journey to raw health

Today, I have few demons. I am filled with gratitude every morning when I wake up and I count my blessings before falling asleep each night. As the days pass, I will postdate the rest of my journey to the present, but, I feel I must also speak of  today. My journaling of my struggles is a way of putting them to rest, so to speak. My past was a huge part of my life. But, I am not that self-destructive person anymore. It has been difficult to recall and write of some of the behaviors. For many years, I was filled with shame about how I lived. It has been emotionally draining to remember some of my stories. The truth is that all those parts of me have made me who I am today. I feel more whole now than I ever have.

I want whoever reads this to know that there is hope. If you have a thread of hope, hold on to it. And ask for help. It is there. The Light is waiting for you, as it waited for me. The more we focus on the Light, the quicker the Darkness will fade. It will lose strength and the Light will win. We have to want it, we have to dream, be grateful for the baby steps of progress and move forward. For too many years I hung on to the past. It gets heavy and will suck you back in if you let it. Reach out and give back. Let go of the fear and embrace the Love.

I decided to start this blog to get all of this stuff out of my head. I want room for the Joy to take up all the space that I filled with sorrow for so many years. I am a living testamony to the Law of Attraction. My goal today is to attract the Light, to see the good, to be the Light, to share the Light. I want the Light to grow and the Darkness to fade for all of humanity. That might be a lofty goal, but, it is the best one I can think of to have today!

Tags: gratitude, Hope, Love, life experience by Deborah
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It is another Full Moon. On every full moon, I tend to give myself some space. I now know that I am sensitive to the phases of the moon, and am subject to slipping towards the darkness if I am not careful. Something is different this month, I have been focused on where I am going instead of where I have been. Since the event with Shelley Yates and the firing of the grid, it seems I have been on a steady higher vibration.

For the past several years I have been fascinated with energy healing. Maybe because I have known that I am aware of energy, and I know I feel better when I stay connected to the higher energy of Love rather than looking at the darkness.

I know the darkness is there. People seem to carry the lower vibrations more easily because there are so many folks that talk about what is wrong, what they do not have, rather than being grateful for what they have and what is right in the world. But, since the 11th of July, I have been full of hope for what the future holds. I am learning to stick up for myself, setting boundaries, letting go of those that bring me down. It is so much easier to focus on the good now, and be grateful.

I am starting a new job. I was just hired to work with the mentally challenged. Considering that I have felt that way for many years, I believe it will be a very rewarding way to spend my time. Helping others. I am ready to not have crisis in my life. If it comes up, I feel certain that I will be able to handle it. Life is good. I have been blessed to have survived my life so far.

I spent the afternoon with my grandson. We drove out to West Sunbury and picked blueberries. They are a very high vibration food. I love the taste. Lucas, the grandson, finds frozen blueberries to be a lovely snack. We had fun picking together. He kept saying, “Holy moley, macaroni!” every time he would find a cluster of big ones. Perhaps he ate more than he put in the bucket, perhaps it was the hot afternoon sun beating down on us, but, when we got back into the car, he told me he was ready to go back to Grandma’s house. He wanted to have some quiet time. Two miles down the road he was sleeping.

I sometimes envy his innocence, his awe with all he so anxiously learns. He is a thinker. A wise soul has come to live in my immediate family. I am so blessed that he is here, that he likes to come to grandma’s house. He loves whatever food I fix him. Always veggies, fruit, nuts & seeds. I enjoy the simple things now. And I love the Peace in my life.

I must be growing…

Tags: children, Love by Deborah
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I believe that we are being presented with  one of the most important of events this coming Tuesday, July 17th. On that morning, at 7:11 AM EST, I will be sitting in meditation directing the Love that I feel when I am doing what I love while on the planet, to the planet. Thanking her for providing me the opportunities to share what I came to share and rejoicing that fellow Lightworkers are doing the same. My heart tells me that Shelley Yates has a sincere message for all that truly want World Peace. Will you be joining? If you have not heard yet, go to www.firethegrid.org and consume the entire site. Then watch her videos on www.youtube.com. Just search for Shelley, open your heart, and listen Make a committment to be part of the change we all say we want.

