The Code of Medicine

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What is medicine? Medicine in its essence is the art of using a microscope. It is essentially to see what is unseen to the human eye. As such it has evolved from spiritual and perceptual insight into the cause of illness to the ability through science to literally see the unseeable. When we can see through a lens the cause of illness we are able to bring healing. We can ascertain the next steps. We then give the patient instruction to follow to become well.

The word MEDICI in our context comes from the word MEDICINE. It would be difficult to convince someone in Europe of how it is pronounced, as they would pronounce it in the Italian way, as in the town of Medici. In North America, we have a different pronunciation, and it is a derivative of a word. It is used in the international mental health code: CODE MEDICI. They have even made entire TV series on this word. Originally Galileo came from the town of Medici.

Because Galileo was severely persecuted and thrown in prison by the Roman Catholic Church for having different thoughts and beliefs than other people, and the church itself believed the sun revolved around the earth at the time, and that the earth is central to all creation. From science we now know that Galileo was right, and science has a way of proving a lot of people right who thought differently. The earth does revolve around the sun, as do all the planets. This is interesting because the sun is referred to as masculine in symbolism, and in gender. The moon is referred to as feminine. The French categorizations of all nouns as masculine and feminine also concur with mythology.

In conclusion, we now know that we should not persecute or diagnose people who think differently than we do, for they may be great artists, scientists or philosophers, proven by time not discoveries on them, or ulterior evidence.


I originally founded CODE MEDICI in the USA as an international non-profit, on Canada Day 2009. It was dissolved five years later for lack of funding, and an even sadder lack of dedicated board members. I was literally talking to myself at my empty board meetings, eating the Peek Freans and drinking Earl Grey. (The real Earl Grey was invisible but he was interested at the time.) That should never happen to a anyone, but it is an idea whose time has come if we see through the fog because of a lighthouse in a pandemic. (The lighthouse was our official symbol by the way).

I have a lot of sympathy for people who run non-profits, but not until the tears are literally running out of my eyes. There is a puddle on the floor at this moment. I am drinking tears for food at my unpopularity.

I have founded a face book page by this name that people can like.

I chose this code to refer to the large variance of occurrences that people could engage in that might not be illegal, they might be the result of a mental health condition. Thus we have colour-coded all these incidents, or accidents, and labelled and categorized them under the International Mental Health Code.

I will next be doing a Fellowship in Psychiatry, to be overseen by a psychiatrist as I work with five mental health patients. I am enthused about this new course of study, and will be leaning about how natural medicine is redefining psychiatry to make it actually work to bring changes in people’s lives. I have also been accepted to get my Master’s Degree in Neuroscience at King’s College in the UK. This program will be by distance learning however and starts next year. In the meantime I am going into hiding.

One CODE MEDICI table is an example of the coding I use to neutralize emotional, spiritual or physical illness by colour. It would be good to memorize so you can use it as needed.

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You can read the table for yourself. It is at the end of the book A Familiar Shore, which is available for free download. Click here for this offer.


Pioneering A Claim

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The Pigeon Boxes

Pigeons flew

in grey and blue,

they rose in fluttering wing,

they clucked and wept,

they cooed and in a precise

and orderly way

the wind swept

them into the square.


There was a set of wooden boxes

on the roof—

of an oversized apartment building

that was the white colour

of a spaceship from Star Wars.

Every day the birds landed

and nestled in their boxes,

covertly denying the

measure of breezes

and hiding their beaks

in their feathers.


A small boy opened his window—

and spoke out loud.

If there were two witnesses,

would they distribute the seed

beneath my branches?


Would they weep in the night,

a bittersweet song,

would they disappear

with the morning light?

A pigeon, blue-grey,

died with a missing heart

among the wood boxes;

she had been cooing reticent

honours to the murmuring.


The pigeon boxes

collected straw.

Millet seed

dispersed over the ground,

and the birds flew in from the sky.


