YES HELLO, Reader!!!

Here I am in real TIME, reemerged from the internal realms ov introspection endured at my 10 day silent Vipassana meditation sojourn. How wonderful to be HOME. How splendid to have survived the psychic surgery. I hope you had a profound and tangibly transitional Equinox, Reader. The tipping ov the seasonal scales is such a sacred TIME. We exist in tandem with divine oscillations. I adore the cycles ov our natural world and the interwoven ways the movement ov spacetime and matter effects ALL things. What a blessing to be alive on this magical planet.

I am eager to tell you ALL about my TIME spent away and the insights I received, so I am going to jump right into it! ARTE to follow, ov course! Always ARTE! But first, story TIME.

Firstly, I absolutely choked on my hubris and expectations. Going into it I thought that my experience would be much easier since I am sober and not in crisis this TIME 'round. I thought that since I am a better version ov myself than I was 10 y-eras ago that it would be easier. I was dead wrong. When I went 10 y-eras ago I had such a profound and transitional experience. Every day felt like a milestone. In retrospect, I realize this is largely due to the fact that I was detoxing from cigarettes, weed and alcohol and hadn't been sober for 10 daze straight since I went to rehab for IV opiate abuse ~5 y-eras prior. ((The rehab I went to was a state-run free rehab program, so, it was essentially jail. I don't want you assuming I had one ov those luxury rehab experiences. I got scabies and everything. It was HELL.)) It had been 5 entire y-eras that I was drunk every day and OV COURSE I would feel like I was having breakthrough after breakthrough at a 10 day Buddha Bootcamp because I was tasting my sober mind for the first TIME in ages.

This go 'around was a deeper operation chock full ov vicissitudes and challenges. I went in feeling so fit in my body thanks to the daily morning pilates routine I started in early January, but was rudely awakened to the harsh truth that simply sitting cross-legged with an erect spine was excruciating after mere minutes. How was something seemingly so simple so painful? It wasn't until the last couple daze that I was able to sit for an hour without shuffling my body in some way due to the extreme pain in my back and shoulders. I kept wanting to ask the assistant teacher if I could get a back support like many ov the other women had, but I did not have any good excuse. I was not pregnant or elderly or plagued with any preexisting injury (with the exception ov some slight scoliosis that I learned was a lot less slight a few y-eras ago when Justin, who is quite accustomed to seeing my naked back, notified me that the lateral C-curvature is actually visible.) I am glad that I persisted and slowly managed to train my body to sit still, erect and unsupported for an hour. That alone felt like a feat.

I also went in feeling fit in my mind thanks to my complete sobriety and new daily self-discipline practices, but was rudely awakened to the fact that I could not even last a few breaths without my mind wildly wandering. I felt fatigued from the incessant instances I had to reel my thoughts in to concentrate on the sensations ov my respiration-- the sole task at hand for the first 3 days before the actual Vipassana technique was taught. Oh, how my mind wandered! Oh, how I spiraled into the weirdest thoughts and urges. The invasive urge to scream or do something wildly inappropriate in the meditation hall led me to fantasize about a Vipassana course given to people suffering from Tourette's Syndrome. I tried to relearn how to multiply 2 different 3 digit numbers by working backwards from easier equations that I knew to be correct. I actually figured it out. I taught myself mental multiplication math until I realized I wasn't there to revisit my elementary school traumas, I was meant to be focusing on my breath. I mentally rewrote a few popular pop songs from my youth and made parodies about my postural plight. The thought that I had to reel myself back from most often was what I wanted to write to YOU regarding my experience. I kept composing this very Transmission in my mind day after day, and the message kept morphing with each passing day as I experienced more and went deeper. Oh, how it pained me not to have a creative outlet or avenue to document my thoughts!