Tags: Love, Peace by Deborah
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When I found myself pregnant again, and single, I decided I wanted a home birth. My dear friend, Lydia, who had given me my first job in Cocoa Beach with her lawn company, was a midwife. She kindly agreed to attend my birth, and everything was progressing just fine, until she decided to move to Tallahassee several months before my due date.

I wondered how that was going to work out. Tallahassee is about 5 hours from Cocoa Beach. After talking to Lydia, she suggested I bring my other daughter and come to her house several weeks before my due date and have the baby at her house. After agreeing, I set out to sell my sprout business. I knew that I would need time to recuperate after the birth, and knew that I could not keep the sprouting schedule. I found a woman with a husband and children that was interested. They bought it, we moved the greenhouse over to her backyard and for the next month, I went to her place to help with the harvest. Then she was on her own.

I next had to focus on getting us ready to go to Lydia’s for the birth. We left the beginning of December. The baby was due on the 15th. Florida is usually rather warm all year long, but, Tallahassee was cold. Their wood frame house was drafty and by the 11th, I was fearful that I would not be able to give birth in a house that only had heat in the living room and Lydia & her husband’s bedroom. That day I told Lydia of my fears and she suggested that I take a nap in her room and decide when I woke up. When I woke up I told her, yes, I will have the baby in her bed.

Another girlfriend, Karen, wanted to come up for the birth. She suggested I take some Castor oil to get the contractions going. Even though the baby was not due for several days, I followed her suggestion. Nothing seemed to be happening except cramps similar to when I was having my period. My legs hurt down to my knees, but, no contractions. So, Lydia and I had a couple of shots of whiskey. Still no contractions. Karen finally got there from the beach. It was around 3 in the morning, Lydia decided to go to bed, so I went too. No sooner did I lay down and the contractions started one after the other. I woke Lydia to check me and see how the baby was doing. I was totally dilated. The baby was coming.

We moved me into the bedroom, it seemed everyone in the house felt the energy of a baby on the way. There were 4 other children besides my daughter, Sarah. They all woke up and were out in the living room playing. When the baby was coming, Lydia called Sarah in to the room to see her sibling born. The sun was just coming up. Several pushes later, out came Julia Rose (Julia after my dad’s mom, and Rose because she was so pink. Also, because my neighbor lady when I was little was named Rose. I loved Rose. She use to let me iron on the backporch with her while all the other kids were playing upstairs. Her children had tons of toys, but, my favorite thing was ironing. The iron would get warm, it was just my size. And Rose was so nice, I could iron all the teatowels.)

Julia didn’t make a sound. She just looked up at me. We wrapped her in a baby blanket and hung it from a large scale. She weighed just shy of 8 pounds because of the blanket. Sarah climbed into bed beside her new little sister and mom, and we all took a nap.

We stayed until Julia was 5 days old. I packed them both in the car and we headed south to Cocoa Beach. Just before we lost radio reception, we heard a song dedicated to the new baby, “Julia” by John Lennon.  Several miles later, the car broke down. There were no cell phones in 1981, and there I was, on the side of the road with a 5 1/2 yr old and a newborn. I only had enough money for gas. What was I going to do?

Out of nowhere, a gentleman in a business suit, stopped. After seeing our dilemma, he offered to take us to the next town and have a tow truck pick up the car. I felt that he was safe, accepted the ride and away we went. When we got to the gas station, the owner of the station said he would take me to his daughter’s house to wait while he got the car and fixed it. His daughter had a new baby, too, so we had a lovely visit.

Hours passed and he finally came back for us. Then he gave me a wonderful gift. The gentleman that had stopped for us on the side of the road had paid for the repairs to the car and filled the tank. He told the gas station owner that it was a Christmas gift for me and my children. I was so grateful. I truly felt that angels had helped me that day. We drove the rest of the way home with no other problems.

