How I arrived at the world of Aromatherapy.
As stated on other pages, with links to the story as well, I died when I was 17 years old. I walked with a being I know of as Jesus the Christ after being submerged inside of the Love and Light of God. I now use either Muscle Ease or Arthritis & Fibromyalgia Cream as my body lotion daily and always have Wisewoman just in case my sciatica acts up, but it rarely does anymore, I have been pain free thanks to the amazing gifts aromatherapy has blessed my life with.
But, to go back to that time and what happend:
I was very, very sick. My appendix ruptured and my skin was green, save for the swollen red/purpled areas around my joints, elbows, knees, etc.
The whites of my eyes were greenish-yellow too.
The poison from the diseased appendix that had burst was in my system for 2 weeks, or so they seemed to estimate. I was not supposed to live through such a health crisis, but much to the doctors and everyone else’s surprise (shock really) I did.
They cut me wide open, from stem to sternum (about a 12” incision in my stomach) and then they had to reopen the sutures to use a baster trying to remove the bile that kept filling up.
I spent the better part of a month in that hospital.
Surviving, leaving and healing were all quite enough to accomplish at the time, so I was not aware that the muscles had not been properly sewn back together running up that scar.
It was not until 2 years later that I fell over from the claw that was grabbing the lower part of my spine and sending shock waves up and down the spine.
Normally, I had grown accustomed to simply working past it all; accommodating whatever pain I was having by positioning myself properly. I managed to jog and exercise too; I was not going to give in or complain, lucky to be alive.
After all, that was partially how I became so ill in the first place, only I had not put the pieces of the puzzle together yet to realize the correlation. In fact, the best that I can say is that it has been as though a seed was planted inside of me during that death experience, or at the very least, an encoding. As time has transpired, an unraveling or blooming has taken place, and one of the most amazing aspects, is just how encoded the rest of life is to meet me at every step, to properly unfold and bloom. “To all things there is a season.”
I went to the doctor, whereupon he looked at my stomach and gasped: “Who did this to you?”
He said he would have to open me back up, but he could only do one half at a time. We would start with the part that seemed to be giving me the most problem.
So, back into the hospital I went for another major surgery.
He cut open the bottom 2/3 and reattached muscles by overlapping them.
Healing through that was quite another new adventure. It used to be very hard for me to sit for very long, I had to be accomplishing something and it was usually physical.
I am not even sure I allowed a proper amount of time for the whole healing process before I went back to my very active life-style.
I was prescribed pain-relievers following that operation and on and off throughout the years for the pain, that became better and worse depending. During menses, it would become almost excruciating and I would often become bed-ridden for at least the first day, before I forced myself off to work and school, based on whatever amount of extra-strength Tylenol was needed. Sometimes, I would resort to a Percocet or Darvocet, depending on what I had been prescribed, but would try not to take either, thinking the Tylenol was the most innocuous of the options, not realizing that they would have side-effects, especially on my stomach and digestive system too.
I always prayed, and around 1985 I believe it was, I came across what I would refer to as my guru, Rajendra Khanna. I was taking a day off (something that I didn’t do very often back then) and spending the day downtown with a friend, Anita.
We decided to go downtown for lunch and went to the Old Arcade, which in and of itself is a trip anyone in the area should make. After a delectable lunch, we were walking around the arcade and I mentioned that we should check out the higher levels, since I never had. Anita responded that she hadn’t either.
We climbed the old warn marble stairs, our feet slipping and echoing into the cavernous space as we made our way up to the third floor. Underneath each step one can feel the history of many steps on the smoothed surface and you cannot help but make a mental note of those that came so many times before us.
As we walked past the glass windows, some empty some with gold stenciled names of the professional that still made this space their office; we came upon a rather unique set of panes, that framed a colourful space with statues whose shine sometimes found their way past the thin layer of dust and racks of brightly coloured sarongs, scarf’s and cloths.