The most bewildering vicissitude was getting sick on the 5th day. For the first two days ov my illness I thought I was dealing with seasonal allergies due to my snot being clear. I had been taking allergy pills every day ov my stay since the Spring has been a notorious snot festival for me in recent y-eras. I thought that the trusty allergy pills that had never failed me in the past had finally lost their efficacy. The relentless rains had cleared on the 4th day and I thought that since the water droplets were no longer keeping the pollen count low, that I was experiencing the truth ov how poorly I manage existing in Nature. I was tormented by the notion that not only was my body & mind waging a war on me, but beloved Nature was ALSO brandishing her weapons against me. I spiraled into despairing thoughts about how my DREAM to one day live in Nature to garden and shepherd goats was unattainable. How delighted I was on the third day ov sickness while walking to the meditation hall, once again blowing my nose into the rough tissues provided in our living quarters, to see a massive green, blood-lined abortion jiggling in the tissue. Eureka! I was actually ILL!

Let me tell you something, Reader. Having to mentally exist solely in your nose while your nose is broken for hour after hour ov silent meditation in a group sitting is TORTUROUS. Not only was I unable to breath properly, with throbbing headaches and a sore throat, but I was wildly aware that my whistling nose was likely a disturbance to ALL the healthy meditators surrounding me. My sneezes and sniffles and snorfalings were deafening against the group silence. I felt the red heat ov embarrassment and shame on my face. There was no escape or distraction or disassociation from my circumstance. The painful awareness ov my plight was maddening. Doubly so because we were drilled to remain EQUANIMOUS about ALL things. With every iota ov aversion to my illness I was strengthening the shackles to my mortal misery chains. We were implored to not have any cravings or aversions to anything. We HAD to have a balanced mind about ALL things otherwise we were not making any progress, adversely we were "doubling up our misery." I felt like I lost 4 entire days ov progress due to my head cold. It wasn't until the 9th day out ov the 10 that I was able to breathe somewhat normally again. Being able to breathe seems so mundane until you are unable to do so with ease. I have newfound appreciation and gratitude for my healthy oscillating breathe and clear nasal passages.

Speaking ov Nature, she was my greatest teacher and MUSE on this journey. It ALL started on day 0 when we arrived and I was delighted to see SO MANY WORMS. As you probably know, I often refer to GOD being a WORM, so I felt like it was a beautiful animal omen to be greeted by GOD Herself. Many had wriggled their slimy bodies onto the paved thoroughfares outlining our living quarters and I immediately got to work on what I later mentally dubbed "Worm Patrol." I carefully relocated and rescued the worms from the pathways so that those who may not be looking where they were walking wouldn't inadvertently smash GOD under their heavy footsteps. I relocated many multitudinous worms during the mostly rainy days while at the meditation center, not caring what onlookers thought ov my odd behavior. I felt like it was a sacred mission. I felt like I was preserving GOD with each noodley relocation.

On one instance I was walking on the field Nature paths during a break and saw the strangest sight in the damp earth. At first I thought it was a snake because the circumference ov the cylindrical body was so thick, but the coloring was that ov a worm and the terminating ends ov the creature were both hidden in the mud. What was weirdest was the stark bilateral bifurcation running the length ov the body. I crouched down and gently poked the mystery creature and was shocked when two worms quickly slurped into their respective holes that were 6 inches apart. THEY WERE MATING! I had disturbed the hermaphroditic copulation ov two large earthworms. How rude ov me! Days later I came across a similar scene and was able to crouch down and observe the worm sex without committing coitus interruptus. I could clearly see the thick, creamy, ejaculate ooze coating their clitellums. They were 69ing. I remembered from my middle school science class worm dissection lab that each ov the worms had little male orifices near their heads that released spermatozoa and little female orifices that released eggs. The gooey clitellum substance was a slime tube that would create a cocoon for the freshly fertilized reproductive concoction where it would be deposited in the mud to later spawn baby worms. Fascinating. What a sight to behold!

