lessons

31. LIFE HAPPENS

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

By the summer of 2008, I got reconnected to my old way of communicating with spirit. Something I called conversations with God as a kid transformed that summer into Q&A. I got a brand-new journal and dedicated it to conversations with my higher self and began on July 11th 2008 my divine Q&A…

Q: What do I release?
A: Your fear

I didn’t like that answer, so I asked the question differently…

Q: What do I sacrifice in my life to make room for abundance?
A: Your Fear

Hmm. My Higher Self was being evasive…

Q: What am I afraid of?
A: Not being good enough to complete your mission
Not being your truth
Not returning home
Being alone—separated
Leaving behind what you love…

Q: I must release all this??
A: Just the fear. The rest will fall into place. Have faith—easy for you. Do not be discouraged by others nor by life. All obstacles are tests that strengthen your character. Ask for help—you are surrounded by those willing to be of assistance if you but ask. Don’t push them away with your fear.

Wow! She really knew me!

Q: So much I know, but am not yet. When will I be?
A: You are complete—yihidra

Still no practical answers. Seems like spirit communicates in riddles. Same with my old gurus, not much was given in clear steps, but rather comfort in general. I tried again…

Q: Ok, so what human step must I take right now?
A: Be Joy. Love All. When the time is ripe you shall receive the full rich harvest.

Q: So the time is not yet right?
A: Ripe.

Q: Ripe?
A: The fall is the time to harvest.

Q: Hmm. What now?
A: Enjoy the time you have with your loved ones.

Q: But I love too much…
A: Not possible. You do take on too much. Others are not your responsibility. Free will is theirs. You are here to enlighten with the model of your life, your being. They may not wake up. They may not follow. They may choose darkness. Let them go…

And from then on, I was reconnected with my higher self.

Many more questions were answered. Yet the most unique aspect of this journal is my conversations with my Higher Self were the reflections upon looking at insights given in the past and living the present circumstance. For the Divine, there is no Time. Only the human me defines herself by the past, the present and the future, yet all exist in the Now.

My higher-self identified herself as …I am You. Divinely connected. Remembering all that was, all that is, all that will be. I am Timeless. You are me in earthbound form. I am you in heavenly connection.

28. FAMILY TIES

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

Learning to be my truth within my family of origin has taken a very long time. It is our soul work to witness our lessons in the mirror of those we love. And families are magnifying lenses…

Dec 23rd, 2003

Off to Utah for the family holidays. Anxious premonitions of my beloved Santa cup breaking. After 20 years of keeping them safe for my sisters, I tried to pack them carefully, but one tumbled out of the car, so I traded my unscathed cup for the fractured one. This trip is about breaking attachments, perhaps to things, but yet deeper, to what I believed my sisters to be. As I am coming to know myself as joyous passion I shall recognize who they are as love. So many sister dreams lately. Since childhood, I have flown in my dreams stringing them along like Peter Pan, barely able to get them off the ground. Lately in my dreams, I do not hold their hands, but try to teach them to fly on their own, but they resist. I feel tired, saddened. Will my sisters throw me out like Yeshua was thrown out of Nazareth? Strangers can be more accepting than those closest when you change too rapidly.

Dec 26th, 2003 A snowstorm traps us in the house, playing games, memories abound. On Christmas Eve, I experienced the power of the loving-kindness prayer. The family gathered around my sister’s large kitchen island arguing about the Cody Bank’s rape charge. When the manner in which the victim dressed was blamed, I felt the urge to jump into the fray, yet stopped and silently asked that my fear be lifted and I be filled with light and love, then asked the same for each and every one of them. When I got to Kyra, she looked up and mouthed, “What are you doing?”

“Blessing us,” I silently replied. The tension melted. The brothers-in-law about to engage in fist a cuffs, laughed at another’s joke and all was well. This morning my youngest sister hugged me fiercely claiming she thinks about me every day. Lately I can say the same. I wish I could see beyond the possessive love in this family, the competitiveness, the criticism, the ego…especially mine—my ego is much too overwhelming. My muse is on holiday, but lots of purple around me, my aura brilliant whenever I close my eyes. Torn between gluttony and deprivation, defenseless in the face of my family without bulimia to protect me. Trapped in a house of mirrors. One: reflecting unforgiving close-mindedness, one: emotional, temperamental, quick to strike, yet a core of love, one: distant, shallow immersion, non-committal, one: lost in a world of self, one: poor self-esteem, critical of all, not knowing when to hold her tongue, my brothers-in-law, my nieces and nephews clueless bystanders, my husband supportive, policing my behavior. This journal my only escape…

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26. RIVER OF CONSCIOUSNESS

My dreams provide clues to my soul growth. How far I’ve come and what needs to be worked on. I interpret my dreams soulfully—what is my first impression, what feeling do I have about the dream, who were the players in my dream and how do they mirror me? Sometimes I wake up knowing my dream holds great significance—that I’ve dreamt for human consciousness. I had one of those dreams the summer of 2010…

I enter a house, the one with all the doors, all the rooms, the one I can never find my way out. I’ve been in the house many times. Always my extended family is there and there is always much chaos. But this time I am not frustrated but move through the house with ease. Just watching, seeing their light, smiling at the comedy, holding the energy.

