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Iron

Like all minerals, iron is a Jekyll/Hyde mineral. When I was at my sickest, iron was dragging me down. Now that I’m recovering my health, iron is lifting me up. Iron is not just an inert mineral; it’s a force. It’s magnetism.

Magnetism needs to be opposed. The thing that seems to most effectively oppose it, for me, is vitamin D. Sunlight. Energy + magnetism work together. We need to anchor our spin.

When I do not possess sufficient energy to animate my iron, it’s a tremendous source of oxidative stress. Morley Robbins, Dennis Mangan, and Ray Peat taught me about the myriad ill effects of iron. The overwhelming role of iron in human illness was a great ‘aha’ moment for me.

It took a while for the other shoe to drop. It wasn’t just the presence of inert iron that was killing me; it was the absence of active iron.

It’s this duality that complicates things. When we speak of forces, we’re speaking of physics, and at the quantum level, the arrow of causality goes both ways. Iron can help me to raise my core metabolic rate (which I must do if I am to keep pace with the accelerating universe). But my core metabolic rate must first be fast enough in order for me to effectively utilize iron.

My vitamin D status seems to affect how much iron I absorb, and also how much I store. And my iron status seems to affect how much vitamin D I absorb, and how much I store. When I was very sick, my vitamin D in storage was very high. But it wasn’t because I didn’t need vitamin D; it was because my body thought I didn’t need it. I was not reading—or generating—time and light correctly. I was too dense, meaning time was too slow and light was too fast. We want time and light to be the same speed.

Imagine cake batter. If we have batter in a mixer, and we both add a thickening agent and increase the rate of spin (mixing speed), the batter will ostensibly be the same. But behind the scenes, it’s different. Its density and energy have both increased. If we are to accelerate—and not fly apart—we must first increase our density. The thing that most allows me to increase my density (e.g. signals vitamin D to send to calcium to my bones) is iron.

The other thing that seems to affect my iron metabolism is manganese. It goes both ways: iron affects manganese metabolism; manganese affects iron metabolism.

When vitamin D does not send calcium to the bones, it is no accident. The body is intelligent. If I cannot maintain my density using magnetism (iron), I will maintain it less efficiently, as best I can. I will use calcium. This works in the short term, but in the long term it’s not only inefficient, it’s detrimental. When I use calcium instead of magnetism to hold myself together, my bones grow porous, my arteries harden, my heart strains, my muscles lose their responsiveness, my sodium-calcium exchanger becomes jammed, and my nerve cells perish. Over time, I ossify, and die.

That is to say, my body dies. But I am more than a body. I am information. I am light. The true bush is not the leafy shrub. The true bush burns.

I’ve been battling chronic illness for 10 years, and I’ve never felt as good as I did this week. I started taking an organic plant-based iron supplement. (I have nothing against meat, and in fact I eat meat often and feel terrible when I don’t.) I take it with organic orange juice or organic green tea (excellent source of manganese). Prior to starting, I’d been taking hearty doses of magnesium (3/day) and vitamin D (2-3/day) for a couple of weeks. I also take vitamin K. If I am light-sensitive, vulnerable to infections, storing fat in my liver, or feel an ache in my left side (spleen), I am low in vitamin D.

In addition to allowing me to generate energy, it feels as if the iron is strengthening my center of gravity. My core. By anchoring me in time, iron allows me to grow. It changes the way my muscles function. Previously, when I contracted a muscle, it would stay contracted (cramp). Iron has fixed that. It seems, essentially, to be giving my body a wall to rappel against. My stomach flattened; the skin on my face tightened; my fat metabolism kicked into high gear. Honestly, it has felt as though I’m aging in reverse.

We see through a glass darkly. Matter indwells energy and energy indwells matter.

