Alternatively, the heading could have been called effective healing but it isn’t as punchy.
In addition to not packing the punch I was after there is a specific reason to the heading, an ode to a bloke name Sadhguru. Sadhguru comes from privilege, the way he speaks, his childhood freedom, many more things are words of privilege, his privilege gave him his status rather than the learnings in his life.
I know this about Sadhguru for a few reasons, watch for yourself and you’ll pick it up too. Mainly I know due to Mr. Guru putting himself in front of many many people and telling stories, stories which he, occasionally enough is unable to answer further questions. There is only one story that bugs me with Sadhguru and it is the one about Reading your Guidebook.
He is right, to read your guidebook is to bring freedom through true effective healing to your life. Sadhguru however only knows how to tell people to read their guidebooks, he doesn’t know how to do it, how to explain to others how to read it simply.
Sadhguru, because of this, everybody knows what I do, you have no idea what you are talking about buddy, you are a fake and a fraud. In this area anyway, but, I suppose, any fakeness and fraudulence in your life means not much you say anywhere else can be trusted either.
I want to bang on about Sadhguru talking about complete stupidity such as peppercorns and some other rubbish being useful for curing type 2 diabetes when the way to reverse type 2 diabetes is to start by losing 10% of your body weight. Teaching complication, and really just vomitting rubbish to the world, instead of keeping things simple like everybody needs right now.
I’m not going to bang on about this though, I’m going to teach you to read your guidebook instead.
Effective Healing
First concept to understand. Effective healing, not healing with maintenance, healing with maintenance or management is not healing at all. It’s like having a bung knee that keeps you on the couch 23 hours a day, it’s better than the 24 it used to be, there is healing but to say I am healed is ridiculous.
Mental health space, that thing isn’t controlling your life anymore, you are not going into fits of depression, it is better. Still, to cope, you must go to this therapy, that group, take this medication, remove these things from your world, add a bunch of other new things, you continue not to be able to talk about that thing without emotion getting in the way of your words, your being.
Maintenance, not healing, steps to healing, but a long way from healing.
In true healing there is no maintenance required, it is the knee above completely healed, no need for panadol or walking aids any more. When you do something that really stresses the knee in the future it will let you know that you are playing with fire here, re-injury, but it won’t stop you from giving it a go, even if you reinjure it.
Again, mental health example, frustration, I’ll talk to this. It is the first thing I removed from my body and life from an emotion/feeling perspective. Getting onto seven or eight years now, I have not felt it since. Occasionally my body, mind, reminds me of the stories of my frustration but only when they are necessary and relevant to the conversation. Sometimes the same area I felt frustration in my body will present, in a different way.
The presentation can be a few things. It can show me that I am acting in a way which is relative to the way I once reacted when I was frustrated, that what I am doing is borderline harmful, or it is harmful, it helps me to be in a space when others are frustrated, it presents to help me empathise.
Healing is healing, once you heal you are healed, full stop. Maintenance is maintenance, it is not healing, again a step, a very small step to healing but it is in no way, shape or form healing. Nobody, none of you reading this have experienced healing.
I know this, and you do too, by what is happening in your body right now. If you reacted to the above paragraph in anyway, body feelings (frustration) screamed you don’t know what you are talking about Fred, I am healed of blah, I guarantee you are exactly who I am talking to. There is no ego in healing, once you heal ego dissipates, ego is the barrier to freedom, their is no ego in healed minds.
Fixing frustration
Early 30s before any drugs were in my life again, with the exception of alcohol.
Frustratin came into me one day and I cracked the shits at myself. I do not even remember why I became frustrated but I did, I know it was stupid, it is the reason I looked at it.
I had a great healing foundation that I had been working on my entire life. Slowly to start with and increasingly investing myself more heavily in it, until it became all I do. Introducing quiet spaces, walking and running aimlessly, lots of exercise, good healthy food, some excellent supports, the friends I wanted (mostly), reading and paying attention to the right materials, beneficial materials.
Through all this I applied what made sense to my life and worked without needing to add additional routines or steps to my day. It was all simple, I didn’t know what I was doing, only that stillness and changing my environment changed me.