On the left side of the door, were several signs and posters, one of which caught my interest of a palm turned up exposing the lines and declaring ‘Palmistry Read’ for $30.00. I looked at Anita and laughed and suggested we should go for fun and have our palms read. She said no, she wasn’t paying $30 to have her palm read, but I sweetened the deal by adding: “What if he will do it for $30 for both of us?” Anita responded with a nod, a laugh and a yes. So we opened the door and bells tinkled as we were walking up to the glass counter. Up walked a man who was struggling with his steps, small in stature, very neat thin mustache matching his grey hair, he met us both and asked how he could be of service. I laughed a bit and sheepishly said that we wondered if it would be possible if we could both get a reading for $30.00 even if it was shorter in time duration.
This man who I would come to know as ‘Raj’ replied thusly: “Oh sure, you can pay whatever you want”. This struck me a bit odd, but sweet. How anyone couldn’t feel his sweetness; at least I couldn’t believe anyone wouldn’t feel this gentle beings graceful energy. So, he gestured for us to come back into a private room in the rear of the shop called “Rani’s Gift’s”.
We sat down on a red silk cloth that was on the floor, where Raj told us to sit. We were still like school girls laughing, but I was intrigued. I felt like a child looking around at all the pictures and diagrams, along with all the other unusual items one could see in that small room and through the small doorway back into the shop.
One at a time, Raj held our hands, turning them and squeezing at times under a magnifying glass and an overhead light. His insights were more than accurate and I couldn’t get enough of this man, Raj.
One of the words I saw over and over was ‘meditation’, both on posters, and books.
I asked him if he could teach us how to meditate, to which of course, the reply was ‘of course, you just have to be interested. That would require a mere $5 and I told Anita if she didn’t want to pay it, I would pay for her.
With legs crossed and our palms outstretched and facing up, we began a series of breaths with Raj’s tutelage. I immediately felt something happening in my head and heart as Raj fanned us with his palms. Anita told me afterwards she didn’t feel anything, but I sure did, it became a long relationship with the man I would come to know was born in India, had authored more than a dozen books and had taught many people in the area to meditate, and who would make me a member of the ‘Secret Consciousness Society’.
I faithfully prayed and meditated every day, I ran an average of 5 miles and 15-20 on the weekend along with my exercise routine. I became a vegetarian for the most part, save for still drinking buckets of coffee each day, I was doing pretty good.
But all of it, was mostly to ‘stay in shape’ physically (externally) and spiritually. What I wasn’t putting together, was just how much my thoughts and the food I was eating could affect the internal health of my lower back and reproductive system. Coffee was bad? I had no idea until a few years later, just how much it all related. We did not have the internet at the time, so one could only find these things out through reading and so far, nothing even prepared me to think I needed to concern myself, save for that remote comment made by the doctor before they released me from the hospital from that first death trip; ‘you might have a hard time with a pregnancy’.
Around a decade passed, when I went to the doctor to discuss getting pregnant. When I divulged the past, he took a look at my stomach, winced and asked me about any pain I might have. I told him how I had been managing and the same strange look of incredulity filters into his countenance, as he assesses me.
I don’t like the word ‘can’t’. I never thought that the word applied to me. If something needed doing, then one only had to find the way and commence doing.
In fact, it was harder for me to understand someone being stuck somehow, if you want to make a change, make one. Ahhhh, the lessons life will drive through you when you are unaware and naïve.
Anyway, Dr. Cam proceeded to tell me I might have endometriosis, just from the scar tissue alone from those previous surgeries. “What?” I respond, now incredulous myself. Well, we won’t know unless we do a laparoscopy for a better look, but just feeling around it seems very likely. So, one was scheduled and I woke up much later from the operation than I was told. It seems not only did I have endometriosis, but I had severe endometriosis, which was called ‘4th stage’. The doctor ended up removing a nest of soft-ball sized chocolate cysts out of the webbing of adhesions within my belly.