Nature provided so many fascinating sights and taught me a valuable lesson. During our videotaped meditation discourse we would watch each evening (not sure why it was called a "discourse" as it was certainly a lecture and not a two-way conversation,) we were drilled that everything is changing and to notice ALL the changes happening within without having craving or aversion to any ov our physical sensations. I realized that the same was undeniably apparent in Nature. It really hit hard when one day I was walking and saw the brightest white albino squirrel. She had piercing red eyes and was so drastically juxtaposed against the rainy, dark, damp forrest that I worried about her survival from avian predators and wondered how she maintained such a pristinely clean white coat. I followed her as she jumped from tree to tree and observed her intently, feeling elated from the magic ov her rarity, until she disappeared beyond the visibility ov my path boundaries. The next day I made sure to go back out at the same TIME in hopes to see her again. I was craving a repeat sighting. Ov course I didn't see her. Instead, the family ov deer that LIVE on the property were present for me to admire.

It became so apparent from then on that you can not hold any expectations ov Nature, you can only head out with your heart and eyes open to receive whatever blessings and omens she has for you. Every day Nature was different. The rain, the skies, the stars, the plants, the puddles, the animals, the insects, the winds, the water in the creek, the clouds, the sounds, the colors, the sensations, and the messages. One may look out at a pastoral, tree-lined plot ov land and think that it is a static thing. Nay, my friend. Nature is always morphing just as we are always morphing. Nature has so many treasures and lessons. I started heading out each day during our breaks to engage with Nature with an open heart and listening inside for her to guide me. With a quiet mind I would allow her to tell me which path to take and when to stop and be still and look around. Utilizing this method, I would always discover something special. A small yellow and black striped snake sunbathing in the thick grass. An ant hill undulating with thousands ov ants crawling over each other. A tiny abandoned snail shell that I carefully collected as my Nature souvenir. A blue jay. A bunny. A bee. On the final day, a dead robin by the door, an omen ov transformation and rebirth. Nature is magical and communing with her felt paramount to my introspective experience.

The deer on the property are so accustomed to silent humans who have taken an oath not to kill that they allow you to get within 10 feet ov them before they casually begin to walk away to create some comfortable distance. It felt extraordinary to be that close to a normally skittish wild animal. I would stand and observe them, listening to the crunching sounds ov their grass-munching and ponder their preferences as they would move, seemingly randomly, grazing on one grassy spot, then another. To me the grass seemed uniform, but there was obviously a favorable difference between the numerous blades from the perspective ov the majestic deer who moved with tranquil intention. I watched their large ears swivel as they listened to the various sounds in the surrounding land. When the crows flew over head cawing, they ALL stopped eating to watch and listen as if they understood the language ov the corvids. Once again, I fell in LOVE with Nature and I honor her power and beauty.

When I went to the Vipassana meditation center 10 y-eras ago I blindly accepted the philosophies presented to me as universal truths. I was so desperate for healing that I ate it up in totality without question. This TIME around I found it difficult to accept the cosmology that was being presented as truth. Now that I have been blessed with my own intimate insights about the Nature ov Reality that resonate with undeniable gnosis in the fiber ov my being, I mentally struggled with the Buddhist perspective. They believe that every instance that you have a craving or aversion to something you are creating a sånkāra, which is essentially a misery bubble that resides in your being and multiplies your shackles to Samsara-- chaining you to suffering. They say you are supposed to develop equanimity to ALL things in order to liberate yourself. You are not meant to have preferences to anything sensual. No preference for sight, sound, taste, smell, or bodily sensation. No reaction to emotions or thoughts. They want you to kill ALL your passions and imaginations and desires. The conclusion I came to for myself is... I am an ARTIST, damnit. My passions and aesthetics are sacred. I am driven by my NEED to CREATE. My soul is most fulfilled and my mind most at ease during the sacrosanct act ov creation. My aversions to things teach me about my personal core values and morals. My seeds ov desire manifest themselves in my future reality and without them I would not have such an abundantly blessed and charmed LIFE. I do not believe that sitting in lotus pose on a meditation mat for the majority ov my LIFE is honoring that scared gift that IS LIFE. KALI MAA told me to go out and play in her garden and enjoy the sweet fruits ov LIFE and to utilize my creative imagination. She showed me that this LIFE is MEANT to be FUN, that laughter is a sacred tool, and that we were ALL born with the ability to create and LOVE. I was NOT put on this planet to be an ascetic; I was put on this planet to be an aesthetic.