I find my way to the back deck. For the first time, I am outside the house! Below is a creek and I yearn to get in it. So I climb down from the wooden deck and skip down the grassy hillside to the edge of the babbling creek. Then I just lay down in midair and float on the water. It’s glorious! The creek sings to me, gently carrying me through the forest.

I am enchanted. The view is amazing. Bright topaz sky, brilliant green leaves, rich brown earth kissing the clear water. The energy is palpable. Soon the creek becomes a river wide and rushing. There are people in and out of the water. Most are hanging onto the banks. Some are constructing rafts. They seem so anxious. Children play joyously in the shallows. I float on.

Through the rushing river, past rocks, and over waterfalls. Never do I encounter any obstacles. Although many others get banged up in the rapids. The river spills into a swamp and I lie taking in the serenity of still waters.

Then past a bog, the current picks up faster and faster until over a waterfall, I spill into the…ocean! I am submerged, surrounded by sea life in the jewel green waters. When I float to the surface, I find chaos—people all around, shipwrecks, airplanes bombing, screaming, crying, and—teens surfing with dolphins, children romping in the surf, sandcastles rising.

I emerge from the ocean, like Aphrodite, dressed in goddess white, the sun drying my garments as my feet cross the sand. And there I meet my Higher Self. The golden one with amethyst wings. Her arms open welcoming me home. “Again!” I cry delighted, “I want to do it again!” And she escorts me back to float in the river of consciousness.

Life is a river. Didn’t Garth Brooks sing that tune? Funny while I am not a fan of any particular music, I am attracted to soulful lyrics and Mr. Brooks, among a few other artists, sings to my heart. He sings of a vessel that tries to stay between the shores of the river. I believe, this body is our vessel. And the river is consciousness. It wasn’t until after I wrote LoveDance that I understood how we float through life. Some struggle to stay afloat, some build rafts to forge the tide, some just enjoy the water. Now after much soul growth, I gratefully find myself

Flowing with the river of consciousness, open to the energies, accepting the sweet ripe fruits as they hang lusciously over the waters of life.

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon

19. IS THE MUSIC STILL PLAYING?

My LoveDance® feels complete…but oh, not yet. It is time to go deeper…time to open the past. I must admit that when I did open my mother’s cedar chest, the ghosts of Deborah past knocked me back on my butt. My left sciatic ached for days…birthing pains…time to go back to the beginning. To face the old me. I do not like the way I wrote then…hiding my truth behind too many words…but I shall include some of it…just to see how far I’ve come on my journey.


20. HOT TUB ADVICE

I’m in the Jacuzzi with Steve enjoying our morning coffee. In the oak sprawled above us, squirrels chatter at crows taking refuge from a pair of bossy jays. This land of ours is teaming with life. Only an acre yet separated into garden rooms so that it feels like three. My mare watches us as the goat rubs against the new gate. The dog pokes his head over the edge of the tub. Steve gives him an affectionate pat. “You know you should start at the end.”

“What?” Overhead, a golden hawk cries—messenger of the divine. I listen closely to my beloved.

“Well, I like books that start at the end then go back to how they got there.”

“I think that’s what is being asked of me…how did I get here?”

He smiles, “I meant for LoveDance®.”

I give him a kiss, “Yes, but this is My LoveDance®.”

He sighs, “You’re going to tell it all, aren’t you?”

Yes. Yes I am.

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon

16. SEEDS OF INTENTION

At the fall meeting of the Ojai Grandmother’s Council, we were reminded of the seeds of intention that we planted in the spring. Some could not remember their intentions, some remembered but did not tend them. I was acutely aware of mine. My birthday is on the Spring Equinox and every year I plant seeds of intention with the hopes of a great harvest come fall. That year my intention was to be open to receive abundance.

Oh, I have much. My life is very rich. A beautiful home, fertile land, healthy, happy children, an amazing relationship with my beloved husband, a fulfilling healthcare practice, yet I feel that there is more…that I am to go out into the world and share my wisdom…and to do that…I need resources…money and people to help…and although my business pays the bills, there is debt incurred to build the practice, to manufacture Genesis Gold®…and my book—LoveDance®—waiting for release.

Since planting my seeds of intention, I’d been acutely aware of the abundance in my life, living in gratitude as the universe has seen fit to challenge me…with death, and loss, and sacrifice. As if I had to empty my Soul Purse over and over to make room for the abundance to come.