Tags: birth, children, life experience by Deborah
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As I mentioned yesterday, I subscribed to Mother Earth News magazine, and usually read it cover to cover. The beginnings of my life as the sprout lady began after I read an article from the Nov./Dec. 1978 issue. The front cover had a star with a caption inside which read “Earn $1,000 a month Growing Sprouts”. I can not tell you how many times I read that article, but, I can tell you that I said to myself,”Someday I am going to do that!” I still have the magazine, and I began growing sprouts in my tiny kitchen.

In another issue of the same magazine, I saw an ad for a live-in housekeeper, girl Friday position in Florida. I researched the address, found out the chiropractors name, and submitted a photo of my daughter and myself with a brief letter of my interest in health and desire to some day be a massage therapist. I sent it special delivery. The chiropractor called me several days later and I ended up flying down for an interview. I left Sarah with my folks and took a flight, staying in Bradenton for several days. Although I decided to not take the position, I took the opportunity to hop over to Cocoa Beach and visit friends. Someone there offered to let me stay with them until I could get settled, should I decide to return to the sunny south with Sarah in tow. I accepted the offer.

I packed our belongings and shipped them UPS, purchased a futon over the phone and had it delivered to FL and then bought a one way ticket. Sarah and I moved to Cocoa Beach right before her third birthday. It was less than a month from the time I had committed to return to my second home.

Within weeks of my arrival, I had connected with some of the people at the local co-op, but I was having trouble finding a place for us to live. I got a job with a dear friend, Lydia, who had a lawn maintence business. And then one day at the co-op, I met a guy who was looking for someone to take over his lease. He wanted to go out west and study with Dr. Christopher Hill. Needing a place to live, I bicycled down to Woodland Ave. to check out his one bedroom duplex, 3 blocks from the ocean. It was the perfect place for Sarah and I, so, I told Rainbow Jim that I would take over the lease. Then he said the most beautiful thing to me. “Oh, by the way, I am growing the sprouts for the co-op, if you are interested, you can take over growing them.” Another example of the Law of Attraction happening in my life!

I took to sprouting like a duck to water! I named the business LIVING GREENS …our business is growing. Although the business started with 3 women, it eventually became all mine, and I loved growing my business. I grew sprouts, buckwheat lettuce and sunflower greens and lots of wheatgrass. I also made tabbouleh, raw hummus & raw sauerkraut. At first I delivered only to the Cocoa Beach/Cape Canaveral area. Then I got a car and expanded the route to include Melbourne Beach, Melbourne and Cocoa.

It seemed that everyone loved the sprouts. I could not grow enough to meet the demand and I continually shorted the wholesale produce account that I had in order to fill the stores & restaurants that went direct with me. I loved being the Sprout Lady, but, my secret darkness kept coming back. I had an intense fear of success. Making mistakes came easily to me, and when things were going well, I had the uncanny ability to self sabotage. I certainly knew how to do things the hard way.

Tags: sprouting, Law of Attraction, living foods, Hope, health, addiction, life experience by Deborah
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Finding myself once again back home, I returned to work for my dad briefly. Because I had lived on my own, been married, then divorced, I could not live with them again. I rented a room in a friend’s house. It was near a bridge which was used only by trains. I used the sound of the train as an alarm to wake me up. I always slept deeply there because I was frequenting the bars often. I referred to myself as a troll. I only stayed with him for several months and then got a job as a waitress in a new restaurant outside of town. I rented a house with a girlfriend who also worked at the restaurant. It was strange to live in the same town as my parents and not live with them. Cindy and I had great fun in that house and I began dating a guy from high school.

I got pregnant and the father wanted to marry me. I said no. I somehow knew that the marriage would not last and felt that I could care for my child even if the relationship did not. He made every effort to make it work, purchasing a home for us away from the city. We seemed to have some things in common; he had allergies, so, no dairy was in the house, he only ate fish as I did too. But, his main income was from drugs. Every day he would roll up some doobies for me and off he would go, I stayed home growing my child and being creative, doing ceramics, sewing all the baby clothes since I wanted to only use cotton. But, I was lonely, I was left there alone a lot. It was too far out for friends to visit and I wanted things to be different now that I was going to have a child.

