I have, indeed, cured myself of a case of gluten intolerance. I’m far enough out now to be able to say that it’s gone. Through meditation, Reiki (self), visualization and prayer I have created a healthier gut biome and I can eat all the things that made me sick for a time: pasta, bread, pie. Pie! Blueberry this morning for breakfast.


There is no denying that we are not only entirely interconnected within our own personal biosphere: heart, head, brain, gut, toenails, dreams, fears, traumas, lungs, hands, organs, but that we are connected to everyone and everything around us. Where there is dis-ease in our lives, disharmony in our world, there will be sickness. And though the very well-trained traditional medical community has good information that can help us with some conditions, there are myriad ways to approach and achieve wellness. I have learned first-hand just how powerfully my thoughts and emotions affect my biology. There are many, many lessons to be gleaned when we are out of harmony, internally and externally.

Don’t get me wrong, I love me some snack foods; I am addicted to sugar, I probably don’t get enough exercise—I am no guru. But on this path I have come to understand that if we have immense power to cause harm and to do ill, (to ourselves and others) then we have immense power to heal and to correct. With practice, intention, some shifting away from old habits, attempts to integrate new and the ingesting of a lot of humble pie, we have the ability to pave our own road to wellville.


My parents are in the early stages of letting go of their southern Vermont life. They may make a full-circle move back to Saratoga, where we all grew up. This is no easy feat, as any of you who have been through this process know. Mom and Dad built their house together twenty-something years ago. Dad did the carpentry work, Mom made sandwiches, swept up, got the tools, tended to things. Their very hearts are in that space— a place that feels far more like home than any of the houses we spent our growing up years in. Every one of us has watched Mom stand at the front door, waving as we drove off to somewhere else. Thanksgivings, Christmases, sledding, bonfires, wood stacking, long walks on the dirt road. All of us have brought our babies there, now our teens and young adults. I have returned there many times to find solace in hard days. It will be hard for all of us to let it go, but, as the song says … comes a time.


It’s a simple, sturdy house that sits on some of the most gorgeous land you will ever see. If you know someone with a good heart who is looking for a home on a quiet dirt road, marinated in love on about five acres with a view that will teach you reverence and a stream nearby that sings to you at night, in the beautiful wilds of southern Vermont, let me know.