I’m enjoying a double header of hormones today. I’m in my luteal premenstrual phase which always leaves me tired and emotional. But I am also just letting go of the last bits of adrenaline and cortisol from my travels last week.
As the last bits of stress hormones drain away and my cyclical hormones flow in all I can feel is the weight of the world. I’m sure this dramatic phrasing is merely a function of the pounding hormonal migraine that always accompanies this time of my cycle.
If this all sounds a little foreign to you, Alisa Vitti’s life’s work has been to help women understand their hormonal cycles impact. I’m always looking for ways to hack my physical performance and health so I’ve been especially focused on pesky stress hormones.
Hopefully a little bit of salmon, some greens, and more rest will get me through it. And by next week I’ll be well on my way to peak creativity and energy. The lull will pass soon.
I don’t want to brag (that’s a lie for rhetorical flourish I am bragging), but I woke up with excellent biometrics today. My first instinct was that I should rush into a long “to do” list for the various priorities I have remaining in the month.
We think we can be a model for other western states looking to reclaim rights for their citizens from the government. I believe in individuals pursuing their own freedom as a long term incentive for growth.
The focus on long term incentives is key to understanding both my stance on individual freedoms and how I spend my own time.
Because I’ve got to turn this blog post around to why I was tempted to run into my immediate to do list but held myself to my routine.
I was reminded that my biometrics are good because I’ve been focused on core activities and processes that make my own “system” of incentives tick for my physiology.
I have to sleep, eat, exercise and otherwise take care of my body. If I simply responded to every dopamine hit and desire I had I’d be sick as a dog. I can promise you this is true as I live with a chronic condition I manage with good habits and some better living through chemistry.
I’d prefer we manage as many problems through good compounding longer term incentives. From building for a future that’s arriving to quickly to keeping our bodies from imploding. So get enough fiber, lift heavy things and build more housing.
I’m going to be nursing my husband through oral surgery recovery this week. He’s run out the clock on wisdom teeth and they all need to be removed.
We will miss a few obligations this week but such is the nature of medical need. Necessity doesn’t always come when you want it. If we don’t do it this week we’d be waiting till November for the next appointment. Such is getting medical care in this day and age.
I’ve been in a bit of a frenzy preparing as I myself have some medical issues that are chronic so if we are both fucked up physically it gets a little tricky to manage routines. Particularly because we live a little bit country these days in Montana.
I’ve gone down a deep rabbit hole of procedures for surgical recovery. I looked up standard operating procedures for inflammation and surgical recovery from every source I could find. I consulted with our doctors. I looked at risk factors.
You’d be surprised at how optimal procedures differ from the standard median recommended ones. The fear of overprescribing pharmaceuticals runs pretty rampant even when it’s clear that some protocols would be beneficial like say post surgery prophylactic antibiotics. The NIH, Mayo and Cleveland Clinics agree it’s a effective way of preventing complications related dry socket. The condition can turn into a painful infection that is relatively dangerous if it gets out of hand given it’s proximity to your brain.
But we can’t make an antibiotic standard operating procedure as it’s not technically necessary. Especially since we have prioritized using less antibiotics overall as a public health policy for the wider social good of preventing antibiotic resistant strains of bacteria. Good of the many versus good of the one. I’ll admit I’d be inclined to say that my husband deserves the Spock treatment even if it is illogical.
I’ve written out an hourly schedule for the recovery procedure I intend to follow. I won’t post it all here as it’s obviously not in my best interest to disclose it. It’s involved and intended to reduce inflammation and have the maximum pain management that is responsible so that my husband’s body can recover quickly with no unnecessary stress.
Proteins powder, bone broth and soft foods
It seems as if a lot of recovery comes down to simply retaining adequate electrolytes balance with enough liquid calories. You have to meet a macronutrient balance that gives enough protein to knit the tissues and not make the body think it’s resource constrained. Which is harder than it sounds when you can’t chew or even suck on a straw.
I’ve got a number of techniques to leverage from lymphatic drainage massage to the woo woo options to reduce stress and promote recovery and I intend to use all of them. And yes I’m available for nursing.
One of my friends at university was the sort of autistic who had total recall. He could tell you what neighborhood you lived in just from the zip code. It was an amazing party trick.
