The Nest

“The Nest” – oil on canvas, © 2024 D. Yael Bernhard

This is a therapeutic image, painted for my own personal healing – or rather, to anchor a healing experience. I don’t get to do this kind of art very often, but it happened this summer when my lower back pain reached a certain nadir. I had tried many treatments, including massage, acupuncture, and craniosacral therapy, over the previous sixteen months, and all had helped – but not enough. After a year and a half of daily pain and increasingly limited activities, I was ready to try something new. Finally I gave in to pressure, and submitted to a cortisone injection into my spine.

Perhaps this trajectory is familiar to you. According to ChatGPT, 80% of Americans experience low back pain at some point in their lives, and for 10% of the population, that pain is chronic. For me, the steroid reduced the inflammation and improved the pain by about 20% – not bad, except for the side effects, which I won’t go into here. A second injection was recommended, but out of the question. I was running out of options.

That’s when the notion of ketamine-assisted therapy ripened from an intriguing idea into a real consideration. I was referred to Donna, a superb therapist at the Woodstock Therapy Center, who specializes in this novel treatment. Her compassion and confidence set me at ease. The drug was prescribed by a medical doctor, and the treatment is completely legal.

Ketamine is extremely pleasant, and for me, a gentle experience of soft colors and evocative visions – but no hallucinations. This powerful anesthetic psychedelic inflates dendrites (the receiving end of nerves) and floods the brain with neuroplasticity. The effect is likened to a fresh layer of soft snow falling on top of frozen pathways that haven’t melted for years. Stuck neural networks are covered in fresh, clean snow, enabling new ones to form. Ketamine is used to treat intractable depression, anxiety, OCD, chronic pain – anything that involves errant neural networks misfiring in a negative pattern.

As a visual artist, I wanted to anchor some of my visions, including this most vivid one of floating in gradients of color ranging from yellow-green to periwinkle. It was wonderful being sandwiched in these colors. I was weightless, with no strain on my back or my brain, which finally relaxed, releasing the many burdens of daily life. As I floated, I saw this woman holding a bird’s nest on her belly – was she me? It did not matter. A pair of birds, iridescent blue, flitted to and from the nest, where two perfect eggs lay incubating.

And that was it. Ketamine only lasts for an hour, but it was enough to effect a significant change. I emerged into the afternoon sun and went about my day, my outlook sparkling as if washed clean by spring rain. Two days later, my back pain was 80% gone. I broke through my hesitation to adopt a dog, and found a beloved Beagle mix at the local humane society. I was able to reliably walk her every morning without excruciating spasms. Three weeks later I did a second treatment, and my back pain is now 95% gone. I’ve resumed all my usual activities, including West African dance, running, gardening, and even hiking. The only remaining difficulty is stretching. Curiously, yoga is not yet possible. I’ll get there, I’m sure.

Painting the gradients in The Nest brought back the relaxed mood of my experience on ketamine. Slowly, patiently, I tried to blend the colors together to the point of eliminating all visible brushstrokes. That’s how softly the colors transitioned. That’s how effortless change can be. The entire vision had appeared clearly in my mind’s eye exactly as you see it here. With no detail, there was little interpretation in bringing it into form. This is quite unusual, as the visions in my mind’s eye usually transform quite a bit as they manifest. Not this one.

It was refreshing to paint without detail for a change, for most illustration work involves a great deal of subject matter. I allowed myself the pleasure of spreading out over a larger canvas than usual, about four feet wide. And for once, I tried not to watch the clock while I worked.

Perhaps these gentle waters are the amniotic fluid of my psyche, holding me in pure, buoyant colors while a new phase of life gestates. I don’t know where this vision came from, or what it truly means. But I love those shimmering little birds, and wanted to preserve them as best I could. What a privilege, to hold the little nest with their precious eggs. So far, whatever those eggs hatched has been a blessing.

This painting is for sale – please inquire if you’re interested.

A good week to all!

D. Yael Bernhard

https://dyaelbernhard.com

Have you seen my other Substack, The Art of Health? In addition to being a visual artist, I’m also a certified integrative health & nutrition coach with a lifelong passion for natural food cooking and herbal medicine. Now in its second year, this illustrated newsletter explores cutting-edge concepts of nutrition. I strive to make relevant information clear and accessible, and to anchor essential health concepts in unique images. Check it out, and if you like it, please subscribe and help spread the word. Your support keeps my work going!