My mom took me to her obstetrician, he had delivered me. He honored my wanting to have natural childbirth, he just wanted me in the hospital. I was due sometime in September. The night before my daughter arrived, I started to bleed. The father brought me into town early and we stayed at my folks until my mom said I needed to go to the hospital to be observed. It was a long labor. Hal was not much help, sleeping while I struggled to keep it together. The nurses thought I would deliver before the morning shift change, but, it came and went. I asked for something to help me relax and the nurse got me calmed down and focused on the task at hand. Early afternoon of September 9, 1976, my beautiful Sarah was born. I loved her the moment I saw her.

We went back to our home in that small town and she & I bonded. It seemed Hal was gone even more than before and I wanted to be around people. I was not allowed to have even my cat in the house because Hal thought Slick might hurt Sarah. By the time she was 6 months old, I was living in a tiny apartment above my parents store. We hardly saw Hal. I focused on loving and raising my daughter.

Because I was now a vegetarian, my family teased me. They knew that it would upset me, they would tease me more. In jest, when I let them babysit, they put Sarah in her highchair and took a photo of a steak and a can of beer on the tray., telling me this is what they gave her to eat. I never took teasing well. I wanted to run away from them and my hometown where I was different because I no longer wanted to eat meat & potatoes. Fortunately, Sarah was allergic to eggs and dairy, so they tolerated our many meals of rice and steamed veggies. Our favorite walk was to the City Market two blocks up the street where we would pick out fresh fruit and vegetables for the day.

I continued to pursue crafty things, learning macrame and basket weaving. I had lots of plants in the apartment because we had no yard for my little peanut to play. I painted her tiny room with a blue sky and grass, flowers and a beehive with bees buzzing all around. I was starting to read about a healthy lifestyle and thought about becoming a massage therapist. I subscribed to Mother Earth News magazine. Everything in it interested me, especially the Situations and Positions in the back. I wanted to escape.

I started running in the early morning before Sarah would wake up & my mom and I got one of the first rebounders on the market. I went to my 10 year high school reunion.

 The darkness would visit me. I felt stuck in a time warp. The only thing I seemed to have in common with the people I knew that were my age was alcohol and drugs. They came back with a vengence. I had absolutely NO idea that I had a choice on whether or not to do them. So, I did.

Tags: children, addiction, Love, life experience by Deborah
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My first year at Edinboro State College was a disaster! My grades were horrible. I hardly ever attended classes, spending most of my time either in the Student Union playing double pinochle or at the Fraternity houses drinking. Needless to say, my memory of that year is slim. My first semester in the dorm close to campus was filled with letters home to the folks declaring my love for a new boyfriend (they changed with the wind) and I would sneak out a lot to spend time Lakeside. I attended summer school and returned for fall semester to live in a new dorm that was across the great divide. I met a girl, Jackie, there. She and I shared the same birthday, and she was friends with the floor resident, Suki. I felt they were kindred spirits. I believe it was through them that I happened into a party one night and met Dottie and a whole new set of friends. Time passed and then I got the news that I would not be advancing to sophomore.  I sought counseling from school and after hearing of my experiences, the counselor recommended I get some professional help. College life ended because I had gotten a student loan and I could not get another since my grades were so bad. When I got home, I told my dad that I needed some help. That didn’t go over so good. In my family the solution to anything seemed to be ‘Don’t talk about. Pretend it didn’t happen.’ So, I never got any counseling until almost 20 years later.

Living back home, I worked for my dad in his store. I purchased my first car, a white ‘63 Rambler stationwagon for $125. tax, tag and title. The car represented freedom and most every weekend I would head back to Edinboro to party with my new friends. Actually, I was referred to as the ‘visiting cousin’ of the group. I was introduced to pot and it instantly spelled “relief” to all the painful life experiences I carried around. My drinking tapered off because I could laugh again with marijuana, and the alcohol left me with no memory. So, I looked at pot as a good thing. I experimented with psychedelics often and went to another level of consciousness. A friend gave me a “raggedy Andy” doll that he purchased from a thrift shop. I made some bellbottom pants and a leather fringed vest for Andrew and he was my constant companion, sitting beside me as I travelled back and forth on the weekends. 