I lived at 80304 for a time. He would say ok well that’s obviously Colorado and this bit indicated Boulder and this bit suggests it’s actually the northern edge of it and I think you are in the neighborhood with the Ideal Market above Kalmia and oh I think it is “Old North Boulder.”
Now while he’s doing this bit with you he would obviously nudge your reactions for details. There are other neighborhoods in the zip code but he knew what to ask to guide you in because he saw the whole map.
You didn’t necessarily notice he was doing it because you couldn’t see it. But he saw the entire geography of it and could rotate it in. He just had that kind of mind.
I think a lot about it now as I start to notice more of how my mind works. I think I do a similar kind of social geography hat trick as my friend did. If you give me a few details about you, your background and your opinions I can telescope in very quickly on very specific social details you may not even clock about your own life unless you are very self aware.
I almost hesitate to discuss it as a super power as it can sound manipulative. The reality is more like a social courtesy to help you see the whole board of what you know about yourself and how you react to me in what you reveal. It’s a beautiful social dance and I enjoy making people feel comfortable expressing a story in a context that makes it easiest for them.
If I’m very good at my job I can then reverse this process. I can learn about who you are and what you really value and I can turn it to another angle so someone else who can’t do the social geography telegraphing in and out can see who you are. You might know the term code switching.
Imagine that but for some of the finer grades of social signaling. It is hard to do so because doing so usually has to do with coming to terms with the many ways in which you “pass” to fit into a life someone else told you to live. It’s rarely reflective of the whole picture. But sometimes because the world imposes systems, like my friends zip codes, which don’t always reflect the full reality. The map is not the terrain. The system is just a map.
And of course, the most famous remains the 5 stages of grief from Kübler-Ross’s “On Death and Dying,” the 1969 book in which she proposed the patient centered stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.
I was prepared to go through all of it. And I did. The shock was immediate as soon as I learned she had passed. I was angry she was gone. I asked why someone else couldn’t have been taken instead of her. I was sad to carry on with out her. Acceptance seemed distant.
But as I started to communicate my own feelings I recognized an emotion I wasn’t prepared to encounter so soon. I felt immense joy. Losing her overwhelming made me feel grateful for the joy she’d given me in my own life.
What incredible luck I had to be a part of her life and receive so many emotional gifts as a result. The freedom she encouraged in me gave me the capacity for boundaries and needs and wants I’d never accepted fully.
And then, even though I was prepared for the possibility, she was gone and I realized she had been right. I could accept things that I’d distrusted for so many painful decades.
One of the matriarchs in my life died this morning. I am devastated. Because, of course, you are devastated when you lose someone you love. To not know the pain of mortality is to not know your own humanity.
We spend so much of our lives in the art and literature of the human condition that we can sometimes forget we are actually living it out right now every single day.
Your own life is just as rich a tapestry of meaning anything Dostoyevsky ever wrote. Losing someone close to you who really lived their life occasionally gives you sparkling moments of crystalline clarity on what matters.
All of living is struggle. We find the boundaries of the world through trial and error. We find each other as we negotiate the rhythms of each other’s lives.
The old cunt had the balls to die on the summer solstice. She was extremely Swedish so on aesthetics grounds I feel happy about her moment of passing. Midsummer. What a witchy thing to do. I love it for her even as I am weeping.
The last thing she said to me was so poetic it almost makes me angry. She told me that she had repeated herself a lot across the years. I said I knew and I appreciated that she’d helped me learn the tunes by repeating the songs with me even as I stumbled to commit things to memory.
Her response? Now that you have sung the melody with me, you can sing it on your own. Which is a very beautiful good bye worthy of anything I’ve ever read in a book or seen on screen.
But also the fucking temerity of that woman to deliver folkloric wisdom on the way out. Our elders know a thing or two.
The singer lasts a season long, While the song, it lasts forever
Unknown (to me at least) folk song
May your solstice be as bright and true as mine. I will be trying to carry this tune on my own and if you like I’ll try to teach you to sing along with me. May we have a chorus of love songs on our longest day in the sun.
Everything feels weird and it’s hard not to notice. Is it a wrinkle in time? Have we torn the fabric of reality? Did some kid in Las Vegas see aliens? Is that the tug of the multiverse on the edge of your consciousness? Maybe it’s a demon. Maybe it’s some x-risk scenario with artificial intelligence.