That night… I have sequence of five dreams…

All the time I’m dreaming, I’m lucid. I fall in and out of sleep after a tremendous hot flash at 12:30—three hours after I fell asleep—and spend time rolling around considering what I should do about my hormonal challenge…then set my intention to know what it’s all about at the soul level and fall asleep…

…The first dream opens with a gathering of women in a great big house. I’m trying to settle in and my roommate shows up. One of my young patients and she’s distraught, hands me her pants. She needs another pair just like them. I tell her pants are expensive in…Italy…wow, that’s where we are!… and she hands me $50. I look at the pants…olive green suede polyester nothing wrong with them except a blood stain at the crotch. She is mortified that she started her period…this is the patient I saw last week who missed her period…I explain she can wash them out, but she will never wear them again—stained with women’s blood…I am saddened by her shame, I want to make it better for her…and then I see that she is me as a girl not at peace with my femininity and all women afraid they are unclean as the world has treated them. And I feel a deep sense of gratitude for finally embracing my feminine power…

…and the dream shifts. I’m with the same gathering, but so crowded, too many women… A fake sense of feminine power emanates from them—over inflated, dangerous—a roomful of women wearing pants under skirts. I need to get away. But it’s so crowded. Finally, I remember I can fly! I start to push off away from the crowded staircase…and another woman, one from my women’s circle…says “Hold her!” I am chased by two women, struggling to gain altitude through the crowded place, they grasp my trailing legs, but cannot catch me. I feel light but too low…the energy is one of a dog teasing its owners into a game of chase– I head for the light, but they close the opening before I can fly there…I’m trapped in a great big tent! …Lucid, I try to wake up…and realize until I get the message of the dream sequence, I’m not going anywhere…I fly up through ropes, tight ropes. Below me, all the women I’ve gotten involved with in this life and beyond—from girls scouts, to sorority sisters, to the nurse practitioners I led, and the women’s circle, the grandmothers, and interspersed are the women gurus who wove in and out of my life these past 13 years…all who wanted me to join them, to lead them… …my lucid self so happy to be flying again (I haven’t flown in my dreams since the women’s retreat just before the Autumn Equinox where we worked on our karmic imprints)…How funny that my subconscious traps me in a circus tent with crazy women. I laugh…

….and slip into another dream. A great gathering of all my dead patients. Everyone’s there…Eddie in the background—smoking! —Lacy, Michael, many whose names I’ve forgotten but not their faces—whole and healthy—and their energy. All doing whatever they please…peace emanates from them. The last patient I buried is there too. A sense of guilt carried from my waking world trickles into my dreamtime. Barbara is the spokeswoman and she’s explaining where Anna is on her spirit path so soon after her death. “There is no need for regret. You danced your best dance with each of us. We are where we need to be at this time in human consciousness.” Gran’s there too. And she is walking very strangely…like she’s in a space suit, sort of praying mantis like. I wonder if her walker would help, and Gran apologizes…it’s broken, how difficult it is to move on earth, so much easier over there. I have a catalog in my hands and pick out a handicap toilet for her…pink and orange!…which seems silly since I know Gran isn’t staying…and feel bad that we didn’t make these accommodations for her while she was alive. I show her the toilet. “I never had such a bright toilet!” she says, “but I don’t think I’ll need one. I’m not staying, dear. This is the first time you let me in.” True, she has visited Steve many times. I inquire about the others. She says “I have very nice visits with Steve, but the rest are harder.” I hope she isn’t spending too much time and effort trying to contact those who are not ready to receive her. She laughs and says, no she is very busy over there, but not to worry. Time is not an issue for her anymore and effort, well it is easier to be in the presence of love than fear… In my observer, lucid dreamer state, I want to spend more time with the dead, knowing it’s precious…it’s the first time I’ve dreamt of Gran and she feels so real…our conversations though bizarre yet so genuine. The only one I miss in the dreams is Hope…she’s not with the grateful dead…but I’m not sad. I know my beloved Great Dane, my Hope, is where she belongs…

…then I’m on a huge field, tossing a yellow grass-stained nerf football to a black dog and a blond boy. Every pass, they switch off, I’m not a good thrower and neither of them catch well. We pass through many other people’s games/lives, communicate with them and move on. All are men and boys…fathers and sons. Playing amongst a group of black men and boys, one of which compliments my butt as I bend over the tub to find the dog tied up like a broken doll almost fetal like. I keep finding its limp body left behind with the ball underwater. At first I dismiss the comment as I did in my youth with an excuse and then I replay the scene and graciously thank the man and he swells and merges with the other black men, their sons receiving their vibration as the sacred feminine received them…back to the fetal dog and used up ball left underwater…I realize the boy has moved on… this boy-dog issue I know is mine…my inner boy child leaving me and the spirit dog connecting him to the otherworld left behind…this is part of the healing the divine masculine within me…

