Like me, my friend Jill also got sick while living in a moldy house. She wrote to me recently saying the water in her new house was burning her hands. I will paste my reply to her here:
So that’s actually really interesting about your hands. As you know, I am arguing that this is a holographic (light-based) universe. But it isn’t static or stationary light. It’s hot light that’s becoming cold. Or cold light that’s becoming hot.
I think of it as a race, a track, where we can run either in the forward or backward direction.
But there are limits. There’s a finish line and a starting line.
When we lived in mold, I think we both got above the finish line. Once you are above the finish line, there is nowhere to go but backward.
To “go backward” in time is actually what mold is doing. So, in a sense, we got acclimated to our environment. Vitamin K2 (a product of fermentation) seems to signal to my brain that the direction of time’s movement is backward. Vitamin K1 (often given to newborns at birth) seems to signal to my brain that the direction of time’s movement is forward.
Once I am above the finish line—so hot that I am precipitating out of solution—I am not really running the race anymore. The space to run the race has been taken away from me. I am in a metabolic straitjacket.
Because my frame of reference is too hot, the place I land is too cold. Once I am too cold, my perception becomes distorted. What is actually neutral—pH7—reads as too hot to me.
This is what I think is happening with your hands. They are so cold (molecularly), that they are reading water—pH7—as hot, as burning. Does Izzy [Jill’s daughter] feel that the water burns her hands? I’m guessing no.
This is why I think vitamin K1 has been helpful for me. Not even for what it does in the body. For the signal it gives to the brain. K1 tells the brain that we’re going to run the race in the forward direction.
Not hot to cold (backward, the way we were running it after living in mold). Cold to hot (forward). By increasing my density, it is like pulling back a sling. This creates a margin for me, metabolically, in which I can move forward.
It is tricky, because of perception. Can a pineal gland that is too dense perceive that the blood is too thick? Can a pineal gland that is too diffuse perceive that the blood is too thin?
When I (my pineal gland) am cold and dense, my blood is also cold and dense (K1). When I am hot and diffuse, my blood is also hot and diffuse (K2).
But here is what is so interesting. When my blood is cold and dense (K1), it has room to move forward, and there seems to be no problem. In me, it is actually when my blood is hot and diffuse that I start to have issues with blood viscosity. Sometimes it seems—paradoxically—as if it is when my blood is deficient in clotting factors that it starts to clot too much.
