Nimue Brown's Blog, page 3

Personal Update

(written by Nimue, written down by James)

Today I’ve put a video both on facebook and on patreon. Both are public and if you’d like to know more about what’s going on with me, can I point you this way https://www.patreon.com/posts/personal-update-134940067

For those of you who don’t want to watch a video, this is a medical update. I’ve talked a bit about issues with blood sugar so the sharper among you have probably figured out that I now also have diabetes. The video is basically me talking about that.

Mostly, patreon supporters are getting original content from me. I’m putting up stories and music, mostly as videos at this point, so there is still a stream of exclusive content, even though I can’t write books at the moment.

Contemplating Science

(spoken by Nimue, scribed by James)

The science I learned at school gave me the impression that the world makes a lot of sense. I had an understanding of a mathematically elegant universe that could be understood if you could get to grips with it. It seemed that everything could be made sense of. This was wrong, and has a lot of implications.

The sense of order in school age science gives the impression of coherence and structure. This makes it easy for some people to believe there must be intelligent design. The mathematically coherent world can seem like an argument for God. Unfortunately, when you dig into it, anything that looks tidy is only tidy because humans have made it so. If there’s a neat line dividing one thing from another, it’s because someone decided to draw it there. The further you get into actual science, the less tidy it looks, and the more things we cannot properly explain.

To make any kind of sense of the universe, we need to draw those lines, invent classifications, put things in boxes. We tell ourselves the most useful stories we can, but life is always messier than our ways of thinking about it. Gender is a good case in point here. that XX and XY biology most people encounter at school, is by no means the whole story. Biological gender is far more complicated than most people realise, and that lack of knowledge fuels misinformed political decisions.

Science is never separate from politics. It is always informed by culture. The questions we ask, the research that gets funding, the papers that get published, and the results that translate into headline news are not neutral. It isn’t morally neutral, or culturally neutral. The science we learn about at school tends not to include the history of why that research was done, and that can make a big difference. It also means that many people don’t grasp what science in action looks like, and we saw that play out in responses to covid. When you think science will give you certainty, scientific caution can feed conspiracy theories.

There’s always more to learn. I think the main thing is to know that. It’s when we mistake our ignorance for certain knowlege that we tend to get into trouble.

Experiencing the Summer

(spoken by Nimue, scribed by James)

One of the stranger losses this year has been the colour green. I can see green things close to me, but not when they’re further away. as a consequence landscapes now look like blurry black and white photos. This is quite weird, and emotionally impactful. On the druid front I’ve experienced the loss of green impacting on my sense of connection with the land and my relationship with trees. I’m hopeful that this will change, but it is making the summer really odd.

I can’t see the swifts. Fortunately, I can hear the enthusiastic shrieks of these wonderful summer migrants. I can’t see the house martins either, but I can hear them around their nests. Dragonflies are sadly invisible, but I can see butterflies, most especially cabbage whites. In the past I would have considered cabbage whites to be the least interesting butterfly, as they are common and not that exciting. However, as they are white, they are now the easiest butterfly for me to see, and have become a joy as a consequence. It’s funny how experience has changed my perspective about these and other creatures.

I can see something of the plant growth, at least the height of it. Some flowers are visible, but smaller ones are not. It’s a strange mix of presence and absence. I’m focussing on what I can connect with and that will have to do. I’m advantaged by the depth and breadth of experience I have to draw on, and once again, find myself glad of the work of previous years. My limited perceptions can be made best use of thanks to the knowledge I already have. You never know what might turn out to be an advantage!

Not Admitting Defeat

(created by Nimue, written down by James)

Quite a few people have said kind and encouraging things about me managing to be out and about. Despite this years challenges, I’ve managed gigs, talks, and attending events. While I have no objection to being seen as slightly heroic for doing this, there’s a lot more to it. I think some of this is important to share.

