Sense proving, 23-9-2021, Zell, Christina Ari, Susanne Diez, Susanne Villedieu
Prover 1C1
(Precondition: runny "one-day rhinitis", probably of vasomotor nature, occurs with overwork and stress; as usual, was much better in the evening and gone the next day)
Tender feeling, the mushroom feels dry, tender, tough when cut up; it is edible but I don't want to taste it.
a crying young girl, perhaps 13a also of a bright meadow...first heartbreak? Is it herding sheep?... it is a fairy-tale-like scene, very very bright, almost unearthly light... sad, gentle, bright, delicate, pastel...still, young.
The sound of rubbing is like fine stroking, caressing, stroking through a fur.
The girl is alone - no parents... have they died? Has the girl lost her way - or did her parents lose her on a hike or while working in the woods?
No one is around - what should the child do? It sits curled up, curled up in the meadow and waits, waits... It doesn't think much, isn't afraid... what to do? Wait, just wait... be there... perhaps waiting for a miracle...a timeless feeling, secure.
I get the idea that the child could be dreaming or in an in-between state, in a kind of trance - or a fever dream? Or in an unconsciousness after an accident? An out-of-body experience?
She is now looking from above and sees an accident car far below her - does she know it? People are being pulled out - does she know these people? Are they her parents?
She goes back to the bright meadow.
Animals are there, birds... and also ethereal beings that gather around her and gently stroke around her, very tenderly, gently; a secure good feeling... She closes her eyes - it is like sleeping and dreaming - disembodied, very light, without any earthly heaviness... like a breeze blowing away, as if carried by a gentle wind.
She sees the world below her as if for the first time, as if in a mirror. Things have no meaning, they are simple. There is a very open soft and wide feeling around the heart, a kind of quiet bliss, desireless, without memory.
The powder in the bowl is now very light and does not stick to the bowl at all, there is nothing to scrape, it rises like a fine cloud of dust from the bowl when rubbed.
Timeless and wordless... a fulfilled "nothingness
The child is now lying in a hospital bed, intensive care, polytrauma. She feels nothing, sees doctors and nurses passing by like shadows. She doesn't know where and what was and is - no fear, no thoughts.... Sleep.
Now she is a grown-up young woman, cheerful, uncomplicated, a very loving kind person. She lost both parents in an accident as a child, she herself bears scars on her body but all internal injuries and broken bones have healed well. She also has no noticeable psychological wounds.
A certain precociousness characterises her - she seems much older and more mature inside than she is and than she looks. She has a grand old soul - intuitive, open, bright... no fear of death, therefore no other fears either - she is quite free, gentle, almost wise.
What is her problem?
She lacks groundedness, she cares little about all the things others worry about - hence some people can't quite understand her - they may admire her but find her "aloof"... hence she also has a certain outsider role in society, but she accepts it with a smile and understanding.
She has a child, but doesn't understand the worries other parents have about their children - she herself is quite carefree. She can't assert herself, but doesn't really have a problem with it either.... but she is not a firm hold for her child, she is too ethereal - and her child would need more concrete firm boundaries to find hold, so he is a bit lost. The mother is not tangible, she is almost like an angel, bright and light - but she is too little concrete for her daughter.
Since the near-death experience she has not quite returned to earth, she is half in an in-between world, happy and wise, but too little fit for life, ungrounded... too fragile.
Debriefing:Susanne V. had in her trituration the image of this woman's child.
Mummy does not come when I call her... there is no answer from the forest... no stop
Mama, have you died? Have you been taken away from me?
I can't reach my mum.
Accident, home... What happened?
Where is my mummy?
The flock lost, searching
(The mother's coping strategy is to dream - but then she is a dreaming mother who cannot provide support;
The child's coping strategy is searching...)
Near-death experience... Intermediate realm.Not really on earth, ethereal, ungrounded
Silent mourning - lost, wistful
Searching
Light, open, bright, refined
Connection to the other world
Warm, secure
It is the way it is, it happened - but no one is to blame... It is not about guilt but about what has happened, the way it was and is.
