done.

At the shopping mall I found an easy park, and my tasks were completed in less than fifteen minutes.

I was just about to get in the car and go home when I realised…

I was out shopping ON MY OWN for the first time in five years.

For five years my darling husband has been at my side for every outing. This was the first time I’d had the chance to do a little Christmas Shopping on my own, without him right beside me.

Oh, the luxury of it all.

I stopped at a little cafe, the sort of place Ben would never go, and enjoyed some lunch while drafting up a list of things I’d like to buy. And then off I went, to look at shops that appealed to me.

I lingered at a place which sold aftershave and perfumes.

I dallied at a tea shop, smelling and tasting different blends and talking tea with the wonderfully informative staff.

I dawdled in a bookshop. At a toy store. At a supermarket.

All in all I spent nearly two hours out on my own.

It tasted like freedom. I had the best time!

On the way home, still feeling good, I called in at a friend’s house and we sat in her back yard and worked on my new website.

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That night, while I was waiting for Harry and Ben to come home I wrapped my stash of gifts and marvelled at how independent and outrageously liberated I was feeling.

Those wrapped gifts represent something profoundly significant to me.

My own little Christmas Miracle.

A returning wellness!

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