The frustration changing day, I basically said to myself NO, I am not letting this thing out of me, what is it even? Frustration was the word I gave it, but the feeling, what was it, why was I doing it to myself, putting it there? Surely feeling this way over this stupid thing is over the top.
I stopped myself from reacting on the spot and I felt it, nothing else. Every time it pooped up I felt it, was able to be with it longer and longer, the more intense episodes that possibly had a genuine reason for frustration I also sat with.
I stopped reacting to my frustration, I put moments in between the feeling and the follow up action, causing the resulting actions to be intentional rather than reactive. My words no longer expressed it, nor did my body language. In the months I was working on it I could not hide it completely, a little shake in the body, mumbling, a tremble in the voice, but I did my best and tried, made sure the uncomfortableness didn’t break down the most important part of this interaction, the safety in our space.
A great example of my work within frustration was a few days before I walked away from Catholic Care NT. Maria, the Team Leader, and I were having a conversation about something. I was doing what I always do, arms crossed at my waist and swinging on my chair. The conversation was going nowhere, it was now a matter of being right rather than being a friedly chat between colleagues. I turned to Maria and told her that I need the conversation to stop. Maria continued going, she couldn’t stop. Next, before moving, in my head I went through my actions, I need to show Maria that I need this to stop, I cannot make any threatening moves in this. I did not, very slowly I first unfolded my arms, places them deliberately on the table, hands palms down. Next, I turned intentionally to look straight at Maria, very calmly and clearly repeated myself, Maria, I need this to stop. ‘Yes, Fred, okay.’ I highlight this interaction because it shows progress, but also it was the episode Maria attempted to bully me on, exaggerating my actions to be nothing but threatening to try and get her way with the coward sitting next to her.
Reaction has no safety, reaction removes all safety from a space and a situation. Reaction, in the above scenarios is a complete loss of control.
I practiced feeling it everywhere, changed my quiet bedroom space to be completely free of distractions. I would stay in there intentionally 20 minutes a day, sometimes multiple times a day as an initial practice. When I felt something in my body, particularly frustration at this point, I would make my way to the bedroom and sit with it. Nothing else but sit with it, let myself feel frustrated, allow my mind to do wild things, but, most importantly, through it all stay with the feeling in my body.
I ignored the narrative going on in my head, I stayed with my body. There is no more important detail here, stay with the body, the feeling, read it, read your guidebook.
I noticed things happening and one day I tensed the area I felt frustration, my chest. The frustration spread, it was strange, a little scary, but mostly cool. The cool was I felt the frustration expand through my chest, it wasn’t isolated to an intense spot, there was sharing. The sharing, while still difficult somehow seemed less difficult, more comfortable.
Over the next months I experimented with this. After a few weeks I added all my chest and upper back muscles, frustration shared further, uncomfortable not nearly as much as it was, it was all kind of exciting. In my everyday life frustration was having less and less power, at this point it almost had none. I wasn’t quite there yet.
I added my neck muscles, and tensed them too. It was a sequence, started tensing the muscles in the frustration spot, added the next closest chest muscles, the back muscles, neck, abdomen, lower back, hips, arms, legs, hands, feet, head. Everntually everything was being tensed together, the frustration was spread equally throughout my whole body.
I did this for maybe three to four weeks, by the end of it I could basically put myself straight in the full tense space. I’d hold it for as long as I could, breathe out, take a few deep breaths, repeat, repeat, repeat. Over a matter of weeks the feeling of frustration amplified, it got to the stage that the feeling of the initial spot that made me react so unconsciously and regularly was the feeling throughout my body. It was extermely difficult to be with.
I was almost done this night, ready to take a break for the night, was satisfied with my progress. I never got impatient with the process, all through I knew something was happening, something great, I was motivated to stay with it.
The last flex, everything into it, I am tired, it has been hard work. The feeling through my body is intense, the words in my head are enough, enough, enough. The next words in my head are just a few more seconds bud, stay with it, you’ve got this.
Got this are not the words for what happened next, it was absolutely phenomenal, a game changer in the mental health space.