Reference to
Lymph
Thyroid gland (lump in the throat)... flaccid, overlapping.
Old people with dry mucous membranes and dry secretions (vaginal discharge, semen) - dry up.
Totally exhausted after masturbation (old man).
Water or milk... Baby milk substitute... "the wrong milk"
Curling up, slumping, curling up.Chaos, total confusion.
Film: System blaster
... but this child here is not angry and wrathful - but quite gentle, quiet, light and soft.
Prover 2 Susanne VilledieuC1
(Precondition: runny "one-day rhinitis", probably of vasomotor nature, occurs with overwork and stress; as usual, was much better in the evening and gone the next day)
Tender feeling, the mushroom feels dry, tender, tough when cut; it is edible but I don't want to taste it.
A young girl crying, perhaps 13a in a bright meadow...first heartbreak? Is she herding sheep?... it's a fairytale-like scene, very very bright, almost unearthly light... sad, gentle, bright, delicate, pastel...still, young.
The sound of rubbing is like fine stroking, caressing, stroking through a fur.
The girl is alone - no parents... have they died? Has the girl lost her way - or did her parents lose her on a hike or while working in the woods?
No one is around - what should the child do? It sits curled up, curled up in the meadow and waits, waits... It doesn't think much, isn't afraid... what to do? Wait, just wait... be there... perhaps waiting for a miracle...a timeless feeling, secure.
I get the idea that the child could be dreaming or in an in-between state, in a kind of trance - or a fever dream? Or in an unconsciousness after an accident? An out-of-body experience?
She is now looking from above and sees an accident car far below her - does she know it? People are being pulled out - does she know these people? Are they her parents?
She goes back to the bright meadow.
Animals are there, birds... and also ethereal beings that gather around her and gently stroke around her, very tenderly, gently; a secure good feeling... She closes her eyes - it is like sleeping and dreaming - disembodied, very light, without any earthly heaviness... like a breeze that blows away, as if carried by a gentle wind.
She sees the world below her as if for the first time, as if in a mirror. Things have no meaning, they are simple. There is a very open soft and wide feeling around the heart, a kind of quiet bliss, desireless, without memory.
The powder in the bowl is now very light and does not stick to the bowl at all, there is nothing to scrape, it rises like a fine cloud of dust from the bowl when rubbed.
Timeless and wordless... a fulfilled "nothingness
The child is now lying in a hospital bed, intensive care, polytrauma. She feels nothing, sees doctors and nurses passing by like shadows. She doesn't know where and what was and is - no fear, no thoughts.... Sleep.
Now she is a grown-up young woman, cheerful, uncomplicated, a very loving kind person. She lost both parents in an accident as a child, she herself bears scars on her body but all internal injuries and broken bones have healed well. She also has no noticeable psychological wounds.
A certain precociousness characterises her - she seems much older and more mature inside than she is and than she looks. She has a grand old soul - intuitive, open, bright... no fear of death, therefore no other fears either - she is quite free, gentle, almost wise.
What is her problem?
She lacks groundedness, she cares little about all the things others worry about - hence some people can't quite understand her - they may admire her but find her "aloof"... hence she also has a certain outsider role in society, but she accepts it with smiles and understanding.
She has a child, but doesn't understand the worries other parents have about their children - she herself is quite carefree. She can't assert herself, but doesn't really have a problem with it either.... but she is not a firm hold for her child, she is too ethereal - and her child would need more concrete firm boundaries to find hold, so he is a bit lost. The mother is not tangible, she is almost like an angel, bright and light - but she is too little concrete for her daughter.
Since the near-death experience she has not quite returned to earth, she is half in an in-between world, happy and wise, but too little fit for life, ungrounded... too fragile.
Debriefing:Susanne V. had in her trituration the image of this woman's child.
Mummy does not come when I call her... there is no answer from the forest... no stop
Mama, have you died? Have you been taken away from me?
I can't reach my mum.
Accident, home... What happened?
Where is my mum?