After the evening discourse on the 8th day when students are allowed to individually sit in front ov the assistant teachers and quietly ask them questions about the technique, I waited until everyone else had their TIME with the teachers and then I approached the female adviser for the first TIME. I whispered, "What about gratitude? Do we create sånkāras when we experience gratitude?"
She, a non-native English speaker, did not understand my inquiry and turned to the male teacher on the cushion some distance to her right side and asked, "Can you help?"
He agreed and I crossed the invisible boundary separating the males from the females in the meditation hall.
I repeated my question. "What about gratitude? Do we create a sånkāras when we experience gratitude?"
He said, "Yes."
My heart dropped. How could gratitude possibly multiply my misery?
He went on to say, "When you experience gratitude it probably arises as some pleasant sensation in your body. Do not cling to it. Just observe."
"Yes, I feel gratitude in my heart. It feels sacred. I have a hard TIME accepting that gratitude is somehow wrong."
"Well, it IS a wholesome sånkāra."
A wholesome sånkāra? What the fuck. My mind exploded into confusion and bewilderment. This whole TIME we were told that sånkāras were the metaphysical manifestations ov our misery. The chains to our suffering. This felt like such a contradictory phrase-- wholesome sånkāra. What in the actual Hell. I put my hands together at my third eye and bowed to thank him for his TIME and went to my room to retire until the 4am wake-up gong. My mind ablaze, I stayed up for hours pondering the exchange that just transpired.

The next morning, after our 9th day 6:30am breakfast, I quietly asked Yuji, the course manager, if I could be granted permission to speak to Sandeep again, the male instructor whom I spoke with the night prior. She went through the proper channels and later told me that after the group meditation from 8-9am that I was permitted to approach him and ask my questions. And so it went.
"Sandeep, thank you for agreeing to speak with me again. I have some follow up questions regarding gratitude. Look, I realize that gratitude could be considered craving in disguise. Like if we were grateful for receiving the things we had been craving. But, in my instance, I am very grateful for my pain. Pain has been a great teacher to me. Pain is the reason I am sober. What if I reframed it as loving acceptance and thankfulness for ALL that IS, without preference? Would that still create a sånkāra?"
"Yes. Pain IS a great teacher, but gratitude still creates sånkāras and is not something you should attempt to generate. It probably feels like a pleasant sensation in your body. Just observe it. Do not react. Do not feed into it. Do not multiply it. Just observe. Remain equanimous"
"Okay, well, I am really struggling with the term 'equanimous.' To me equanimity is synonymous with apathy. Where is there room from LOVE and compassion in apathy?"
"No, no. We do not teach apathy. Apathy means to not care. We WANT you to care. We want you to care starting with your body. To be equanimous means to have a balanced mind."
"Okay, thank you for clearing that up, because I do not believe it is healthy to cultivate apathy. That is a relief. Thank you for your TIME."

Whether or not the topic ov apathy had been mildly cleared up (I still struggled with how having a balanced mind feels like not caring one way or the other,) I was still so hung up on the idea that gratitude wasn't a favorable action. Our exchange became doubly bewildering during the discourse on the 10th and final night when Goenka, via the 1991 video recording, told us that there are two yardsticks to measure your progress on the path ov Vipassana. The first is your desire to serve and help others. (Contradictory, as we were told to kill ALL our desires.) The second being.... are you ready for this, Reader? I wasn't. The second yardstick to measure your progress on the path was your feeling OV GRATITUDE. DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK?!? Why had Sandeep, someone who has undoubtedly sat through this very same video multiple dozens ov times as an assistant teacher ov this philosophy & technique, told me that gratitude was something to be avoided when it is presented as one ov the two yardsticks in which to measure your progress on the path ov Vipassana? Nothing was adding up. What a wonderful lesson in being weary about whom you seek advice from and if the advice feels wrong in your heart & gut to unceremoniously dismiss it without wasting many multiple minutes ov meticulous mental mulling.

One more important insight before I put a pleasant pin in it and reveal the ARTE I created since reemerging from my silent sojourn. I cried 3 times during my stay at the meditation center. Working backwards chronologically, the last cry I had was when we were taught the Metta Bhavana meditation practice in which we radiated loving kindness, compassion and goodwill to ALL living beings. My heart was so full ov LOVE that it oozed out through my tear ducts.

