I say this to myself every single day.
"You,” he said, “are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain."
The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls , Emilie Autumn
The canary in the coal mine had its literal origins in the mining industry. In order to test for toxic gases, miners would lower a caged canary into a mine shaft. Bringing up a dead songbird meant humans wouldn’t be descending that shaft. The metaphor remains apt because, even today, some of us are the canaries–generally women and girls, many of whom don’t realize that via their extraordinary sensitivity they’re our sentinels for existing and new environmental crises imperceptible to the rest of us.
These canaries are the people who, when free of stress, are highly intuitive, can “feel” energies, and are extraordinarily sensitive to colors, textures, and sensations. Artists, writers, musicians, and poets of both genders generally fall into this group as well. These are the people reporting conditions such as multiple chemical sensitivities, the ones who first filed lawsuits for sick building syndrome, and the group that experiences side effects from even the lowest doses of prescription drugs. Because of their poor buffering system, canaries under relentless stress will develop depression and anxiety and stress-induced conditions like fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue syndrome, chronic headaches, and adrenal and thyroid gland exhaustion.
Read the whole article here: http://www.wholehealthchicago.com/5116/are-you-the-canary-in-our-coalmine/
There are many different invisible illnesses out there — diseases that don’t necessarily come with an outward sign that says “hey, I’m sick” to the world.
For some people with an invisible illness, the hardest part is friends and family…
About a month ago I did a food intolerance blood test and I am now only eating whole foods that my body can tolerate. I am off all 3 medications I took for CDH and migraine and I feel better now that I have ever felt in 15 years.
Completed by Jason at Cottage 13 in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada.
This is my third literary tattoo and sixth tattoo in total. It comes from the following W.B. Yeats poem, which has always been one of my favourites, but has developed special meaning for me recently:
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
I’d like this to be permanent.