The Symphony Within: How Food’s Vibrational Patterns Shape Our Health

About The Importance of Eating Happy Foods — Especially Liver

I used to be anti-liver. I hated the taste, the smell, and the texture of liver. Why such animosity against an organ? Because I carried a negative imprint, an erroneous memory of what liver stands for.

When I was in primary school, my teacher tried to force me to eat a piece of what looked like a turd laden with, I believed then, the junk that takes away the power of Supermen.

She told me I was a good student. But, I had no hope for the future if I couldn’t follow standard nutritional guidelines and eat what was on the plate, which supposedly contained everything I needed to become strong.

“Liver will turn you into a man,” she said.

The stuff I was looking at didn’t contain the said powers. I could feel it. Anyone with antennas could have told it was synthetic Scheiße from Dr. Moreau’s lab. As far as I was concerned, it was kryptonite.

“Eat it,” she said, hovering above me like an animated gargoyle.

The rest of the kids in the canteen stared at us — a defining moment — we were all afraid of her. This woman was a control freak. She smelled like a wet rhino. It was clear she didn’t like children, so she probably became a teacher to torture the hell out of innocent creatures.

I refused — a move that cost me a significant investment of pain for the following years of my formative life. She stayed on my case like a bad-tempered drill instructor in the Marine Corps, heaving punishments for one-nothingness-after-another.

I was too young to understand that humans can project their trauma without having any idea of what they’re doing, especially if they eat processed food out of cans. She taught me that we should listen to our intuition, especially when we’re young, rather than authority figures. Additionally, adults don’t usually deserve the respect they expect since “growing up” usually has more to do with ingraining already adulterated belief systems than growing wiser.

In hindsight, I was right about the food they gave us in the canteen. It mainly consisted of traumatized animals vacuum-sucked into aluminum jars and conserved with Group 1 carcinogens. Imagine how much worse it is for the current generation. Today, kids choose between high-fructose corn candy and seed-oil-infested chips, believing that a human brain and body can operate on crack. And they are correct, by the way. The brain and body adapt to anything. The cost bleeds into their health- and attention span.

Back to liver — the real sort.

When you have a happy animal, like a cow, grazing and eating fresh grass, free under the sun, unjected with antibiotics and the other drugs they use on livestock forced to live outside the Nuremberg Principles, you’re dealing with an entirely different, conscious species.

Take the Brahman cow in Costa Rica. It is a gentle, wise-looking animal that checks you out carefully before approaching to say hello. Brahman is very picky about the people they interact with. They’re nimble and jacked with energy. They smile and bounce around on the fields — tuned into their environment like ballet dancers, unlike their heavily drugged junkie brothers — the Holstein-Friesian breed we generally meet in Europe and America.

The Holstein-Friesian doesn’t meet your eye. No way. They can barely lift their heads with a “moo” when you get too close — buzzed out of their minds- the character we associate with being a “cow.” However, the personality differences between Brahman and Holstein-Friesian are not due to their DNA. It’s the level of junk they eat and get spritzed with — exactly like in downtime L.A. or any metropole nowadays.

Imagine an underpass of zombies. Imagine terabytes of corrupt information on your hard drive. Then imagine that liver stores all the information of your life — every bit of nutrition, thoughts, deeds, and sentiments — whether you’re a junkie or an Einstein or an Epstein or a Brahman.

The liver is a multifunctional powerhouse, performing over 500 vital tasks to maintain homeostasis. It processes intake into energy and nutrients, eliminates toxins, recycles blood cells, and stores essential vitamins, iron, and glucose for when the body needs an extra boost. As a nutritional powerhouse, liver is rich in Vitamin A for vision, immune health, and skin and packed with B Vitamins crucial for blood and brain health, particularly B2 and B6 for energy and neurotransmission.

With easily absorbed heme iron, liver is superior for combatting iron deficiency anemia. It’s a prime source of copper for heart, brain, and immune health and brims with CoQ10 for energy and cardiac function, offering all essential amino acids and a spectrum of trace elements like selenium, zinc, and phosphorus, supporting everything from immune defense to bone health.

But all of this normative biochemical data misses the point.

Liver is data, just like every living organism, whether it’s a plant or an animal.

When an animal donates its liver — or a part or its rib, a tenderloin, short loin, or sirloin — you must take the gift seriously and treat it like you just inherited someone’s collective experiences — hopefully a smidgeon of wisdom, too.

Correctly prepared, the data will be passed onto the person consuming it — you — thereby also taking on the aspects of the animal who previously carried the organ. This is especially true with the liver, since it’s basically a memory unit of the cow’s life.

Today, I took the liver of a verifiably happy Brahman and put it in a pan with an idea of who that animal once was.

I added good fats — coconut oil, butter, and lard. The more saturated fats, the better for the heart.

Then came the sea salt, chili, onions, garlic, lemon, and a tiny splash of Bordeaux.

After the initial quick boil, I put it on a small flame and left it to simmer for an hour. Then, I let it cool down for about 10 minutes. I prepared quinoa and guacamole for the side.

The reward? Inexplicable. The flavor goes beyond the event horizon of taste buds because it’s connected to the Source of what life is all about — a subtle electromagnetic field that contains bits of the past, the present, and the future.

It’s hard to find restaurants where you can buy food like this, not even the best five-star variety. First of all, most restaurants nowadays use seed oils — a slow-acting bioweapon when it comes to gut health. But even more importantly, most kitchens have forgotten the essential secret of the culinary arts.

Food is not just biochemistry — an art of sprinkling this and that in just the right proportions. Food is emotion, frequency, and information. Food is alchemy that interferes constructively and deconstructively with the life fields of the cook and the cooked.

Food is love — essentially.

The person lucky enough to feast on a conscious plate of nutrients carries on the spirit of the animal he consumes.

I’m not a chef or even a slightly trained cook. I’m far from an expert on boiling an egg, but I am guessing that if we adopt the proper art of preparing food, we may have a shot at saving humanity.

Okay, maybe not — but the art may contain the seeds of knowledge we need to teach our children to prevent them from getting trapped in a permanent Disneyland simulation, as their brains get softer and more distracted the more crap they eat.

I think about that a lot nowadays — what can my son and his comrades learn from us, the last tribe of the “modern civilization”?

The art of liver preparation may be a good starting point, as it taps into the ancient understanding of life transitioning indefinitely in various energetic forms, accumulating knowledge, and the tastier aspects of life — if we learn to pass on the vibration.

I wouldn’t know — unless I ate happy liver.

Incidentally, I also decided to forgive my teacher from half a century ago. It’s been nagging my subconscious, but no more. May she rest in pieces. I mean peace.