I always thought, believed that my frustration came from my trauma, all my thought patterns were towards this narrative. I had very little scope to think outside the trauma box, I only blamed others for my frustration, never me, just like myself in my trauma victimisation, just like you.
I was wrong, when this thing released the first thing I did was cry, maybe 30 minutes. Then I cried non-stop for about four hours straight, God I was wrong about my frustration origins.
My mother finally left Fred after she discovered a phone number popping up on the bill repetitevely. Mum rang the number, a woman answered, she asked for Fred. Fred had been having an affair with this woman, who had a son the same age as my little brother. It had been going on for years, he effectively had a second family, neither of the two knew about one another.
After I finally saw him again before I went to Iraq I knew he was no different to the man I knew. I already knew his partner and child, he had her babysit me and Benjamin in Wollongong one day. He had told her Monika was his sister and we were his nephew’s, he knew he would get away with it because we called him Fred rather than Dad, or a Dad alternative.
A few weeks later, two weeks before deployment I receive a phone call from a lawyer asking me to bail Fred out of the local lockup. I asked the lawyer why he was in there, he replied domestic violence. I didn’t know the term, I didn’t bother to research it, I didn’t bother to ask. I bailed my Dad out, I bailed him out effectively putting a single mother and her son at risk of this violent man.
Ignorance was the tool the bailed my Dad out, put this absolute risk to the world back on the street. I did this, I did it because of attachment. Frederick Coenraad Nortje, same name, same physical appearance mostly, same blood, same breath, I needed him to be better because that meant I could be better. It was all that mattered, Fred fixing Fred meant that it was possible for Frederick to fix Frederick, to keep his promise to himself.
This moment, this ignorance, was the origin of my frustration. It stayed with me and became worse and worse until I finally shut my mouth, my mind, what I thought this thing should be and let it be what it was. It was my mistake that I had not learned from.
I did not let it go, I did not know how, I did not know what it was. The necessary treatment was to be with it in its entirety, feel it, feel what it had done to me and the world I interact with, understand and know it. Once I knew it, stopped running away, it let go of me, told me its story and relinquished all control knowing I would take this lesson with me for the rest of my life.
I applied this technique to every single feeling which I reacted to, they are all gone. Alone, this healing method works, beyond doubt. It will work for everybody, everybody can read their guidebook, just need to stop thinking that reading can only be done with the eyes, it can and needs to be done with the body.
It is slow, it is painful, it is completely worth it. Psychedelics speed up this work infinitely, using the same technique with the addition of these substances, infinitely. Much of this site is dedicated to psychedelics, using them and most importantly understanding and integrating the experiences.
Understand the material in these pages and you will find a pathway to healing and freedom that is accessible to all. There is no religion, spirituality or belief system in this process. It is as simple as getting to know yourself. One can be completely practical and robotic in their approach to life, this technique is even available to you, the only thing you need is you.
Eyes, beautiful eyes
Eyes are some of the most beautiful things in the world, they are also he hardest thing to look into for most people. Most people cannot look into other people’s eyes because they are unable to look into their own.
Your body is easy to read, you cannot but feel it. Your eyes are equally easy to read, you cannot but see them, but, you have to look first. Learn to read your own eyes and you’ll be able to read others too. You cannot read another eye until you read your own.
The university/school to learn yourself is you, not a thing else. Freedom is available without a thing but your own skin, you do not even need clothes.
I look into my own eyes, everyday, mostly for only a few seconds, sometimes for a minute. My eyes are beautiful, the eye colouring itself, but also the softness around them. There is a small amount of sharpness, I need this sharpness to help you to understand it.
Firstly, my eyes are beautiful because they are beautiful. They are vibrant, the white glows, it stands out, the colour, colours cannot be mistook, but they always are. My eyes change colour, it is amazing, it is part of why I look. The other night they were metallic grey, other times they are a deep blue sea, they then become a deep green colour. At times they are a gentl blue sky. Green, grey, blue, hazel, moving into brown but not quite, it is phenomenal watching these things.