Only one was left dead when the girl

returned, softly singing.

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(A poem from my next book, Love in the Time of Plague)

I was offered a contract for my next book of poem from a publisher in the UK. I am looking forward to this next project, as a gift of love to the UK during this time. Though I publish my prose under the name LS and my poetry under EI, my initials used to be SEA and that is how I designed my first Gaudi exhibit in photography online. (My husband went to Spain and brought me home a postcard from a Gaudi exhibit, and olive oil in a bottle like wine from a 17,000 year old gnarled tree.) Within weeks I was calling up the Harrison Art Exhibit and asking what it took to enter.

I wrote this poem for my next book to exemplify the difference between the Holy Spirit and the occult. This occult is, by its name, something that can not be mentioned. If I could not be mentioned or acknowledged—then I would, by nature, be occult. This is also a medical term for something that can not be seen with the human eye. Perhaps this is not as noticeable to the average person, but it seems like in the Jewish Old Testament, you could sacrifice a dove or a pigeon for a newborn baby’s first temple visit. Here, you see that with some children it might not matter which it was, but in the case of Jesus I believe it was a dove sacrificed. I believe this would be a prophetic claim on my part because not many people would stake such a claim. They would be sure they could say one way or the other. I believe because of New Testament symbolism, and the symbol of a dove after the flood of Noah in Genesis, that Jesus would have had discerning parents—who would have used the dove as a symbol. Using a pigeon would have looked occult.

Now usually in life, we are having a good time, eating pizza and watching the game. I think I once sold over 50 pizzas on Super Bowl Sunday at Save-On-Foods—but the same day someone died. It was quite a dark result; the person was still quite young, and no one expected it. We don’t always notice these coincidences. For example, I once drove up to the bank in the middle of the night and was faced with overt Satanism. Someone had left the remains of a ritual sacrifice. Now this seems like a dark topic, but these are dark days. I took the body of the pigeon with its heart cut out and wrapped it in newspaper and placed it in the back of my car. This was so no one would find the body by accident and be distressed.

Now I know that Satanism exists and that it is real. This was no surprise to me, but I took the body so no one else would find it. I disposed of it discreetly after some prayer. It takes courage to believe in divine appointments, but everywhere I go I am faced with that reality. I had to pull up in the dark at exactly that location to open the door and find it right in front of me. One foot more and I would have missed it.

Likewise whenever I go a a coffee shop nowadays. There is usually someone at the next table, and twice now they have been Christians, talking about the Lord and the times we live in. It takes me less and less courage to introduce myself as they are leaving, and give them my card. I hope I will be a light in the darkness to people who are wondering what God is up to in this world. Maybe they will read my website or my blog and have a candle to see by.

I have entered a new contest; it is a new chapter in my life as I write. I am going to begin a new novel, now that I have downed a fair amount of Virginia Woolf, and have a feel for train of thought writing. I am also trying my hand at writing some erotic poetry, although it is mainly using phallic symbols, and symbolism or metaphors in general. When I write a poem, I look for phallic symbols, as if they are something I don’t want to be caught with, and weed them out. I think I have only ever written one phallic poem in my whole life, and that was a rather innocent gesture.

In these two poems I submitted for the Love and Eros contest, I contemplate the idea of women having power without men, how they got to that place, and whether they would rather be in relationships with women, or even have children with them. Here is an example.

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The Mahogany

Her high heels clicked

on the marble floor.

The diamonds in her ring

sparkled like they had been rinsed

with Dove.

This is it:

“You’ve arrived.”

They stared out over

the city. They were both brunettes.

I am glass,

I am a tower,

and the tallest,

rising 26 floors

in the city in the country.

Eyes clear, blink, blink,

a Picasso.

Into the sky it roams;

a girl in a black bonnet

with a stork wielded over

its frame in the moonlight.

Cinderella in the street

raised her head—

a salute.

—Lilith Street