…then I’m back in the house—my recurring house dream. Usually in the “house” dream, I am so frustrated…my sisters keep me from getting what I need to get done, I’m always cooking or cleaning and everything is a disaster…this time I am just watching while being in the midst of them…like I’m watching a home movie while being in it … this time, instead of wandering the never-ending rooms, and halls, I stay in the kitchen-family room where all the family is gathered. It’s our rental, yet I have no sense of ownership… The family has rented it before and now have a disaster with the microwave. I am surprised I am not making a fuss that they are trying to microwave a whole chicken… Steve even looks to me for a response, but it is like I am just observing, it’s all very funny and we’re playing our silly parts again and again with the same outcome, I even tease about some goofy fake fur pants I plan to get my brother-in-law, and my fashionable sister looks at me horrified… Later I am to meet Steve for a trip, he’s coming back to the house to pick me up, but my sister needs my car to go to work…and she’s dressed in these too big jeans, strange polka dot hose and heels, a vest she made up out of our dead PopPop’s pajama top and a nice leather jacket on top of it all. I send her out with my blessing, but need to get my purse out of the car because it has everything I need to go away with Steve. I’m surprised at the floppy little purse that seems so empty (my violet soul purse with a golden clasp)…I never carry purses in my dream…always have what I need somewhere on me… And then I am my daughter meeting her beloved to go to Hawaii. ..and I realize all is superfluous because I must get ready for a wedding…

Then I wake up!

The energy of the dreams was curiosity…taking a trip down the rabbit hole of my subconscious…and at times I try to get out but I know it’s all a dream and stay to learn more. There’s no fear, just bemusement. I know I am growing while in the dark dream state…I intended this before falling asleep …I know these dreams represent what I have cleared from my soul purse…my fears of being a woman, my tendencies to get captured by others and taken advantage of, the shame of failing in my healing practice, letting go of the boy to allow room for the divine masculine, being with my family all the interior mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, daughters, sons and not being smothered by my relationships with them but seeing the humor in life and being gracious with my humanity…then going on the next stage of my soul journey, preparing to experience the sacred marriage of divine feminine and divine masculine within me in the heart of the earth…starting all over again like newlyweds… The last sequence with the empty purse (I never dream of purses!) with Hope not part of the dead but so deeply embedded in my soul, not something to be cleared out of my soul “purse”… something to keep always.

This crazy dream sequence was in fact…the past six months of soul work from the time I planted the seed of intention to be open to receive abundance…through all the work of clearing out all that doesn’t serve me, and making room for a great harvest, a filling up of soul…a completeness of self…whole, finally to be whole.

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon

15. DEATH AND THE WHITE LIGHT

Eddie. He came to me in the fall of 2002, diagnosed with lung cancer. His lawyer, a patient of mine, suggested he consult with me. I was the clinical endocrine advisor in a research project using natural progesterone to treat cancer at the Sansum Medical Clinic so she thought I could help him.

Cancer is not my specialty. I specialize in neuro-immune-endocrinology which I believe is at the core of most dis-ease. So I spent two hours going over his history, looking for signs of age-related decline that could be at the root of his illness, trying to understand why this brilliant man’s body was failing him at 52, and explaining the biochemistry of cancer as related to the complicated system of hormonal miscommunication with DNA.

Exuding enthusiasm, Eddie asked, “So you have something to balance my ligands?” He was brilliant, one of the only patients who understood the scientific lingo of my theories. He was even open to the psycho-spiritual roots of dis-ease, including the irony of being afflicted with cancer after inventing thermal implants to treat brain tumors.

In fact, I did have something—a formula to balance the hypothalamic orchestration of the neuro-immune-endocrine system—but, in theory only. After completing pilot studies the year before, my personal funds ran out and I struggled to find a manufacturer to mix even a small batch. Eddie took my hand and offered to help.

“No,” I protested, “you came here for me to help you.”

“Perhaps I came to help you. My cancer was a fortuitous portal for our meeting.”

Thus began our journey to manufacture my formula so he might partake of it. He truly believed he would be cured by my invention. In the meantime, I researched natural treatment regimens, since he was opposed to conventional therapies, and spent much time counseling him and sharing many spiritual portals. He treated me as a beloved daughter, introducing me to colleagues who would forge the path to the birth of my nutraceutical product. Becoming attached, I searched for cures for his cancer.

The day I brought the first bottle of Genesis Gold® to him, he smiled, beckoned me closer and whispered, “I knew you could do it.”

It was his last lucid moment. At the request of his family I had been coming to his lovely villa in the hills of Santa Barbara to help him die. As a nurse practitioner, I treated the walking well. Some patients had passed over the years, usually of old age, occasionally untimely, but not since being a neophyte nurse had I witnessed death.

