Dare to Dream 100 Times

I feel all tingly as I start to write.  No.  I feel the top of my head start to tingle as I think about this project that was given to me last night: make a list of 100 of my dreams, write down what my soul fancies, as I have become too practical.  I need to dream more. 

 (1.) I’d like to write.

   I’ve enjoyed writing nearly as long as I can remember.  Enamored with language in high school and prolific in my prose,  I wrote to play with words, using alliteration, allegory, similes, all different styles and voices with which to play.  I wrote to express myself, not merely my outward self, the self that takes so much energy to pronounce and maintain, but my writings were cries from my soul: sincere and true and drastic and dramatic.  I wrote of what I fancied, what I feared.  I painted pictures with my words and drew you out as a playmate to come into my world and enter a new reality.

   I flaunted my differences, dressed up my foibles, faults and fascinations with words, and flirted with my shadowy side when I wrote in my 20’s.  In my 30's, as motherhood and then career became more prominent in my life, my writing took a turn.  I dipped my virtual pen again to write for our computer business.  I personalized newsletter articles to our client base, wrote text for brochures, websites, protocols, manuals, meeting minutes and anything else that needed ‘figurative flair’, or at least that needed to be recorded (and I added the ‘figurative flair’ on my own). 

    Now that I've reached my midpoint in life, I combine these skills into capturing the passion an individual or business has, and then relay their message in the vibrant art of the written word. 

Please visit my website www.AshevilleCreativeContent.com for business articles that I've written.  Feedback is appreciated! :)

 

Living with an Auto-Immune Disease

I couldn’t say that I was surprised when I learned the diagnosis: Crohn’s Disease.  I had been living with symptoms that just weren’t right for 20 years.  Of course I had been relaying my symptoms to my family doctor, and physician’s assistant, and then another family doctor, and another nurse, and my gynecologist, and her referred specialist.  Throughout my medical history, I had regular check-ups and blood work and was considered healthy by these standards.

But my body did not feel right.  And my mood did not feel right.

Aside from symptoms associated with irritable bowel syndrome, I was consistently wracked with emotional fraught.  My husband referred to me as ‘like a teenager’.  I felt passionate about things, for better or worse, and exuded all of this energy whenever I walked into a room.  This roller-coaster of drama in my close relationships was beginning to take their toll.  I felt shattered, fragile, un-centered and definitely not the person I wanted to be, and knew I really was.
A Physicians Assistant ordered some prescriptions for me to take: an anti-depressant and an anti-anxiety medicine.  That slowed me down; but the pattern had already been established within me after years of reacting the same way.  I had the conscious realization that there was still work to be done on myself, made all the more poignant with my husband’s frankness that something had to change.

More than unhappy with this predicament, the dark tendrils of stress twined throughout my daily thoughts, gave credence to my sense of self doubt and self worthlessness, and fed my hate of what is unjust, unfair and untoward in humanity.  I reveled in the sense of justice, and gleefully pointed out mistakes in numbers, mistakes in protocol, and mistakes in whatever concrete thing I could fix to prove how valuable I was.

Things were not any better emotionally or physically for me when my blood work results came back, this time with low iron and B12.

I went in for a scope of my digestive tract and they found the ulcers that had been leaking my precious blood and robbing me of my body’s usable resources.

My appetite was gone; more than that: my relationship with food had changed completely.  I felt nausea every morning and throughout the day- all waking hours.  I lost a considerable amount of weight in a short period of time.  I could not digest the food that I did eat very well and knew I was not getting the nutrients that I needed to sustain myself.  I began to drink Ensure and other easy-to-digest supplements to get my daily allotment of calories.  I made myself eat more vegetables.  I forced myself to try and eat bites of meat, chicken or fish at least 2 times a week.
More medicine was prescribed to me for these symptoms: an anti-acid to aid in nausea and an immune suppressant to help my body stop fighting itself.  That’s what it is, you know, any auto-immune disease.  It is your body attacking itself for no known medical reason.  And it’s on the rise.

“Don’t read too much about Crohn’s disease on the internet,” my gastroenterologist suggested.  “You’ll scare yourself silly.”

Great.  That’s not stressful at all to me, doc.