My second to last cry was in the meditation hall when I was thinking about how important ARTE is to me and I suddenly recalled a painting that made me sob, for reasons unbeknownst to me, a few weeks prior as I was flipping through ARTE books in my Scissor Temple while composing my analog postcards. I took a picture ov it at the TIME to send to Justin because I was so perplexed by its profound effect on me. Here I will share it with you:

The reason why this painting had such an emotional effect on me is still a bit ov a mystery, but after crying about it a second TIME, I came to the conclusion that it is tied to my absolute reverence and awe for the power ov human ARTE, passion and dedication to a creative craft. Here we see humans collecting, displaying and admiring a massive ARTE collection. What a beautiful sight to behold. So sacred that someone took the TIME to paint the scene. ARTE is human. ARTE is divine. ARTE is sacred. My heart yearns to contribute to the museums ov culture-influencing ARTE.

My first and most revealingly insightful cry was not a cry ov LOVE or ARTE appreciation, but a very dark & sad cry. While I was enduring my silent introspection over those 10 long days I kept having vivid memory flashes from distant moments forgotten. The scenes were so visceral and vivid. One particular instance occurred while I was laying in bed in my sleeping bag at night trying to fall asleep. Suddenly, I was 5 or 6 y-eras old in my childhood Arizona home. I was in my parent's bedroom and could see the bright sunlight pouring in through the glass door that opened to the backyard. Suddenly, my towering father violently kicked my 2 year old dog, Joey, in anger. Joey's yelp ov pain reverberated in my skull. Hot tears began to stream down my face. I recalled the shocked betrayal I felt from my father who had just abused the creature I loved so purely. His kick hurt me just as much as it hurt Joey. I cried in my memory and I cried in my present, alone in the dark. How could I remain equanimous about this recalled atrocity? How could I possibly apply the teachings from the Vipassana lectures to deal with my emotional reaction to my traumatic unearthed memory?

This is how I worked through it. I realized that Joey is dead and does not remember being abused by my father or the pain ov that unwarranted violence. I realized that my father did not care then and he certainly does not care now. He likely holds no recollection ov the happenstance due to his narcissism, always believing he is in the right and can do no wrong. I was the only conduit to that painful moment. It was alive only because I held a memory ov it. Replaying the squealing yelp ov Joey's pain in my head over and over really was multiplying my misery. My aversion to something I had no control over, in the long distant past, was shackling me to suffering. I observed my quick, shallow respiration, the rapid beating ov my heart, the wetness on my face from the hot tears, the ringing in my ears, and the palpable pain in my heart. While understanding that my aversion to the memory was an insight to my personal values and how I know in my body what is right and what is wrong, I accepted and released it. I accepted that it happened and that it had passed and that dwelling on it was not conducive to my being. I filled my heart with LOVE for Joey and then I mustered LOVE in my heart for my father, whose anger and ignorance are only multiplying his own misery. There was nothing that could be done to protect Joey in the moment, so once again, I found the blessing in my perceived curse (the revelation ov my moral formation and childhood understanding that my parents are imperfect,) and I absolved myself from spiraling into anger and despair over what I could not control. I found a way to give LOVE to something I hated in order for it to heal. I found a way to release the trauma from my body and take the charge away from the moment rather than feeding it, causing it to grow into a pool so large I could have drowned in it. I learned a wonderful lesson in letting go, with wisdom & LOVE.

