Just to mention again, that word: "Treibh", Gaelic for tribe, spoken to you by an opalescent humanoid who came out from under the trees the other night, almost coincidental with a lunar surge, seems something John Lash might regard as a "Terma", or spiritual treasure. That the phantom figure said something to the effect that, "I will go and get the treibh", if my pronunciation is anywhere near the mark, seems significant in the context of a 'De Danaan' quest in the company of the host of nocturnal breathing trees. That being said, all the more so the experience itself.
So what's 'a cistercian chronicle' got to do with it?
Merely, this being a random chronicle of my visit to the doctor with a long term cyst which, common as they are, and after twelve years, suddenly decided to go chronic. Or at least inflamed. Having the effect of my back suddenly feeling as if i'd fallen asleep on the Costa Del Sol, lost in a good book.
I sat in a waiting room for half an hour, being the first to arrive, even before the doctor. Waiting rooms! The walls always covered with advertisements for cancer and what you must do to not have to think about it. Along with the equally typical framed print of an oil painting of a boat at sea being ravaged by a storm. Waiting rooms are designed to put people at ease of course.
But for anybody who easily gets sea sick, you should take a wee drop of rescue remedy to see you through the surgery and what e'er maybe tide.
The female doctor was quite pleasant, my usual doctor being away till next friday. Hope he's well. The last time i saw a doctor was twelve years ago, for the same thing. I rarely ever see a doctor anyway. I just assumed they've mastered the art of invisibility.
All pleasant and relaxed, we talked freely with no hierarchy. I always expect unconsciously, to be reprimanded for being a renegade and prescribed a bottle of arsenic. She had a look at my back and said "it's red". I wasn't sure what colour it was as i had some difficulty looking, even with a mirror, without dislocating my neck to top it off.
I was frank (not what my friends call me) saying, quite casually that i had no intention of ingesting anything pharmaceutical as i never get sick anyway.
I did mention 'black salve', which had been suggested, which she hadn't heard of , so promptly Googled it. "How would you spell 'salve'?" She asked. So i spelled it. Like 'god save the queen with an 'L'.
"Oh", she said, and we agreed, not to go there. "Burns away the tissue leaving a black hole as a scar". Haha no, worse than a holiday in Calcutta, i mused. We talked quite freely about homeopathy with no raised or lowered eyebrows, as i have a friend who is also a friend of hers, who recommended her to me, who is a certified escaped homeopath. I did point out that 'silica' is good and had worked miraculously for me on occasion.
Also mentioned how i'd totally healed another cyst , also twelve years ago by putting one of those ' foot patches' with herbs and minerals in it, the names of which escape me. But they effectively draw out toxins from the whole body , or according to which area of the sole you put it on. Did that for a week and it never since came back.
I enquired about the wisdom or efficacy of having it drained. A minor operation she said. But no guarantee it wouldn't return.
So, me, not being a pharma's boy at heart, and not wishing to drink anything, she prescribed me some anti- inflamatory ointment.
I thanked her for the nice talk, said something funny about the weather and went and got the prescription filled and bought some silica tissue salts.
I haven't used the ointment yet, but i'd say my excellent immune system will know how to process it. I took a magnifying glass to the ingredients noting the familiar poetic use of similar sounding mysterious words.
I won't say you couldn't make it up. You can. Sounds, like, for example:
' Dodecohedroessoconocol' , or, 'Propellocarbonettaccellerate,'
'Hioctoisomorphil', 'BP-sodium-oil of orleanicorexitdesecrate'. To rename a few. It's like, when the Earth (herself) is inflamed, throw on some paraffinol, or anything 'propyl' is appropriate to properly propel the profligate parasite into perpetual proliferation. There should be a treaty about that.
Maybe i should have asked the pharmacy for some corefixit.
Apparently, Kevin Costner, as himself and not John Dunbar, in his entrepreneural business capacity donated thousands of dollars worth (i forget how many) of revolutionary equipment which would have cleaned up the gulf 'spill' and they, that is 'they', neglected to use it! Talk about Dances with Wolves' !
Before i further digress and start reading ingredients in reverse trying to crack the encrypted code, (nearly did.) Needless to say, my most recent experiments with a cheapo camera, photographing my rambling roses with a flash of inspiration in the wild, wet, and windy night, was a great idea. The vivid visualization of the outcome may well have been better spent in sketching and extrapolating imaginatively. Often the case. Besides, they printed all of them backwards. One particular shot of staked roses, bears no colour reference to reality. In that it consists solely of graded shades of red, yellow, and light lilac. None of which exist in the subject photographed.
Strangely, it has potential as a painting, were i to be motivated sufficiently to enact the disciplines involved in manifesting the rarely seen but imaginatively conceived. But i never know what i might do. It's like a kaleidoscope. Changing daily.
However, i'm laid back about it. Either with a cushion, or horizontal, on my left side for the time being. Oh, must take some more silica...
Could conceivably be, in this current phase of Gaia-Sophia's halfway point of 'correction', we are imaginatively challenged to find effective ways to purge. As the macro, so the micro, which are not two. Obviously.
Or maybe it's the lunar surge. As well as the scorpio/pluto connection.
And so this ramble disperses like a fractal needing no actual ending.
Being anything but a Cistercian i go attend to more mundane anomalies, and better watch my back.>>>>>>>>+<<<<<<<< Rainbowmaker~
artwork : Rainbow Bridge, martin law, 2002
Indian Sunrise, martin law, August 2003
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