He needed to open me up with an incision to do this, after which I went through rounds of steroids.
Trying to get pregnant in the middle of all of this, and in the experiences of life that I will fill you in on the details of in my forth coming book, was just not in the cards.
I continued to meditate and pray every day, for at least ½ hour.
I asked God and my angels for guidance throughout the day and often would take to writing out affirmations.
I used the crystals I thought might help me, based on the books I found on their usage.
I read a lot of spiritual books and did the best job I could, to remain positive and share that positive message. At this point, I thought it was part of my job to ignite the passion of the living Love of God.
As far as I was concerned, some people just didn’t realize that God loved them, and this was the reason they were suffering.
Physical health was another thing entirely.
I found essential oils downtown and quickly grew to love using (what I thought at the time, was pure essential oils) always loving Frankincense. I had a passing interest in Aromatherapy, simply as a hobby.
Still, the pain in my back would not go away and got worse, wrapping all around my stomach and making me drop to the ground at times, that was if I could get up during menses. Only it started to last for a week, then a week and a half and then just any old time it wanted to show up, of course especially if I had done some heavy lifting, which I often did.
Unfortunately, it just got so bad, that I ended up back in the hospital after several more laparoscopies for a full hysterectomy and bi-lateral oophorectomy.
One more scar.
After attending a women’s retreat I met a woman during yoga that I began a friendship with, who also came to the store and did a yoga day for my customers.
She told me she was sponsoring a very good teacher on Aromatherapy and asked me if I was interested in attending. I was, but the price of over a thousand dollars at the time, was certainly more than I was willing to try and convince my husband was necessary, and so was the nearly week away from him, and my store (more on that in my NDE story online here:
and in my book).
So, I decided against the class with Jeanne Rose.
A little more than a week before the class, the yoga teacher (Linda) calls me and tells me that a woman has paid for her tuition for the class, but is too ill to make it and she has looked at the list of possible students and said that I was the one who was supposed to go in her stead. All I would have to pay is for food and lodging.
I looked up and said; “Okay God, you want me to do, so please help me tell my husband, who is not always in, such a good mood and might get angry”.
So, I prayed and approached my husband and soon I was off to attend the Aromatherapy Intensive Workshop with Jeanne Rose, the woman who rediscovered aromatherapy and brought it to this country.
After some instruction and workshops; Jeannie had us line up on either side of an isle as she passed out a sheet of paper with the names of some of the essential oils written down one side, and a place for comments down the other.
She passed first one than another aroma stick with each of the essential oils listed to each of us, and asked us to fill out the comment section after we inhaled and experienced them individually.
Finally, we were told to pass them back up to her.
She began to read aloud the comments of each of us, and as she worked her way around the room to me, I became more and more nervous, thinking I didn’t follow instructions, based on the difference of my comments and the ones she was reading.
The whole place was filled with exotic scents, and we were located in the middle of the gorgeous mountainside of southern Ohio. This place, surrounded by gardens and misty hills, was already magical, but adding the aroma’s that enticed, filled and surrounded you, was like lifting up on a cloud. Perhaps a magic carpet ride, I believe I even made such a comment.
All of that was in jeopardy of crashing to the ground, because I was sure I did not write the correct type of comments she was asking from us.
I wanted to crawl under my seat, I began to squirm so much you would have thought I was a twisted tree sitting on that seat.
Then the dreaded time had come, Jeanne began to read my comments and there was no-where to run and no-where to hide. Only, as she did, a smile broke out on her some-times stern visage (I actually appreciate that she is a teacher that wants excellence and she wants you to learn, but she doesn’t suffer fools lightly and she is a demanding teacher with strict guidelines, and just like a Rose, she covers a very sweet interior chamber filled with exotic secrets) the words spilled out in cadence and she nodded and said aloud; “Now that is what I’m talking about”. A broad smile came upon my face as suddenly things had turned around, I had actually written in a style of prose, little stories about how I felt and what I saw when I inhaled the scents, rather than just what I thought they were and what their properties were.