After graduating nursing school in 1983, I worked on a surgical floor at UCLA Medical Center. We saw the sickest of patients—heart transplants, complete surgical resections of the bowels, lung resections. My first encounter with death was a young woman, my age, dying of pancreatic cancer. When I arrived on the night shift and saw her Do Not Resuscitate order, I knew her family and physicians had given up.
Not me! I was not going to let her drown in her own secretions and stayed by her bedside suctioning her tracheostomy. Her intern refused to give me a permanent suction order so that I would take care of my other three patients, so I handed him the suction catheter and called the chief resident. My colleagues were appalled. No one called the chief in the middle of the night, especially not a nurse.

Amazingly, he wasn’t upset, but asked if I saw the DNR order. “Doctor, I’m not resuscitating her. I just don’t want her to be alone. I…” Seeing the intern escape down the hall, I tried to hang up on the chief.

“Oh, no, you don’t. We’re going to discuss why you can’t let her die.” I resisted, but he kept me on the phone until it was too late.

The charge nurse helped me prepare the young woman’s body for the morgue. And with tears, I was forced to let my patient go.

Twenty years later, I was not so resistant. Eddie’s family left me alone with him. I sat at his bedside and meditated on how I could help him pass. I had already counseled with each of his family members. When I thought of his recalcitrant son who had finally agreed to see his father after our phone conversation that morning, I felt a wave of gratitude. And it wasn’t mine, it was from Eddie. I opened my eyes.

His diminished energy, faded to non-existent in his limbs, now concentrated in his heart chakra, shimmered, and I gasped to see a funnel of light connect to him. He appeared to lift from his form—pure white light not the fiery red of his life force—and enter the conical shaped energy. Other light forms greeted him, ancestors and guides, passing him along to the end. And at the infinite end of this brilliant white light was pure Love. He was enveloped, embraced like long lost lovers, the encounter so intimate; I was torn between turning away in deference to such a private moment and watching in awe.

Suddenly, Eddie’s essence turned away from the Light and I was swept up into his perspective. It appeared as if the room where his body lay with me at his bedside, existed in a fishbowl. The reality was the Light, the physical existence, an illusion. So peaceful, so blissful, the Light was very familiar to me.

I remembered calling in the White Light to protect my little sisters while I was away at kindergarten and invoking the same White Light to surround my own children whenever I dropped them off for school. If I would forget, my daughter would remind me, “Mommy, do the White Light,” and I would swaddle her and her brother in the protection of the Light that had always comforted me. In that eternal moment, I recalled how the same White Light seemed to bathe my patients and me during a healing and was the one I used to calm injured animals before I treated them.

I had never been afraid of dying, although letting others go was difficult. My fear lay in being alone, separated from those I love by death. As a healer, I had taken a very long time to release my savior complex, to understand that I was not responsible for my patients’ illnesses, nor could I take credit for their cures. I was a midwife to their healing, holding the space in which they recovered or not—it was their choice.

That night after his son came to his bedside to say goodbye, Eddie died.

Two months later, I received my greatest opening and began writing my life’s work. Never a moment of writer’s block, it all just flowed in. The synchronicity of events, from the creative process, to publishing, to going out in the world to market has been amazing. Still, I am learning to ask for help and whenever I feel resistant, I hear Eddie, “Perhaps I am here to help you,” and open to receive another’s assistance.

Witnessing the rehearsal of his death was Eddie’s final gift to me. Death is a passing through the veil of illusion and into the truth. There is nothing to fear.

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon

12. PARTNERING WITH MY PATIENTS

After nine years of working as an employee first at an urgent care then with an ob-gyn, I had a dream…to start my own holistic health care practice.

So I left a private practice seeing 27 or more patients a day as an employee to slow down and spend quality time with my own patients; time that they gratefully compensated me for and then submitted their completed bill of services to their own insurance. Finally I was independent of the insurance industry. Soon a trend began as patients invested in their care became increasingly more responsible for their health.

My dearest patients supported my entrepreneurial nature by following me into my new integrative medical practice—Full Circle Family Health. One day I was evaluating a woman with postmenopausal bleeding and had an uneasy feeling. A few years earlier my intuition led me to discover a rare growth on her liver. She trusted my feelings and did not hesitate to agree to an ultrasound. That’s when we discovered the tumor.

I had diagnosed patients with cancer before. I had even lost a few to the disease. But this beloved patient was different. Her cancer became our dance floor. I learned to partner with Barbara to the rhythm of her dis-ease, to the changing beat of her desire, to the symphony of her life’s purpose. I held nothing back, dancing with her through choices that I may not have chosen, orchestrating a care plan that fit her needs—physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. I researched every option, conventional and alternative. She fought the good fight, but in the end…she showed me how to slow dance.