My husband now researches the internet, a natural talent of his, and finds out all kinds of alternative methods to helping me overcome these symptoms.  I’m taking different types of herbs, vitamin supplements, pureed glasses of cabbage 3x/day, and aloe juice.  I see an alternative healer, a belly specialist.  I give up dairy, wheat and sugar for 2 months and my stomach still hurts.
I’m less productive, less focused, tired, hurting and grumpy more than I should be with others.
Lightening my work-load, I ease up on my responsibilities and focus on one: Marketing.   I meet another alternative healer, this time an acupuncturist.  I was encouraged by my spouse to schedule an appointment.  Why not?  Nothing else was working.  Why not needles in my body?  I shrug and make an appointment.

Alison smiles at me when I step into the office.  She is tall and gracefully energetic, and her smile is open and genuine.  We talk about acupuncture and she starts to give me some insight into this ancient healing art.  Using illustrations and beautiful Chinese metaphors, Alison explains to me about how my body and mind and spirit are connected.  When some part of us is imbalanced, the other parts become affected as well.

I unload on her some of the things that are concerning me.  We discuss my physical symptoms as well as my emotional ones.  Now, I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with professional therapists different times in my life to try and get some perspective on things, but this was completely different.
Alison prayed as she worked.  I could hear her, humming softly as I lay down on the table comfortably.  Her focus was completely centered about me.  The breaths she took were full and deep, reminders for me to mimic.  She explained to me about what she was doing and why, and helped me to understand the connections my body innately has.  She taught me how to meditate.  She walked with me to dark places I’d kept well-hidden in the haunting shadows of memories, and together, we brought them to the light.

After working with her weekly for 6 months, I was able to stabilize my health.  I did not need to take my anti-acids, anti-anxiety or immune-suppressants any more.

This was my first experience with a true Healer.

I continue to see my regular doctors and specialists, but not nearly as often as I used to.  It’s down to appointments every 6 months, instead of every 6 weeks.  I tell my family doctor about my acupuncturist, and I give her about 5 business cards each time I see her, to remind her to tell her other patients about my experience.  I tried to give some business cards to my gastroenterologist, but I think he just puts them in the trash.

It is my humble and personal goal to educate everyone why being proactive is so much more efficient than being reactive.  Alternative medicine has been providing proactive support to us for all of humanity’s existence through a combination of spiritual, mental and physical awareness.  One of Alison’s favorite sayings is that the  mundane practitioner heals the body, the moderate practitioner heals the mental and emotional, and the supreme practitioner heals the spirit.

Western medical practice is truly awesome in reacting to physical emergencies.  I’m so glad we have the ability to safely birth breech babies with Cesarean sections, as a personal example.
Western medical practice and opinion is not so good at opening itself up to alternative methods of healing.  Science-based research is coming along as more funding can be acquired; however, most American funding sources go to researching pharmaceutical therapies, rather than the use of herbal medicines and alternative healing practices.   Though there are “quite a number of federal agencies in the United States (which) provide funding opportunities for companies in the herbal trade and for individuals and organizations that conduct herbal research,” other countries have adopted much more open approaches to teaching and learning about the medicinal uses of herbs.

“Countries all over the world, and especially the developing world, are taking a different approach to their herbal traditions than the American approach, which seems focused primarily on protecting the medical monopoly of doctors, drug companies and insurance companies.

In another example of the more enlightened approach being taken elsewhere, renowned herbal medicine specialist Dr Gunnaram Khonikar appealed to the Government of Assam “to include and introduce herbal medicines in the school syllabus so that students would be able to identify medicinal plants with their medicinal properties and cultivation as well as preservation.”

The healing properties of plants are not new, nor are eastern approaches to health; they are just forgotten and mostly untested by our current scientific measures.
What can be done about this?

1. Educate yourself- read information on the internet, research at the library for older pieces of information, and seek advice from your local health food store.
2. Talking with health-care practitioners of all types is an excellent exercise.  See if you can discover patterns in various types of regimes and advice.
3. Consider supplementing or replacing some of the over-the-counter medication that you normally would choose, for something natural and organic.  Vitamins are a great place to start.
4. Contact your local and state representatives to relay how important funding for research and development of alternative medical practices is to you, so that the efficacy of alternatives is proven and a variety of health options are recognized.