When I’m behind time, no matter what I eat, I will find it difficult to lose weight. Even if my caloric intake decreases, my body will use its dark matter (energy) to make matter. When I’m ahead of time, no matter what I eat, I will find it difficult to gain weight. Even if my caloric intake increases, my body will use its dark energy (matter) to make energy. We’re designed to survive, independent of resource scarcity; master metabolic control does not depend upon something as capricious as diet. The mass we maintain corresponds with what we perceive to be the density of the universe, not with what we put in our mouths. What is fat? It depends upon the glasses through which we perceive it. If we’re looking through cool glasses, fat is energy. If we’re looking through hot glasses, fat is matter.

It was Johanna Budwig who first looked at dysfunctional fat metabolism as a possible variable in cancer. I believe the root cause of my illness and the root cause of cancer are the same: an error in metabolism. Once we increase our density, we can increase our speed. If I’m unable to increase my density—if my iron is inert and not functioning as magnetism because my core metabolic rate is too slow*—I will be behind time. If my liver increases its density ahead of the rest of me, it will subsequently replicate more quickly than the rest of me.

*Remember, the arrow of time goes both ways. If my copper and iron are inert and not functioning as electricity and magnetism, it will cause my metabolic rate to be too slow. And if my metabolic rate is too slow, my copper and iron will be inert and unable to function as electricity and magnetism.

When everything aligns—the iron, the vitamin D, the magnesium, the manganese—I can feel my metabolism kick up a notch. I feel happy and strong; my cheeks pink as if I’m running a slight fever. I believe what’s happening is I’m accelerating imperceptibly—accelerating into deceleration—similar to what happens when we ease our foot off the brake as a car stops. It’s not so much that I’m accelerating as it is that I’m a-decelerating. The maths of time is like the maths of imaginary numbers; we use the absence of a negative to make a positive. Time doesn’t speed up so much as it stops slowing down. The best way I can describe this change in time signature is to compare it to what happens to when we go so fast we appear not to move, as seen in this footage of an airplane.

Once my iron is active, I start to want iodine. Until I am fast enough, I don’t want iodine. Trying to accelerate puts reverse pressure on the thyroid (Hashimoto’s). The thyroid opens the spigot; I don’t want to open the spigot until I have achieved sufficient speed. I think I’m craving iodine now because I may also still have some mercury left in my system from when I had dental amalgams (1978-2011).

I sometimes crave sulphur. When I do, I take organic garlic (2/day) to support my liver and heart (I also love cabbage). Sulphur opposes (diminishes) copper, which can be tricky. Right now, it’s okay for me, because I’m in perimenopause, and my copper (which tracks with estrogen) tends to run high. In the past, if ever I responded poorly to sulphur or sulphur-based supplements, it usually meant I was low in copper. Copper is essential to iron metabolism and heme synthesis. But, like iron, in its inert form, copper is not only not helpful, it’s damaging.

Because I’m in perimenopause and my estrogen is running high, my bile can become supersaturated, and I start to feel congestion in my liver. The garlic capsules and magnesium seem to help to this. It’s also helped by glycine, which is essential for bile production. It took about a year of eating 100% organic (zero glyphosate) for my glycine metabolism to feel normal again. When my metabolic rate gets high enough, my liver starts to feel terrific. My liver wants to go fast, I realized, but its hands are often tied by my pH (my body’s perception of my time signature). This is why I sometimes say the liver is the engine but the kidneys set the speed limit.

Energy—vitamin C, B vitamins, magnesium, sunlight—is the spark of life. But unless I have enough magnetism, enough iron—enough density—to balance it, energy hurts me. I send in the calcium, to hold myself together; I slow down my core metabolic rate. As a result, my density (my material density) increases, which in turn increases my need for energy. And around we go.

That’s the vicious cycle. But I’ve also had glimpses of a virtuous cycle. There’s a rate of speed above which my energy and density seem to self-reinforce. To co-convert. Rather than spin myself manually, turn by turn, if I can just spin fast enough (while holding myself together)—like a top, I take off.