That year ended with Dottie and her friends going to Ocean City, MD for the summer of 1970. Of course, I went along. My having a car was a great thing. No one else did, so, that summer at the beach was a magical time for me. It was where I met my first husband, Chip. When summer ended, I moved to Maryland outside of D.C. Chip was completing his college and I worked at various jobs. Getting stoned was a daily part of my life and also downers moved in. We would take drugs, drink cheap wine and play Chess in the evenings. This continued until I moved back to Butler briefly. This move caused a decision to be made between Chip and I. We decided to marry, so, I moved back to Maryland after the wedding. We stayed there until he graduated then we headed south to my favorite playground, Cocoa Beach, Florida.

I always seemed to think that things would be better when I moved. Little did I know that I went with me wherever I went and it never took long to find someone that had drugs. Chip and I eventually separated. I hitch hiked across the country with a girlfriend, returned to Florida & started living with a man who 9 years later would become the father of my third child. We split up, I was altering my reality on a daily basis. So, I moved back to Butler to receive my final divorce papers. 

As I sit and write about this timeline, I think, what a drama queen I was! I had no idea how to live a simple life with direction. I only knew self destruction, and I did it well. I seemed obsessed with all the bad things that had happened to me. Now I know that continuing to focus on the tragedies only brought more of the same. I wanted to end the insanity but I had no clue how. It sounds strange, but, while in the drinking and drugging phase of my life, I had totally lost the ability of CHOICE. When I did eventually go in to a treatment facility, the word CHOICE saved my life.

Tags: choice, life lessons, addiction, Love, life experience by Deborah
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After the car accident I did my best to self destruct. Alcohol was my friend, it made me forget. So much so that I often went into blackouts and had no recollection of the events during my drinking. In hindsight, I truly was a lost soul. There was no forgiveness to be found other than getting drunk, and I forgot any moral upbringing that had been instilled. So called friends offered comfort. That comfort was alcohol and sex. I so desperately wanted love but had absolutely none for myself. It was no surprise when I found myself pregnant at 17. Because it was in the 60’s, and there was a lot of shame around illegitimate pregnancy, my folks whisked me off to live with my Aunt Grace for several months until I could go into the Florence Crittenton Home for unwed mothers in Shadyside.

While staying at my aunt’s, I would walk over to the home of her daughter, Eileen, during the day and visit. She was a young mother herself and I cherish the memories of the times I stayed with Grace and the many conversations I had with Eileen during my wait to go in to the home. I really did NOT want to give up my child, but, in those days, you did not keep your child if you were not married and my parents were adamant that they had raised 6 of their own and were not going to help me raise mine. I knew I was not capable of caring for a child by myself; the father was certainly not going to be involved, so, I did the next best thing, the only thing I could, and went along with my parents wishes to give the child up.

I entered the home at about 6 months. The other girls were great. We all made the best of our situation, followed the rules. Cleaning, cooking, laundry, etc. took up much of our time. Free time was spent learning to knit & crochet (why we made booties & hats I have no idea). I made myself a sweater. We could go out once a day with another girl, taking a walk down to Walnut Street. We most often went to a small shop for a soft drink, sit and smoke cigarettes like chimneys. It is comical when I think of it now, I am sure everyone knew we were the “girls from the home”. Either both my parents or just my mom would come down & take me out for a ride. It was never an easy visit. None of my younger siblings knew where I was, my older sister was in college. I know now that my folks loved me and made the decision because they thought it was best for me. At the time, I had no clue that my behavior was a reflection on them. The shame kept the secret.