My favorite theory floating is we are only just noticing some anti-gravity experiment gone awry back in the day because commercial artificial intelligence accidentally revealed too many conflicting data points. Despite the state controlled AI’s efforts to keep a lid on shit we just couldn’t keep the aliens, or a breakaway civilization, or the multiverse or the lizard people under wraps and have been preparing for the big reveal for a while. Except no one is paying attention because shit is chaotic and we’ve all got bills.
Alien asked a wojack if he is shocked. Wojack is too busy to contemplate extra terrestrial life.
Did something happen in the 1940s and we managed to keep it under wraps until Sam Altman and company triggered the Vulcans to show up? Sorry I’m overlapping too many pop culture touchstones with too many niche Silicon Valley personalities for just one conspiracy theory.
All I know is even Elon Musk is looking to hire a witch and head of propaganda. But as a chaos magician I only work for my own LPs, founders and my family so he’s got to look elsewhere.
Need a head of propaganda and witchcraft? I need more then cash
I am trying to practice detachment and still enjoy the present moment. A set of secondary side effects from an antibiotic are unpleasant in the extreme. But as the theme of throwback 90s hit “That 70’s Show” so effectively proclaims, “we’re all alright, we’re all alright!”
While it is true that what is in our body will show in our emotions, it’s perhaps more accurate to say that our emotions are showing up in body. A bio-emotive framework gives you more freedom to experience the full range of life without judgement.
I have done my nervous system exercises, I have treated the side effects as best I can with pharmaceutical intervention, I’ve rested quietly in a dark room, I’ve been outside to facilitate circadian rhythm return, I’ve eaten protein and I’ve stretched.
I’ve run the processes and routines that set me up for a good day because you don’t let one bad thing turn into a hundred bad things. Even as I’m experiencing unpleasant moments, I know I have to bear these smaller costs as an investment on a better tomorrow. It’s hard to hear that everything has a cost, sometimes too much of a cost, but being detached about the calculations helps. If something must be done it’s all alright. I promise.
A girlfriend asked me if it felt good to be home in Montana. I said I wasn’t sure as my soul hasn’t landed home yet. I think it might be somewhere over the Arctic at the moment.
She knows, now, absolutely, hearing the white noise that is London, that Damien’s theory of jet lag is correct: that her mortal soul is leagues behind her, being reeled in on some ghostly umbilical down the vanished wake of the plane that brought her here, hundreds of thousands of feet above the Atlantic. Souls can’t move that quickly, and are left behind, and must be awaited, upon arrival, like lost luggage.
I don’t feel like I’ve really landed yet even though I’ve been home for a full day. My body is going through various forms of blowback and regression as I resorted to Prednisone while in Europe.
Everything physical I do has a cost and nothing is higher cost than travel. I am bearing those costs at the moment. Blessedly the costs feel removed and remote as I am a perhaps disassociated as my soul may or may not be somewhere over Greenland.
So if you’ve not heard from me it’s because I’ve got a bit of soul delay with my jet lag. Or a bit of jet lag with my soul delay. You can expect reintegration soon.
Our bodies replace many of their nearly 30 trillion human cellsregularly. About 330 billion of those cells are replaced every day — that’s about 1 percent of all our body’s cells. Other cells, like the tiny ones in our gut, renew within a week.
I’m not much for dreams of eternal life. Chronic disease tends to give you a bit of appreciation for Sisyphus and the torture of daily physical embodied indignities. But give me the hope for constant change and you’ve got my attention. And yes I moved a lot as a kid who do you ask?
Doesn’t 1% renewal day seem both manageable and swift at the same time? It’s one of the recommendations I give to folks who are interested in biohacking. Change one variable by a small percentage every single day. Big changes come from compounding over time.
I’m not the same person I was yesterday. I’m not the same person I was a month ago. If I look at how much change I’ve undergone in just the last year it feels dizzying. If I consider how different June of 2023 Julie is from June 2022, I’m barely the same person.
I take solace in the 1% renewal. That even if this version of myself is suffering, I am building a future version of myself that compounds into better versions. Seems like we should be grieving a little every day doesn’t it?