On the morning of her death, I felt Barbara as a bubble of delight floating through me. Not an hour later, her daughter called to tell me she had just passed. For the first time in 25 years of healing, I experienced the grace of death.

Like most health care professionals, I had viewed death of a patient as a failure and could not fully receive the gift of their passing. But hers, I embraced. I surrendered to loving her as a person, to getting close to her family, to being a part of her circle—truly Full Circle Family Health.

At the funeral, others commended me for coming. How could I not? I came to honor her, to support her family and to let her go. Like many of her loved ones, I shared my thoughts. Mostly I thanked her delightful spirit, free now from pain playing with her little grandson.
This is the way it used to be. Before insurance carriers and malpractice, we used to get involved with our patients. We knew their families, we birthed them, we helped them get through tough times in their lives, and we buried them. We understood the circle of life. They understood too. We respected one another; we were part of a community.

As I dance my dreams into reality, they expand to encompass all I love. Transforming my health care practice into one that supports my relationships, my health and my soul purpose—my LoveDance®—has allowed me to model a healthy balanced life which helps my patients achieve their goals. And those who are ripe for healing arrive from across the globe. They come because I dance their dance.

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon

8. SPIRIT ON A HUMAN JOURNEY

This life is not a spiritual journey. This is a human journey. My spirit chose this form to know itself as divine. But in answer to my friend’s question, it seems I began calling it a spiritual journey in 1997 when I opened my private health care practice. Full Circle Family Health. The physical manifestation of a dream.

I have dreamt every significant thing in my life. My beloved husband. My enlightened children. All my creations. Then perceiving the music, the vibration, the energy, I dance my dreams into reality. And as a holistic family nurse practitioner, I dance healing with my patients.

After nine years of gathering health care experience as an employee, I prayed to be shown a way to fulfill my soul purpose. I had a dream…to start my own holistic health care practice. I dreamt of my patients walking down a garden path into a healing home, where I had the space to practice truly integrated medicine and enough time to spend with my precious family, animals, and garden—dancing my dream.

Soon after Full Circle Family Health became a reality, the universe sent me the most challenging patients. Out of necessity and a great desire to know more, I became an expert in neuro-immune-endocrinology, a specialty which focuses on the bio-chemical communication network of the human body. It’s always about proper communication, isn’t it?

Well, I opened myself to receive whatever the universe might offer. The sickest most Hormonally Challenged patients came from all over California for my care. As my expertise grew, patients came from across the United States and then from Europe and South America. Word of mouth referrals kept me very busy.

Then I began getting referrals from energy healers. One in particular referred her clients for hormonal support. I was happy to comply. And very curious. This energy healer sent her clients to me with such precise descriptions of what was energetically going on in their bodies that I was able to scientifically assess and diagnose their dis-eases. Her clients got better—physically and energetically—and soon she became my patient.

Annette was very open to everything I could teach her about her body. She was going through menopause and needed hormonal support. I wanted to learn about her work. So we bartered.

My first session with Annette found me sitting across from her in a lotus position, eyes closed, hands resting in the “ok” position on my knees. She began to laugh. “You don’t remember who you are.”

“What do you mean? Am I not doing it right?”

“This is not your way. Go run with that black dog of yours.” How did she know about Ida? “And when she stops, follow her lead and sit down with her. See what comes.”

So I did. I was an avid runner and enjoyed racing across the trails with my dog. I rarely stopped to smell the roses let alone sit down. But I followed Annette’s advice. When Ida jumped up onto a huge boulder and sat down to look at me, I climbed up to sit by her, closed my eyes, took a deep breath and…a purple tear dropped into my mind’s eye, filled my head, spilled into every aspect of my being…and the answer to a problem came very clearly to me. Wow!

Soon I was meditating in my way. While I ran with my dog, rode my horse, danced in the garden…always the purple tear drop came and with it answers. I began to remember who I am.

Excerpt from My LoveDance

 

5. DANCING WITH MY SHADOW

MY LOVEDANCE -EBOOK IS FREE ON AMAZON FROM DECEMBER 8-13, 2016

On my son’s 26th birthday….I released my shadow self. No longer do I feel the obsessive urges, the anxiety that can only be quelled through binging and purging. It’s over. In the past I have been in recovery…during my two pregnancies and until my babies were weaned. Yet I struggled every day, became obsessive over every nutrient I consumed…not really free, only a temporary vacation from bulimia. And again when I wrote LoveDance. For exactly eight months I obsessively wrote—420,000 words—yet as soon as the muse left me, bulimia found me.

At my women’s retreat, I created a mask of my shadow self—Bulimic Deb—then danced with her before casting her into the flames…such a difficult thing to do. I mourned her death for weeks. I felt so profoundly afterwards. Every emotion I had not let myself feel—came in profound waves. Yet I was amazed at the underlying peace. I rode the waves of my emotions with a new found ease. I was at peace for the first time since I was 14. After 35 years on and off the bulimic wagon, I was free.