While this year has been the toughest of my life so far, it’s not the first time I’ve faced daunting setbacks. The one thing I’ve learnt along the way is that admitting defeat is a sure-fire way of losing. Sometimes quitting is a good idea. There’s a lot to be said for knowing when you’re beaten, and when to give up. At the same time, being persuaded to give up can mean life getting very narrow and miserable. I’ve always been good at making the best of things and I know the value of being stubborn. Sometimes you have to pick your fights. Knowing what’s truly important makes it feasible to decide what to keep and what to let go.

Like most people, I’m innately sociable. Getting out has become technically difficult, thanks to the loss of eyesight and other health challenges. The first few attempts were genuinely scary, but I learn as I go and get better with practice. I’ve got the hang of the walking stick, and how to walk more safely. I’ve learned some routes and places well enough to make them a bit easier. I could not bear to give up events on top of what I’ve lost, and as I get a vote, I’ve put up a fight over this one.

That I have been able to get out at all has everything to do with the amount of support I get. Friends and event organisers have been brilliant. Staff at venues have been kind and helpful. Accessibility information on websites makes a lot of odds. most importantly, I’ve had tremendous support from my partner Keith and my son James. Thanks to them I’ve been able to move safely through difficult and unfamiliar places. their help and determination make all things possible. I’m hugely grateful.

As with most things, what options we have depend a lot on other people. I acknowledge the privilege of love and support that not everyone gets. It’s hard to make good choices if you don’t have good options. If you do have options, don’t let go of what matters most to you. Put up a fight for the things that your heart needs, for the things your soul can’t do without. There aren’t many hills worth dying on, but that’s definitely one of them. A life without the things that bring you joy and meaning is not a life you will find worth living.

Community and Resilience

(spoken by Nimue, scribed by James)

People who suffer from depression tend to also experience loneliness, alienation and feelings of disconnection. For me, this sued to include a terrible hollowness as well. At this point, I feel that depression is an absence of essential body chemistry. Something biological is absent when we get in that state. I’ve noticed this year what a huge difference warmth and kindness make to me at a bodily level.

It would be fair to say that this year has been the toughest I’ve ever experienced. However, it’s not been the worst one for depression, and the difference has everything to do with warmth and support. I feel kindness in my body as a sense of wholeness and comfort. It works, no matter how grim things get. Resilience is something we can make together, I have no doubt about it. We’ve evolved to be communal creatures so it makes sense that our wellbeing is informed by our relationships.

I’ve taken to adding attention to kindness to my regular gratitude practice. I make a point of reflecting on the kindness shown me, and I find that revisiting it also has a bodily impact. Kindness doesn’t have to be dramatic. The small everyday acts of care get a lot done. We can insulate each other from life’s trials through these small things. A warm word, or a friendly gesture makes a lot of odds. Recent experiences have confirmed for me how important kindness is as part of my Druidry.

That said, I believe in social contracts, so there are limits. I don’t respond kindly to active cruelty, nor do I think anyone should. Communal resilience is about looking after each other, not taking advantage of each other.

Druidry and Self Knowledge

(caveat, Nimue spoken, James written)

For me, the quest for truth has always been an important part of my path as a druid. Self knowledge is part of that quest, but also really difficult. How do any of us know who we are? We all get constant feedback from others about how they see us. Our cultures bombard us with information about who we are supposed to want to be. Everything we encounter we see through the filters of experience, cultural bias and belief. Working out what’s real is never easy.

People who experience a lot of privilege can often have unrealistic views about their own capabilites and significance. Equally, people who struggle can suffer from lack of self worth. Experiences including poverty, disability discrimination trauma, and lack of opportunity persuade many people that they have little or no worth. Most of us get a mix of feedback from which to try and make sense of who we really are.

I’ve struggled with this one. On the one hand, are the people who feedback with warmth and encouragement. On the other hand, there are the people who have persuaded me that I’m some sort of monster. Much of my anxiety over the eyars has been rooted in not feeling confident that I could trust myself. How is a person to tell whether they are delusional or in what way? Caught between radically different and incompatible stories about who I am, I’ve never felt entirely confident about any of it.