But having this, the changing of eye colour, regularly too, an Aunty told me they change constantly throughout a conversation, is how I really learnt to read eyes, my eyes. Just seeing the sharpness at the side of them in the lines, it repulsed me, it was all the ugly I saw in everyone else, the people in my life with the sharpest of lines were the most violent, the ugliest, my Dad.
I know sharp lines and violence go together, my Dad was this example, as was my Mum. Their two faces showed very differnt stories. Every face tells a very true story, you just have to see through all your bullshit to see it.
A black face is not a story, this is rascism. Female features are not a story, this is discrimination. Clothes that are not what you would wear is not a story, this is prejudice. Lines, sharp lines, these mean stress.
Stress is everything you want to call it, standard work stress all the way up to violence, violence is stress, stress is confusion. VIolence and confusion do no exist without one another. Before I know anything about you I know where to stand, how close, how far.
Ultimately, if your face is full of sharpness I know you are cruel, beyond doubt know you are cruel, I know this because there is nothing uglier in this world than cruelty, there is nothing uglier in this world than the lines on your face.
Every single time I see sharpness around my eyes, I reflect immediately, I am doing something categorically wrong. I review my past interactions with everyone and everything, myseld, until I find the cause of that stess. I fix my part in it and remove it from my life.
The stress is easy to identify, the probably eight million for you right now, it is all the rubbish rattling around in your head.
This person did this, they did that, the media, the government, work, my brother, father, wife, son, daughter, all these things not doing what I tell them to do. This stuff constantly repeating, and many more topics, are the stress your life is drowning in. Just constant rubbish chit chat in your mind, never a moment of peace, this is what your face shows, it is the stress, the lines I am talking about.
All of this is a distraction, is it what your face is trying to tell you, you are blaming and blaming and shit is getting worse for you, yet you still cannot understand. It is your blaming, rather than taking repsonsibility for yourself, what you project to the world, which the problem in the first place.
I have a couple of sharp things I am wokring on, I also only have two repetitive narrative’s in my head, these are simple for me to work with. Getting a root, which isn’t actually getting a root, it’s intimacy. Intimacy being I can freely express myself in your company, you can freely express yourself on mine. Isolation, this is one, it is the big one.
Quitting cigarettes, number two, but not so much because I know beyond doubt that is linked to the above, I am becoming more comfortable with it, I am seeing a stress line around my eye become more gentle in the process. I know I am heading in the right direction.
This is the simplicity in reading your own face, seeing what you are doing to yourself, literally look yourself in the eye in the mirror. Look for as long as you can, get to know your own eyes, your own body, your own self.
Once you identify and removes stresses, take personal ownership for your part in the relationship with the stresser you will also see the same changes as I do. They take time, it isn’t a, okay, I’m bad, fixed. They get gentler as you understand the badness in you. They get gentler because in the process you understand the goodness in you, you start to understand the choice, your face fades into what you want it to become.
Someone you want to look into the eyes of, you.
Mount Barney Lodge
An example, the cruelest woman I have ever met in my life and her lazy coward husband. Tracey and Innes Larkin, the owners of Mount Barney Lodge at, well, Mount Barney, Queensland.
Isn’t it funny before I introduce this subject fully. Fred and Barney back together again, we had a great time. Pebbles was there too, we had an extra great time, she is the lawnmower.
Four examples, key examples, other stuff along the way that led to me becoming officially homeless, homeless with less than seven hours notice. This was June 2024, my homelessness remains in tact as of April of 2025.
Time
The Gregorian calendar, the calendar we currently use, the numbers on a clock, these things mean nothing to me while they often get in the way. It’s one of the reasons I will never work a standard work cycle again. I work and live by a different cycle, the one that matters.
The closest thing I have to a clock is my sleep/wake cycle, generally asleep at 8:30pm every night and up at 5am, rarely any change, maybe with 15 minutes. When I am getting right stuck into the current topic in my process sometimes I wake up at three, at the time choose to get up or not, depends on how the body feels.
How my body feels, the only clock I live by. When I am tired I sleep, hungry eat, motivated do shit, unmotivated don’t do shit.