What does that mean? To be free of bulimia. Well, I no longer obsess about food. I feel hunger and then I eat and for the first time enjoy each bite. . I have my former trigger foods in my pantry. Not because I’m testing myself, but because I could not use all the chocolate chips I bought from Costco for my holiday baking. And I forget about them until the next time I feel like baking and am surprised to find a pound of chocolate chips…silent, no longer tempting me. Just me and chocolate happily co-existing. Not that I don’t crave dark chocolate every moon cycle and I do indulge, gratefully consuming each luscious piece feeling my serotonin raising with each bite.

I’ve always associated eating disorders with addictions. Such a horrible addiction because you cannot abstain from food, like you can from alcohol or drugs. And when I was bulimic, I had to abstain especially from my trigger foods. Over the past few years I desensitized myself by ritualizing my trigger foods. I started with dark chocolate. I ate it ceremoniously on fine china with a glass of red wine on a table set with lace under candle light while watching a feel good movie. All my senses were engaged in pleasure and from then on (that was in 2008) I have been able to consume dark chocolate in moderation without it triggering a binge. Not so milk chocolate…so that’s why forgetting about having chocolate chips in the house amazes me.

I do have one regret. When I cast my mask into the flames (and I was the last to do it…reluctant to let Bulimic Deb go) I felt the smoke was carried elsewhere. So two months later at Thanksgiving, I was not surprised to see one of my nieces bone thin and stuffing her face…the family curse, my sister calls it. An unresolved karmic imprint, I believe.

I do not feel guilt or shame related to food or my body. In fact I love my body. I am so grateful for this beautiful healthy body that has taught me my greatest lessons, protected me from my greatest fears, blessed me by being the most perfect vehicle for my transformation. After seven years in a cocoon of my making, I am emerging as a butterfly.

And I no longer feel like purging my emotions. Now I feel them, really sit within my heart to be with my emotions. And I have found a profound gratitude for my rich passionate emotions. So powerful they seem to control the weather. Or at least the climate of my relationships. And with this awareness, I have learned to ride the wave of my emotions…and let them go into the ocean of feeling that makes me human and connects me to all that is.

 

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Now available on Amazon.

4. SEVEN YEAR CYCLES

MY LOVEDANCE -EBOOK IS FREE ON AMAZON FROM DECEMBER 8-13, 2016

I am multi-sensory. We all are. Yet rarely admit it. Being clairsentient, clairvoyant, clairaudient is our nature, a soulful means of interpreting reality. When I was a little girl, I thought everyone felt the plants, heard the animals, saw the energies hovering over the earth and around people. I thought everyone had lucid dreams, knew the answers on tests, could tell what their parents were feeling in spite of their words. I still think we all have this capability. Yet most of us are taught that the world of the imaginal is just that…imagination. Not real.

I have a curious mind. My left brain is extremely active. I need to organize what I know. Bridge the gap between feeling and logic. I love numbers, math, patterns. There is a flow to life. Six months before my 50th birthday, I consulted with an astrologer who charted my life in 29 year lunar cycles. I was fascinated with the accuracy of interpretation. I was born under a tiny crescent moon on the Spring Equinox of 1961. My life has unfolded beautifully in seven year cycles…and it’s happening again.

In 2003, I birthed my nutraceutical Genesis Gold and my book LoveDance. Both have changed my life dramatically. A week before Genesis Gold was finally bottled my beloved old mare died, then a week after that, the man who helped me get my creation manufactured died. Death has preceded birth every single time…My life has unfolded in seven year cycles…like the phases of the moon…

September 26, 1969. I am eight years old. A great fire is raging in the dry hills behind our neighborhood. I am holding the ladder steady so my mother will not fall as she waters down our roof to prevent our house from catching fire. My sisters are watching television…the debut of The Brady Bunch…I really want to see it. Yet I am separated from the children. I am older than them…not just in age but my soul is older. All our neighbors are packing up their cars. They’re leaving. My mother is very worried. My father is not here. In that moment as my mother’s fear and anger pours down upon me like the smoke pouring down the hillside, I feel the weight of the world. The death of innocence…preceded the year before by the first death in my life. Our Easter bunny was killed by our Samoyed. Life is precious. You have to take care of the ones you love. I have spent the past seven years taking care of my parents and sisters. The next seven years, I learn how to depend solely on me.