The flock lost, searching
(The mother's coping strategy is to dream - but then she is a dreaming mother who cannot provide support;
The child's coping strategy is searching...)
Near-death experience... Intermediate realm.Not really on earth, ethereal, ungrounded
Silent mourning - lost, wistful
Searching
Light, open, bright, refined
Connection to the other world
Warm, secure
It is the way it is, it happened - but no one is to blame... It is not about guilt but about what has happened, the way it was and is.
Reference to
Lymph
Thyroid gland (lump in the throat)... flaccid, overlapping.
Old people with dry mucous membranes and dry secretions (vaginal discharge, semen) - dry up.
Totally exhausted after masturbation (old man).
Water or milk... Baby milk substitute... "the wrong milk"
Curling up, slumping, curling up.Chaos, total confusion.
Film: System blaster... but this child here is not angry and wrathful - but quite gentle, quiet, light and soft.
C23.10.21, Vienna, alone;
I continue to prescribe C1 because on 29.9. I had a patient for her first anamnesis to whom I would like to give the remedy, but the remedy is not yet available.
Finding ground and support from lostness through no fault of my own.
For the first time I am prescribing a remedy not primarily to get to know it better, but for a particular patient. Perhaps this energetic action is already helping her, I feel connected to her. What are these energetic connections like?
There is something very soft and supple in the substance... To dig into a soft warm fur, a sheepskin on which one feels and finds peace, relaxation and security. Warmth of the heart, being taken in the arm by mum.
I remember an experience of my early childhood - a fluffy green jacket of my mother's that I liked to snuggle into as a "bunny in the Grasi". A feeling of security that I myself experienced only in very few moments.
Wanting nothing, having nothing to do - without a beginning and without an end, without anything thinking into the future.
Sheep's porridge, please give me healing words for my patient.
"You are complete now and for you. Carried, secure, loved. Without beginning and without end. You fulfil what you are there for. You are full of strength and full of love. Feel your feet and the earth beneath your feet. Go your way - do not be afraid!"
I think now of my (long deceased) mother-in-law who was always kind and friendly to me, but I never felt any real warmth from her. She never really asked me how I was and it was actually taken for granted that I had to be okay. When I needed her once, she said she didn't want anything to do with it. So our relationship remained superficial and friendly, she was there for everyday things but not emotionally with her heart. She never tried to show me that she was probably jealous of her son - and I understood her own neediness, well hidden under demonstrated independence - understandable after traumatic war experiences and the early loss of her husband.
C3Vienna, 5.10., alone (I will give this potency to my patient today).
As time is short, I decide to do the trituration instead of my morning meditation, which is also contemplation.
Nothing comes for a long time. Maybe I'll just do the trituration today - without experiencing anything.
The sheep porling as a bed for a small fine fairy woman, in the middle of a wonderful meadow, covered in dew.
Nothing comes. Exhaustion of images and visions. Sleep, dreamless.
Strong burning in the stomach.
Being in a (banal) flow of thoughts, passing by, meaningless... also again and again without thoughts... Silence.
Not waiting for what comes in the silence is difficult when rubbing, quite different from meditating, there it is much easier to be without expectation, that "nothing should" be done... but here, I want to experience something... and nothing comes.
I hold the bowl at the level of the solar plexus, perceive only the rubbing movement and my breath. Now a "battle" begins between the silence, my rubbing and the burning of the stomach that occurs in waves (which is over soon afterwards) - it all doesn't fit together, as if three processes were going on in a different rhythm. Slight burning now also on the upper lip. In me a certain restlessness and dissatisfaction with myself.
Surrendering to the silence. The challenge: not to expect anything.
I think of the long period of unconsciousness after a traumatic brain injury. A non-time window, a time jump, a time without time - standstill - silence.
I perceive the split between the outer activity and the inner silence - now in me, but also the handling of doctors and nurses on an unconscious patient who is inwardly completely in silence.
I think of a quote by Thomas Bernhard: "Everything is ridiculous when you think of death."