I loved all of the oils save for one, I would come to know the oil was, Spikenard, or Nardostachys Jatamansi which was the Latin Bi-nomenclature for the oil. When I smelled that oil, I almost vomited right then and there, and wrote that it smelled of something deep and awful, putrid. I felt embarrassed to write anything that remotely resembled these awful reactions, but I couldn’t help myself, I couldn’t cover it up and my face always exposes my true feelings for all the world to see anyway.
Frankincense on the other hand, blew my third eye and crown chakra wide open as bursts of golden light came in, as if I was meditating and the next thing I knew, I was flying down the hall of a large cathedral and right through the stained glass window over the altar and into a tunnel of golden light that took me back through time.
After that part of the class was over, we were told we were each going to be given an individual oil to work with, and this time, would have to go off on our own and write and meditate on the oil, write down its properties and applications and an elaborate story of that experience.
We stood in line, my hopes set on getting Frankincense and sure Jeannie would give me that oil as my individual exercise. As the line dwindled and I neared the table Jeannie sat at, handing out our individual samples I began to say louder and louder in a sort of whisper, “Frankincense, Frankincense, Frankincense”, hoping she would hear me, but wishing she already made up her mind, to give me that oil, since she liked my stories so much and we had obviously made a connection.
About two people before me, I hear her say to the person at the table; “you are going to have Frankincense”. My heart sunk, “what I cried aloud”, as my hopes are dashed.
Begrudgingly inhaling the scent, I became calmer. Okay, it is a calming oil, write that down. Wait, every cell in my body is starting to feel as though calm, warm water is rinsing through them and they are not just being calmed, but I am feeling somewhat sedated. I feel as though I am connecting deep into the earth, as I travel first downward the roots and dark and tangled bowels below and I no long mind that it is the spikenard that I am experiencing, I am rather enjoying the journey on whose scent is becoming sweeter as the good sweet earth surrounds me and all of a sudden, it is not something to fear, but to appreciate. I begin my ascent out of the magnificence of treasure and life in its early forms and all that helps life rise to the surface, up through the darkness I rise to the light. Each moment the scent becomes sweeter and sweeter and I am like the rest of the natural world, rising to appreciate the light out of the darkness.
So much of our natural world, waits in anticipation for the golden orb of the sun to make its way over the horizon, where they open and worship this energy that fills them with light and life, to rise and shine and spread and open into the blossoms that will scent our world and colour our lives, feeding us the nourishment we need for survival. They will follow that sun all day and start to close when he slips over the horizon, resting until the cycle repeats itself again.
Spikenard, I will come to learn, is Mary Magdalene’s oil, the oils She uses to anoint Jesus/Jeshua, and in Christ literally means, ‘anointed one.’ Jesus means ‘saviour’, so Jesus Christ, translates to ‘Anointed Saviour’.
Jeannie gave me THE ESSENTIAL OIL OF OILS TO WORK WITH!
I also learn, that spikenard is an analgesic, that it is for wounds that will not heal, physical, emotional or mental, that last line is from Mary Greer, and it is for healing past lives.
I will go on to learn many, many things, attending more classes now that I am completely seduced by aromatherapy and the entire art of healing with essential oils.
I begin to make blends that are for pain, and for the first time, I become pain free, without the use of medicine. I wonder aloud, where has this lovely art of healing been? It is over 5,000 years old and is the oldest known medicine on the planet. Pharmaceutical medicine on the other hand, is only 200 years old and actually came from the study of plant medicine!
Those plants stretch out and worship the sun all day, giving glory to God and they in turn absorb all that healing light energy, and we make essential oils out of that healing energy, literally essential oils are liquid healing light.