As each girl got closer to her due date, and then took the walk across the street to Shadyside hospital, we would move from a room with many to a room with less, until we were the ones taking the walk. After each would deliver, we were allowed to go over to visit them in the hospital, always 2 by 2, and then they would come back to the home with the baby to spend a full day caring for the child until the adoptive parents showed up to take them away. One girl was allowed no visitors in the hospital and she never came back. She had changed her mind and had decided to keep her child. There was no way they would let us others speak with her then. We might change our mind too!

My day came and my son was born on July 18, 1968. I named him James Michael. My parents came to visit and I got hell. Mom walked in and caught me smoking. I told her to leave me alone, I had just given birth & if I wanted to smoke a cigarette I was going to! My dad asked me why I thought it necessary to name my son. I knew that his name would not stay that, but, I cared for him for 5 days, loved him the best I knew how, and there was no way I was going to see “Baby Boy” on that card at the end of his bassinet. His new parents came to get him. The nurse brought his going home clothes upstairs. I bathed him, dressed him & kissed him goodbye. A part of my heart went home with him. I returned to my hometown with instructions to “forget about it”, not to talk about it with my siblings since my 3 younger ones had not been told the truth of where I was those many months I was gone.

I applied for college. I had been tutored in the home while I was pregnant, so, I graduated high school. I left for college in January of ‘69, and picked up drinking where I had left off.

Tags: adoption, life experience by Deborah
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I can not resist the opportunity to express how ironic the celebration of this day is in our fine United States of America! Today, it is politically incorrect to talk politics. In fact, discussion of most any topic is a challenge. Most folks hold to an ideology that they have no idea how they adopted. I believe that many have forgotten the ability to think for themselves. They have long ago been sucked in to the media ‘truth’ and actually believe what they are told, never questioning. Perhaps the crossbreeding of man with cow has been successful, at least in this country, and the masses have become as docile as those poor animals that live in confinement all of their lives. They drink in the complacency of fluoride and continue to trust that our government is taking care of us. I would venture to guess that they are not even using the 10% of the brain that is claimed that we use!

I believe that the Light is growing & Love will win over Ego.  Onward Peacemakers!

Tags: Peace by Deborah
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I was only 15, a sophomore in high school, dating a senior who had a brand new 1966 GTO. It was April 1st, Friday night. I was working until 9 PM and told my dad that I was going over to where my girlfriend was babysitting afterwards. But, as soon as I left work, I rounded the corner and got into David’s car. It was drizzling outside and as we headed up Main St. hill a car pulled along side of us. He knew them, I felt the car accelerate. The other car pulled ahead of us and cut us off. The slick road and quick movement created the aweful hydroplaning. Moving in a circular motion, I thought we were heading for the water tower across the street. We ended up on the right side, wrapped around a tree, smack in the middle of the driver’s side. I was thrown into the back seat while he was trapped in the bucket seat, crushed between the door & the console.

I don’t remember talking to him, telling him everything would be okay. All I remember was the sound of buzzing as if we were surrounded by bees. I have no memory of the ambulance ride to the hospital. I woke up in the emergency room, my parents telling me I should not have lied to them. This would not have happened if I had done what I said I was going to do. Already I was accepting the blame.

For three days I asked to see him. When was I going to be able to go to his room and see him? Don’t come back unless you are going to take me to wherever he was. Then the nurse came in and gave me a shot. My dad handed me the newspaper, it was on the front page. He was dead. I was in the hospital. He was dead…we were not going to the prom. They had the viewing and his funeral. I was still in the hospital and could not attend. They didn’t want me to go to the cemetary, or to visit his family. I did. I needed to give his class ring to his mom. I needed to grieve, but, there seemed nowhere safe to do that. No one in my family would speak about it with me. I missed him. I hated that I was alive and he was dead. I hated that they spoke about it at school, not to me. They used it as an example of reaction time, some said that he deserved to die because we were going fast. I hated him for dying, me for not dying. People went on with their lives. They said that is what I should do.

Time dragged on. I went to school, but, was not there. The grief stayed with me for a long time. I punished myself for the next 20 years. That was the beginning of my drinking.

Tags: death, Love, life experience by Deborah
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