The ridiculousness and insignificance of everything external in this state, in this moment. I think for those who have experienced such things, there are two possibilities "afterwards": to tenderly love life and all material externals down to every little detail, to deeply perceive everything as something precious and special, or to recognise everything external as "maya"... is it possible to adopt both attitudes at the same time? Are they polarities or complements?
When I look at a work of art (a play, a film, a novel...) I can lovingly perceive and enjoy every detail - and yet I know that it is not reality.
Does it mean to prove oneself in life with this attitude, to do "as if" it were real and at the same time know that it is not - an honest sincere "doing as if" - what a wondrous contradiction!
I now go back into the silence. The outside enters the silence like water enters an empty vessel, it penetrates and tries to fill the emptiness. It is exhausting to hold the silence.
When you have lost someone or something, their place is empty - and we fill this place with our own needs, wishes, desires, fantasies...that is ourselves and it is not (any more) the reality of the other person that we perceive. We fill the space of the real with ourselves instead of leaving the silence in the empty space.
The silence into which I penetrate with my neediness, the silence into which the world penetrates and imposes itself.
The world full of neediness
In the real silence I am needless.... I am... no longer... no longer "I".
The "I" has needs for an "other than me".
But this "I-less" is not conceptually graspable and... cannot be consciously experienced... it exceeds consciousness, at least the conceptual... nothing is reflexive - no outside, no inside... nonduality... one also with oneself.
Prover Christina Ari
Tastes and smells good.
Benign growths on skin and mucous membranes, condylomas. Sexually transmitted.
Will I see you again, or are we parted? Have I lost you forever, stop and take me with you, don't leave me alone in this harsh world. In for a penny, in for a pound, a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved. Can suffering be halved? Forever stigmatised. See how you get on. Stagnation.
Easy for the worm there, the holes are already there. (Or are they holes in the brain?) Stop, stop, stop.
Now, at last, calm returns, after long, sycotic haste, that was yesterday. Today is the end of all the confusion, though we thought we could not escape the confusion.
They are constructs of thought convolutions that seem to have no beginning and no end. Trapped in the madness of thought constructs.
I feel a pulling in my abdomen.
C1 TriturationStrong smell, heavy, of truffles, like old socks.
Totally dizzy, as if I would take off, like a helicopter, like high In the eye sockets it burns, feel pla? and ma?.
Hali halo what makes me happy?
I'm so tired, nothing cheers me up.
I'd rather not say anything, I don't want to offend anyone. What I say is wrong and can also be misunderstood, I don't want that. So I prefer to say nothing, because I lack the words. I have always lacked them, I don't know where they are? In any case, they are stuck somewhere, they are stuck!...and that gives me the feeling of being handicapped. A doctor without words - that's not possible. Jokes are also without words and you don't understand them either!
Friedrich is swinging outside the window. He tries to get higher and higher. Higher and higher - without words! Friedrich comes back again, he is ready with rocking.
Everything scratches and squeaks, there are so many noises in the room, it prevents me from forming thoughts.
No thoughts, no words. I can't talk because I can't think straight.
I just sit there and listen to the noises and then the still. There is a lack of any association to the external stimuli that I take in unfiltered, there is no direct reflection on them, no clear thoughts, no words. The brain is like a sieve. I just stare in front of me.
Brainwashed-no resonance-empty.
I think of a glass of wine.
I begin to sway back and forth on the chair.
I feel bloating in my stomach
I feel dizzy, feel woozy.
I yawn hard, my throat hurts inside, more and more.
Dear hen, where is the way out, where is the light?
"Let yourself be carried, little chick, climb on my back, trust me. I'll carry you through all the turbulence to the new land where milk and honey flow. You don't have to do anything, nothing is enough-because you are carried!
Be humble! This is not the time for words. No one understands what the other says, the words do not even reach the address. No seduction is of any use, no associating. It's all just noise, which is more or less, even silence is the same. I cannot be understood because I do not understand. I am quite simple-minded, with me one must be friendly, then I am well, then it goes to the light!"