Last week, I went through a scary medical procedure for which I had to be sedated. Partway through, the sedation started wearing off, and I had to ask for help. At this point, I was a bit shit-faced, had no filters, almost no capacity for self control or self regulation. I was also panicking, and aware that a full blown panic attack was a dangerous outcome we needed to avoid. What emerged, was me expressing distress, and asking for help. Along with that, I had the overwhelming urge to express gratitude to the medical team taking care of me. Of rage, cruelty, or other problematic behaviour, there was no sign when I was most exposed and most unable to manage myself. I may have caused some slight embarrassment. I can live with that. For me, this is a rare piece of evidence that I’m not so intrinsically awful that I can’t even overcome it with effort. Me in extremis is apparently me oversharing my gratitude. I know this story would do nothing to persuade the people who have decided I’m terrible. Once you think someone is peddling lies and is manipulative, anything they say becomes further proof of that, so there are some fights I can never win. What I can do is know for myself that at my most vulnerable, the worst thing I did was awkwardly gush. this in turn raises a lot of questions for me, and opens up some difficult things that I will have to work on.

I don’t recommend anything this extreme as a route to self knowledge, but at the same time I’m a big fan of making what use you can of the opportunities that come along.

Medical Updates

(spoken by Nimue, transcribed by James)

I wasn’t sure if I’d be equal to a post today. Yesterday involved laser surgery and cataract surgery under sedation and I had no idea how the sedatives would affect me. Today I find I am very tired and a bit sore, which isn’t too bad. There is more surgery yet to come.

I’m coping pretty well with the medical side of the interventions, I’ll spare you the gory details. What I’m struggling with are more personal panic triggers that can’t be avoided in the context of doing the treatment, hence the sedatives. The medical team taking care of me have been brilliant about this. They’ve listened to what I struggle with, and have not asked me to explain why. That of itself is really helpful. About the worst thing you can do for someone with a trauma history is make them revisit it. I have suffered a lot in the past with prolonged and violent panic attacks. Obviously, when people are trying to do surgery to your eyes, flailing about with a panic attack is not an option. The sedatives were really helpful. It’s comforting to know that I have options. Being listened to is of itself really powerful.

While I was in the operating room, struggling with the things that panic me, I had a clear sense that the medical team around me were my allies in dealing with all of that. They were kind, distracting and compassionate, which makes worlds of difference. In many ways, the best cure for panic is kindness, although the drugs really help. I’ve learned a lot from this about my own scope for asking for help, and just how different things can be when I am believed and supported.

I feel less fearful about the prospect of future operations because of that kindness, and my confidence that I can expect to be supported.

We Choose Who We Are

(Spoken by Nimue, written by James)

Back when I was at college, psychologists were still trying to work out if nature or nurture does most most to define who we are. Either way, that’s a pretty limited choice, suggesting we are mostly the products of how we start in life, which is a bit depressing. Since then, the role of the environment has been recognised as more influential than the genes we start out with. We also know that brains are not defined wholely in our early years. We all have the scope to grow and change. The environments we experience will shape us through our lives. Psychology now also recognises that our own choices inform how our brains grow and change through our lives.

Some experiences will rob you of choice. Illness, disability and trauma can remove a person’s scope to choose, at least while those things are happening to us. How much privilege you have also informs the choices open to you in the first place, so we don’t all have the same array of options, and some of us are sorely limited about when we get to make choices. A trauma legacy can keep throwing you into experiences where your own ability to choose is badly compromised, but even so, if you have any access to your own brain, you have some scope for choice. Every choice we make informs future choices available to us and shapes who we are.