Summer of 1975. I am fourteen. Walking with my sisters back to the pool. Poppop just bought us ice cream. Daddy is behind us talking to Pop. He calls up to me, “Debbie, your elbows are showing.” I know exactly what he means. It is our family code for “your bathing suit has crept up your butt”. Deftly I remedy the situation, yet this time I hear in his voice a different tone and I feel strange. Daddy sees me as a young woman. I look around me…three little sisters I am responsible for, a mother who feels diminished, a grandmother here on holiday but not here to support me through this time…she fears the blood as much as Momma, as much as every adult woman I know. I look at the ice cream dripping down my hand. This is the last ice cream I will ever eat. That moment I become anorexic. By the time I start high school, I’m twenty pounds lighter. My periods and breasts are gone. And I experience the second death…I find my mare’s aborted foal and take it to school so my biology teacher can display it in a giant pickle jar. Science intrigues me. For seven years, I devote my energy to being the top in my class…fully cognizant that I am preparing for a career in health care…to legitimize my “knowing”.

December, 1982. I am twenty-one. My beloved grandparents finally come to live in California. As soon as Poppop steps off the plane, I know he’s dying. I cannot save him. Three weeks later we bury him. Only six months before I graduate from UCLA nursing school, I vow to never lose another patient. This begins a long cycle of my savior complex. It is seven years from Poppop’s death before I see him in my dreams. Seven tough years of transition, loss, growth. Graduation, first job as an RN, getting married, moving away from home to begin a new life, birthing my son prematurely, getting my masters degree, birthing my daughter. Lots of birth followed Poppop’s death. The cycle of birth and death well set now. My eating disorder has transformed from anorexia to bulimia. Only purging relieves me of the great pain of never being enough.

Spring of 1990. I am working as a family nurse practitioner at an urgent care. I pick up a chart and start to enter an exam room, but the doctor I’m working with takes the chart and hands me another. An HMO patient she doesn’t want to see. Compensation is poor and her hands are tied within managed care. I don’t want to be party to what I predict will become a managed care fiasco so I get involved with my professional nurse practitioner association and begin courting a private doctor. I spend six years under his employment making great money, increasing my skills and confidence while learning to balance motherhood, partnership, and career. Spiritually…a time of discovery… outside of the dogma I learned in the church. Still bulimia rules my days, sleep walking rules my nights, I can never do enough, be enough…

The death that preceded that birth cycle…our German Shepherd pup died suddenly in the fall of 1989. My husband was so broken hearted…Jarys consoled him on the back patio—put his little arm around his sobbing father’s shoulders—told his father that souls are like rental videos that must be returned to God….that night Poppop comes to me in a dream…the first time since he died.

September 5, 1996. I am trying to resuscitate my daughter’s puppy. Her screams fill my senses. Kyra dreamt its death. I console her with trepidation. My own dreams are so real, I act them out nearly every night. I am a sleepwalker. So thoroughly immersed in the obsessive compulsive nature of bulimia, I cannot do enough to keep from feeling so very deeply. I obsessively exercise as a competitive triathlete. My body fat is so low that I do not have periods. I am ready for change, tired of working as an employee in conventional medicine. So I create change…As a regional representative then state president of the California Coalition of Nurse Practitioners, I lead my colleagues to improve our professional status, like prescribing privileges and malpractice coverage for independent nurse practitioners. And in July of 1997, I birth my own private practice—Full Circle Family Health.

The cocoon for my greatest transformation, within Full Circle Family Health, I learn a great deal about holistic healing, the biochemistry of the neuro-immune-endocrine system, how to integrate alternative therapies with conventional medicine. I develop a holistic model of Intuitive Integrative Medicine, collect loads of empirical data, create a nutritional product—Genesis Gold—that would become the foundation of my healing practice. In fact Genesis Gold would provide my hypothalamus with the necessary nutrients to finally heal my obsessive bulimic state of mind and more so, discover the psycho-spiritual roots of this dis-ease.

July 2002. We move to the house in my dreams…a little yellow house with white shutters…with room for my family, my horses and my practice. Finally I bring Full Circle Family Health home and begin living my most authentic life. Healing energy emanates from every corner of the property. Our animals serve therapeutic roles. Even the herb garden, the fruit trees and the flowers play their part in healing me, my family, my patients and my staff. Finally I am living my dreams.

And oh, yes…since I first consumed the Sacred Seven amino acids…the formula that would become the secret sauce in Genesis Gold… my sleep walking ceased. I slept peacefully through the night, began having regular periods, before starting the menopausal shift 5 years after my younger sisters. My bulimia abated as my obsessive compulsive nature mellowed. More so, my soul growth has been profound…and unlike so many of the spiritual gurus I have treated over the years who suffered physically while seeking enlightenment, I have experienced optimal health physically, emotionally and mentally.

By the Spring Equinox 2011, I had completed seven – seven year cycles. Death filled the year before my 50th birthday—first Steve’s Gran then two days later a beloved patient, and then Hope, our beloved Great Dane died on September 5th—fourteen years after Kyra’s puppy. The last death was Bulimic Deb….

 

Excerpt from My LoveDance