It gets in the way sometimes though, like today. It is Easter Monday, the owner’s of the property I have been in are home today, I left earlier than originally planned to run some errands before the next spot. Town is very quiet, the first errand is breakfast, most cafes are closed at 7:30 today, it clicks, Easter Monday.
Any errands are likely going to have to wait, except for one, it will be brought forward. Mushroom season has very very likely started at one of the spots on the way, I definitely get to do this errand. Public holiday or no mushrooms growing do not care, the bush is always there and open for exploration.
Exercise, nothing better, just go into the bush and walk without a destination. Make sure you know where you came from so you don’t get lost but just wonder and look, breathe the fresh air, listen to the trees and the life around you, forage a little. Beautiful beautiful exercise.
I loved working at Mount Barney Lodge though, there was never a shortage of stuff to do, all stuff I loved. Innes was a great teacher too, as was Tracey when she was interested in what she was teaching, like the compost, otherwise not so much.
The problem with Innes and education however is nothing he says can be trusted outside of the practical. He told his Groundskeeper that venomous snakes do not climb, only non-venomous did. He is also an outdoor educator amongst the lodge, teaches people about bush craft and safety. This is a very harmful teaching.
I was luckily corrected the next day, vehemently, by a colleague when I pointed out a beautiful freshly shed snake skin on a pillar and said that I hear it cannot be venomous, it’s climbing. I then to confirm went and did some research. Peer-reviewed research. The very first paper, limited study, 32 species in Australia, found that venomous snakes do indeed climb. Including one of the most common and dangerous in these parts, the Great Eastern Brown Snake, deadly thing. It climbs.
It would have taken Innes as much time to confirm this belief, story he has heard from someone, as it did me but he does not confirm his information. Literally cannot be questioned on it, and when you do and your argument is valid he loses his shit, goes full toddler mode.
I’m setting the scene, these guys aren’t all shit human, just mostly.
I saw the ad for the job and accommodation on a noticeboard in Boonah on my way back to Lismore one day. I was after the bed, the job a bonus, especially given the title, Groundskeeper. Figured why not I’ll drop by and have a chat.
We had a chat, was great, told them all about the psychedelics and what I do and would do. They said, no sweat, we’ll give it a go anyway. I was very surprised but now I had a bed for a little while, an income, and no restriction with the exception of not talking to customers about what I do in my own time during work hours. It was all great and fair enough.
They showed me the accommodation, two caravans, disgusting, had not been touched in two years. There was vermon, they smelled like piss, were damp, mold growing everywhere. The fridge had what used to be fresh fruit, vegetables and bread two years ago. No exaggeration. Everything was disgusting.
They had one more person to interview however before they could confirm, he was on his way.
I went home to Lismore and received a call a few hours later, Job is yours. Can you come Thursday to start Friday? It is currently Tuesday maybey, ‘sure, Monday is better for me though, does it work for you?’ We really prefer you start Friday so we can show you some stuff. ‘Okay sure, see you Thursday afternoon.’
I arrive Thursday afternoon and nothing has been done to the caravans. They are fucking disgusting as can be still, these people are going to ask a person to move in and just leave it like this.
I agreed to make them presentable again as part of our deal, but being given filth to move into was the first understanding of what I was dealing with here.
My second was an early statement Tracey made when we were talking about my disinterest in being treated like a child. It’s just the way I am Fred, can’t be changed. This line said by someone who puts her whole world into yelling and screaming at others, protesting yes, to change.
Listening to yourself people, hypocrisy, no change will ever come when you are spitting out this rubbish. It is proven in this case, they stopped some Frackers from drilling the properties some years ago but they are back. Not fracking this time, but similar, geo something arather, drilling into the ground to pull shit out again.
Going back to the caravans. There is a beautiful Aboriginal man that does some work for them, the cultural stuff. There is a lot of broken in this man, a brokenness that wouldn’t stop him from sleeping and living in this filth. He said to me he would’ve, all I could say in response was ‘I know mate.’
Before I went to sleep that night I put about five hours into the one I would live in, it would take another 25 to be comfortable to sleep in it. That’s just the cleaning. Disgusting people but beautiful people at the same time, they took a chance on me.
I could not be any more grateful, it’s why I’m going to rip into them 🙂