It might be tempting to think about this in terms of drama and major life decisions. In practice, the choices that shape who we are are the tiny ones we barely notice but make all the time. The choice to be kind or mean. The choice to try or give up. The choosing of hope or succumbing to despair. These can be very everyday choices and form the bulk of what’s happening inside our brains. We craft the physical structures of our minds with the choices we make. We’re all limited by the options we have, but most of us get a vote on at least some part of who we are.

One of the great things about brains is that they never lose some capacity to change. If you’re alive, and able to read this, then you’ve got options. You can choose to change at any time, and for any reason. Some changes take a lot of work and are neither quick nor easy, but we can pick how we want to be in the world. We can think about our feelings, what we prioritise and value. We get to choose. There’s something of the everyday miracle in that, which fills me with hope. It’s never too late.

Barriers to Healing

(Designed by Nimue, crafted by James)

This year has required me to question some of my beliefs and look hard at internalised obstacles to healing. I’m going to share something of that because I know it’s not just me.

I used to think that I was a hypochondriac, melodramatic and prone to making a fuss. That meant I got quite ill before I realised that I was actually quite ill. I didn’t get there on my own. My initial expectations were that people wouldn’t believe how ill I was feeling or how bad things were. It took me a while to persuade myself that going blind would not be dismissed as melodrama or all in my imagination. All of the healthcare professionals I have seen have been kind, helpful and supportive. I’ve been through some medical procedures that demonstrated that apparently I’m quite tough. That’s been a lot to learn. I’ve had to radically revise who I think I am, and in light of that, revise what I think about some aspects of my past.

One of the issues I know I am not alone in is struggling with ideas of worth. When suffering seems deserved, it’s really hard to ask for help. When you don’t feel worthy, it’s hard to ask to have needs met. This is a difficult thing to push through, and something I’m still working on. At the same time, I’m supporting someone else with parallel issues around lack of self worth, which has taught me a great deal. I can’t imagine telling another person they do not deserve help or kindness in face of illness. I need to work on being kinder to myself. This is, in essence, trauma legacy in both cases. Certain kinds of trauma inherently damage your sense of self, and that’s a hard thing to heal.

Healing takes time. It takes resources, effort, attention and money. Time spent on healing is not being spent on other things. I’ve always struggled with that one, and spent many years feeling like anything, everything else was more important than me being well. This year’s crisis has been so dramatic that I haven’t had any options. That in turn has left me a lot of time to reflect on my own attitude to myself and my own needs. I think I’ve got some work to do on that score.

In many ways, healing is not easy. Physically, it can mean going through tough things to have some hope of getting better. Emotionally, it tends to mean grappling with very difficult things. It’s not a smooth process. However, it is a vital one, and sometimes, we all need to be able to say that it’s the most important thing we could be doing right now.

Midsummer

(Spoken by Nimue, Scrawled by James)

Back in the winter, I finally learned why today is called midsummer. I’ve been excited about this for ages. It turns out that the Saxons only had two seasons – winter and summer, at which point today being midsummer actually makes sense!

At this time of year, blackbird song at sunset is particularly rich and audible. I feel that the blackbirds are probably singing some kind of lyrical hymn to the beauty of the day and the wonder of existence. I’m blessed with a lot of blackbird neighbours. I’m also blessed with a jackdaw roost. They tend to come in around sunset and are a noisy lively bunch. While I think the blackbirds are probably sharing something poetic, my feeling is that the jackdaws are probably sharing terrible puns and “your mum” jokes, then laughing uproariously at each other.

One of the things I’ve always loved doing in the summer is walking at twilight and after dark. There’s something very special about feeling the night on my skin. I loved encountering bats, owls, foxes and others. Obviously, this year is difficult, I really can’t see much in low light levels. However, it turns out that with a familiar smooth path, and a lot of help, I can get outside at twilight. It’s been very emotional for me, and I feel very blessed not to have lost this part of the year. I’m learning to deal better with the darkness I live in, and how to walk when I can’t see the ground. There’s a lot of trust involved.