Grandma’s Bread

My earliest childhood memories are full of my Grandmother, who always smelled of fresh bread combined with the scent of earth dirt. She’d always be planting seeds or putting new plants in the garden area or transplanting an herb that had strayed too far away from her watchful eye. Her nurturing heart helped her garden grow. She taught me many things about herbs, gardening, flowers, and natural folk healing.  Each of her “earth lessons” was beautifully intertwined with her constant contagious intoxicating love of the outdoors.

She loved me without limits. The stories she told me, from her simple perspective, were filled with her intimate secrets about life and living. Through her simplistic compassionate soul, she transmitted her love deep into my heart. She gifted me all of her knowledge of plants and all the other things in Mother Nature.  Much of it came from the ancient intuitive “knowings” she carried within her soul, seemingly from beyond the limits of time itself.

One of Grandma’s gifts was a strong dislike of judgments of all kinds. They still drive me crazy because it builds barriers between people rather than respect and community. Because of my Grandma Savage, I have enough love in my heart to heal the universe. I’m trying to do just that – one person at a time.

To this day, I feel more comfortable in nature than in a house.  I love to learn, write, ponder and share things I’ve learned from both the horror and beauty that has sculpted my life and the entire world wrapped around me.  Look around – don’t you see that if we were combined as one people, we would all be amazing “natural” human-beings full of talents and dreams?  It’s all out there.

Life is what we choose to make of it. But, just like baking bread, we sometimes need to knock the air out of the dough so it can rise.

Dr. Deb

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