That reminds me. There is one more important thing I concluded. As many ov you may know, me and my coworkers at the circus have still not been paid our final wages, ALL these months later. Teatro Zinzanni owes me precisely $4,282.55, which is a considerable debt. The Department ov Labor & Industries is a worthless impotent organization who offered no immediate help to me or my coworkers despite our clear-cut wage-theft claims. Before the meditation retreat I found a lawyer who was willing to represent me in pursuit ov the owed wages and I was fully prepared to begin the bureaucratic slog to sue them. While in lotus pose, I realized that the amount ov stress and drama I have experienced ALL in the name ov craving justice, was keeping me shackled to my misery. I craved that final pay even though I have enough money in my bank account to take a year long ARTE sabbatical and throw myself entirely at self-employment. My sober savings have blessed me with a financial cushion that I have never had in my LIFE, and not getting my final wages was not presently holding me back or tangibly hurting me in any way, except in how I was hurting MYSELF in the way I was mentally framing it. Suing Norm & Jane Langill and taking it to the courts would undoubtedly multiply my anger and misery. There is a chance I would go through the whole laborious rigamarole, with the courts obviously finding that I am owed money, but without any way to tangibly receive it. You can not tap a dry well, as they say. Why pay court fees and lawyer fees to just come to the same dead end with less money than I started with? I am not going to deepen the furrows in my brow over this anymore. I am not going to play the victim role in this anymore. I am liberating myself and releasing my expectations for pay, being grateful for ALL the wonderful individuals I got to meet and work with while at the circus, and walk away feeling lighter, wiser and enriched because ov it ALL. Some fights are not worth fighting. This is one I can walk away from in good conscious. My attention is better spent on the world I am building, not the one I left behind.

Which brings us to the ARTE, as promised. Upon getting my phone back from meditation lockdown I was elated to read an email from my 4th grade boyfriend, Matt Link, stating he wanted to commission a collage. He is the one who sent me Salvador Dali's autobiography that I wrote about in this Transmission. Matt had some special requests for the commission. He asked that I incorporate Dali's 1970 piece "The Hallucinogenic Toreador" as well as any ov Dali's work that pertains to Jesus. He said he liked the symmetry ov my piece "Yggdrasil's Autopsy" ((still available for sale HERE)) and to please keep it kid-friendly so that he could hang it prominently in his home. With that as my guiding metric, this is what I spawned. Behold-- The Hallucinogenic Mariposa:

𒄆𓁹✞𒀱✞𓁹𒄆

𒄆𓁹✞𒀱✞𓁹𒄆

Well, Reader, thank you for taking the TIME to read about my experience. Overall, I am deeply grateful for my journey and even though I do not personally vibe with the entire cosmology presented at the Vipassana center, I still recommend it to absolutely everyone. It is gnarly hard, but massively rewarding and will teach you a lot about your body and your mind. You will test your strengths and if you make it the entire 10 days, you will leave with an undeniable confidence that you can endure hard and and painful feats. I have meditated every day since leaving and will continue to do so, as I LOVE the calm clarity that I cultivate from the practice. I plan to go again in another decade in 2036 and make it a 10 y-era cycle ov revisitation as I continue to age and evolve, GOD willing.

I bid you adieu until next week. Thank you for your TIME. Thank you for your kindness. Thank you for ALL the ways you spread LOVE and joy in the world. Thank you for ALL the ways you creatively express yourself. May you connect with your innate divinity and discover GOD within. May you be protected on your journey. May you make ALL you most sacred DREAMS come true. I LOVE you. Wishing you wealth & health & happiness.

BIG LOVE

GOLD BLESS YOU

JAI KALI MA!

YOUR FRIENDLY CYBERHOOD NEIGHBOR,

P.S. If you are enjoying these uncensored transmissions and you know any other mutants who may delight in weekly ARTE, music & musings, please send them to hannahhaddix.com to sign up for Alienbroadcast Transmissions! Or you could just forward them this email. Help me grow my tribe! Surely you can think ov at least one human who belongs here. PLEASE HELP THEM TUNE IN!

P.P.S. Please enjoy this brush pen automatic drawing that I spawned the night before leaving for the meditation center in Onalaska, Washington.

P.P.P.S. Okay, one more.

(𓁹𓁿𓁹) ​
PEACE FOR ALL!

☻ BE BLOOMIN' ☻

ʕ⁠っ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ⁠っ ♡

𓆙𓃹𓃚 𓅰 𓅬 𓅯 𓅓

丰HH丰

---Transmission over until next Friday---

​THEE TOTAL TRANSMISSIONS ARCHIVES​