I choose to live in Asheville, NC because of the diversity in health care options- from Mission Hospital where I birthed my only child, to my acupuncturist Alison Downey who keeps me aligned in body, mind and spirit.  Thank God that in Asheville, we are richly blessed with healers.

What's in Your Backyard?

It’s the peak of summer: time for cold drinks, mosquitoes and mowing the lawn.  This summer, my daughter learned how to make fresh lemonade for us.  She begged me to buy a bag of lemons each time I went to the grocer and we were then gifted with tart drinks of liquid sunlight made with the pure love of little girl hands.  Asheville has really been blessed with lovely rain showers, and because of our mild last winter, the mosquitoes were thicker than normal.  This gentle weather pattern has also made quite a lovely haven for a wide variety of plant-life here.  In the mountains, there are a multitude of independent eco-systems.  And no wonder- our mountains are 400 million years old.  The land here has had time to develop an intricate system of flora.  The myriad of “vegetation patterns in this region consist of species responding individually to a complex of temperature and moisture gradients associated primarily with elevation and landform,” http://www.srs.fs.usda.gov/pubs/ja/ja_mcnab011.pdf .

I recently had the pleasure of taking a tour of my own yard with Gwen Fordham, the WizeWoman.  Gwen enthusiastically enjoyed my lengthy, un-mowed yard.  We forged through the ‘weeds’ and I was caught up in Gwen’s delight, as she mentioned to me that my yard was full of healing herbs.  She pointed out the broad-leaved plantain that I had growing in a thick sunny patch in back.

 Along the side of my house was another variety of this beauty; The English Plantain was flourishing with tall spiked flowers in the sunny South section of my yard. 

I remember hearing Gwen talk about Red Clover tea, and to my delight, the large purple blossoms were ready for harvest when Gwen and I walked the yard.  

Alongside and intertwined with the clover grew yarrow and spearmint.

Coneflowers (Echinacea) and Bee Balm (Bergamot) raised their lovely flower heads to the sun in the brightest Easterly section of the backyard.

And one of my all-time favorite plants in the yard: Lavender.   My 7 year old lavender is always buzzing with busy pollinators.  

 Comfrey, given to me by a neighbor, has grown like it's found it's true home.

The medicine in these plants has been used by Native American Indians for centuries.  At times, I allow myself to dream that my yard was once a personal pharmacy, and that the land here in Dry Ridge was used for healing.

Diversity is a Choice

Growing up in the mid-west, I was accustomed to fields of corn and soybeans, farm fresh cider pressed at the apple orchards, and the most delicious ice cream churned from local dairy cows’ milk. I saw the progress of my community develop into planned neighborhoods, chains at the strip mall and folks reveling in this good fortune: more choices on how to spend their hard earned dollars.

At 18, I left my hometown and went to college in the Appalachian Mountains. What a feast for the eyes! After a childhood of flat farmland, here were beautiful, motherly mountains- lush, green, and shapely curving around me with life-affirming vitality. The sky, so clear and vibrant blue, emblazoned a permanent twinkle in my eye, as it seemed to have done with the other people who lived here, too. People, “strangers,” would share that glimmer with me when they passed, nodding or smiling their acknowledgement of me. It did not matter if I were dressed in jean shorts or a linen suit; the exchange was a variation of the same: a smile, a “hello, how’re you?” and that twinkle of light we see in each others’ eyes.

At that time, Asheville was less populated and less popular as it is today. A few freaks on the streets wondered the sidewalks of Lexington Ave, sliding into the alley of Vincent’s Ear, their cigarettes glowing like fireflies in dark corners. The mountains and culture here called to other ‘different’ people. I met those whom were spiritually awakened, sexually open-minded, naturally conservative and artistically gifted. The vibe of the city was calling people to linger a little longer as they passed through on their way to Florida, or New Jersey, or California. Those who liked what they experienced while visiting here, found a way to stay.

As Asheville continued to plant and nourish the seeds of diversity, downtown vacancies were less common. People came here with their dreams, were fueled by their wonder, and dedicated themselves to living here. Eclectic shops and eateries, as varied as the people who came here, started to grow. The city found new resources to enable restoration of the rich assortment of architectural beauty downtown.

Our community thrives because we balance our myriad gifts, talents and experiences with the solid union of our common goals. This strength continues to beckon others who share the same dream of being peacefully, consciously diverse.