Bringing the aromatherapy into the shop, and having essential oil workshops among the Reiki, design, dream workshops, art therapy, yoga, etc., turns the shop into a tapestry of colour, scent, music and healing that is so lovely, it transforms me and almost everyone else that magically finds their way inside.
Soon, I am making all kinds of blends, for colds, asthma, flu, pain relief and the angels are ever busy, and I continue to pray and meditate, only now I use the essential oils and continue to find just the right blend that connects me to the Divine Mind OF God, and all that IS.
Along about the third or fourth workshop, I am at another teachers barn only with Jeannie as the main teacher again when Jeannie is distilling Geranium, or (Pelargonium Graveolens) on the table in the center of about 20 some women on the second floor of an old but well-kept, freshly painted and clean barn. We have our little rooms off the sides that are quaint and cozy.
As Jeannie distills the oil and it begins to drip into the glass container, the aroma fresh and flowery fills the air. The flame dancing, she recants the healing properties as she swills the glass just a bit and also tells us about distillation.
I am as usual mesmerized with all of it, until she starts to discuss the hormonal healing properties and how it will heal the reproductive organs and can help with things like endometriosis. I sit back in my seat bolt upright and exclaim lightly; “You can’t heal INTERNAL ORGANS THOUGH!” as several women whip their heads around to acknowledge the teaching and say, “YES YOU CAN!”…….what?
This is thousands of years old and it could have helped me heal my endometriosis?
I start shaking inside, and my eyes fill up as I excuse myself and softly walk outside.
My mind is spinning as my heart sinks. The tears are coming full force and it is all I can do to stand up, I fall to a soft spot in the ground, making sure no one is looking and begin to sob. “WHY, I thunder to God? Why didn’t I know about something that could have helped me and is thousands of years old! I could have had a baby!!! Now it is too late!” Even as I write this now, the tears flow softly down my face, recalling the experience as if it was only yesterday.
All of a sudden, a light and a warmth comes over me, as if the sun has just found me, only I know it isn’t the sun. It is the Archangel Gabrielle and He is soothing me, while he tells me; “Gloria, it might be too late for you, but it won’t be too late for you to help a lot of other women”.
Still a part of me whimpers weekly in protest, but he continues and soon I am feeling calm as I wipe my face and compose myself. “Okay God” I say out loud, “if that is what you want from me then that is what I will do, but you will have to help me.”
I return to the class of wise women. Quietly finding my way back to my seat and after sitting a while, catching up with the class; a woman who has introduced herself as Linda Honeycutt-LeGrand who was born in South Carolina and whom has befriended me at some of the other classes, walks up to me carrying a paper close to her chest. She approaches me and says: “Gloria, when you came back in, the Angel Gabriel was holding you, and so I drew this picture and wanted you to have it”. WHAT!!! She saw him too! What confirmation!
I Continue to study and after making different blends, ‘WiseWoman’ is born.
WiseWoman is a blend of 13 different essential oils, two of which are Geranium and Spikenard. It has and continues to help any pain I have, especially lower back, sciatica and it has helped truly hundreds if not thousands of people by now.
You see, not only is it helpful for endometriosis suffers and menopause hot flashes and mood swings; with all those anti-inflammatory’s and analgesics (pain relievers) among other things, it will TAKE AWAY THE PAIN. A WISE WOMAN TAKES AWAY THE PAIN.
These are just some of the stories along the way, but I will continue to share and update, so please return. Next, I hope to write about the sermon that talked to me from the pulpit, about how God doesn’t pick the obvious choice, because in my mind, I was hardly any sort of choice, nor did I ever expect to be doing what I have now been doing for almost 20 years. I love it, it has changed my life and opened doors in life and inside of me, that I never, ever would have dreamed of, but that I cannot imagine living any other way, it is so much larger a world, a vision than my own mind could possibly conjure…or is it?
That is another story for another day.
For now, please enjoy the healing blends and creams and if you have questions, please email me!