For months, I’ve been trying to make sense of what’s happening inside my body.
I’ve had scans. I’ve seen specialists. I’ve asked the questions and followed the protocols. And still — the pain persists. Shifting. Pulsing. Returning in new forms. My hip, my groin, my low back, my sacrum, my sciatic nerve — it’s a constellation of discomfort that no clear diagnosis has explained.
But something happened recently that changed everything.
And it didn’t come from a doctor.
It came from me.
The Revelation
It was just after 1 a.m. on May 15th.
I was lying in my hammock inside my van, parked in Mars Hill after a long day. I had just turned out the lights and set my phone to airplane mode, hoping to fall asleep before my appointment the next morning with Dr. K.
But then — like a whisper from the deeper intelligence of my body — it dropped in:
“Your hip was rotated too far. The geometry is off. The internal tension is real.”
It wasn’t a thought. It wasn’t fear.
It was a knowing — ancient, cellular, undeniable.
And as soon as I received it, I felt it. Not just as a theory — but as a physical reality I had sensed all along.
Something shifted that night. Not structurally, at least not yet — but perceptually. Because for the first time, I let myself trust what I had been suspecting for months:
This pain might not be inflammation, weakness, or reactivity.
It might be geometry. A bind. An overcorrection during surgery.
And my body has been whispering it to me all along.
Pain as a Patterned Messenger
Since that moment, I’ve seen my pain differently.
It travels — not chaotically, but with rhythm. From my low back into my groin. Down the back of my leg. It pulses, it repositions, it speaks in waves. And when I get still — or when I work with plant medicine, like cannabis — I can feel it more clearly.
THC doesn’t numb me — it reveals. When I work with it intentionally, it can open creativity, deepen my sacred dialogue, and sharpen my inner mirror. But it’s not always easeful. Sometimes that mirror reflects my shadow — my overthinking, my energetic entanglements.
For me, cannabis is not an escape. It’s a tool — one that can clarify or distort, depending on how I enter the space.
A System in Distress
This is the language I know best — system design.
And my body is a system. My muscles, tendons, fascia, nerves — all part of an intricate architecture of function. And when one part is altered without full system recalibration, something compensates. Something binds. Something breaks down.
What I now believe is that the surgical correction rotated my femur too far — possibly by 36°, based on what I was told post-op. And that change, while deemed “successful” on paper, may have pulled the surrounding tissues into a state of chronic compensation and entrapment.
Here’s what my recent MRI revealed:
- Diffuse fraying of the right gluteus medius tendon
- Thinning of the iliopsoas tendon
- Asymmetric atrophy in the piriformis, obturator internus, and pectineus
- Thickened pseudocapsule possibly suggesting adverse local tissue response
- And still, no intrinsic issue with the implant itself
This image shows the very architecture my body is drawing attention to — the muscular and neural network around the hip joint. It’s one thing to read these findings. It’s another to see the complexity our bodies carry when the system is under stress.
So, What’s left?
A system trying to tell the truth in the only language it knows — sensation.
What Now?
I don’t know exactly where this will lead.
I’m still researching. Still listening. Still sitting with it.
But I’ve crossed a threshold. And it’s not just about pain — it’s about trust.
I no longer need external validation to believe my body’s wisdom.
I don’t need a doctor to confirm what I already feel.
My lived experience is legitimate.
My intuition is anatomical.
And so I share this not as a solution — but as a signal.
To those who are in pain and being dismissed.
To those who know something’s off and can’t “prove” it.
To those healing not just from injury, but from medical gaslighting and spiritual disconnection.
Closing Reflection
Your body remembers what your mind can’t see.
Your pain is not always the enemy — it is sometimes the most honest witness you have.
And if no one else is listening, listen anyway.
Because the truth of your geometry — physical, emotional, spiritual — is sacred.
And you are the one who knows its shape best.
More soon,
— Joshua
Thank you for walking this path with me.
If something in this reflection stirred you, I’d love to hear from you.
Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu — May all beings be happy and free. 