I write this post in the greatest of haste.

A good sort of haste. The sort of haste experienced as a bartender at a jammed-up college bar.  The sort of haste where 21 old kids are screaming drinks and shots and professions of love and bottles are flying in and out of wells and top shelves and money is changing hands and everyone’s laughing and dancing and shouting and – oh, wait, there’s a fight and your barkeep just leaped over the bar to throw the guy out – and oh my goodness its suddenly lights up and there’s hundreds of dollars in your tip bucket and the cash register exactly matches dollars in for drinks sold and you’re just about the cat’s meow.

This is an entirely different sort of haste but haste nonetheless.  A very focused, humming, sort of happy haste.  In truth, its not really haste so much as being in a state of Flow.

Because Joe is out with the baby buying chicken feet for the broth I’m about to make for us.  I have maybe 30 minutes.  Maybe.

(And if you’re thinking “ewwww…. chicken feet?”  Well, I totally understand.  I’ve been there.  On many levels, the entire business is repugnant.  But, my dear, you would change your mind if you tasted the broth because it is so clean and flavorful, and it also happens to be extraordinarily healthy.  Just like organ meats (liver, kidney, etc.)  We have fallen so far from the wisdom of living in symbiosis with the gifts of life from our planet.  And so I honor the chicken and its feet… and then I slice them up to boil in broth.)

In 30 minutes time, there is so much to say.  So much has changed in the last couple of weeks, for Adahlia and I both (hopefully).  And I realize I have not updated any of you kind folks with pictures of her since she was one year old, and so here it is, along with some stories:

Winter weather is upon us in Portland Oregon.  I recently went with Adahlia to the store to purchase some necessary items to keep her warm.  She picked out a bluish-purple coat with little owls on it. She also picked out a hat — a hat that is clearly much too large.  But she wore it all around the store, which was a big deal because she has a fascination with hats, as long as they are on someone else’s head.  I was psyched!  Finally, a hat she will leave on, just in time for the coldest months of winter!

But when I tried to give her the one in her size, she took if off in disgust.

This is the one she wanted…

She is just about the most beautiful little thing you’ve ever seen, no?

I’m very excited and hopeful because I’ve started incorporating homeopathic spagyric medicine into our routine.

(I’d be happy to talk with you about it sometime.  It involves alchemy and separating the yin and the yang of the substance and then combining it back together.  The result?  A very powerful medicine!)

After doing some self-experimentation in the last couple of weeks, I have discovered that the spagyrics combined with the chinese herbs and an anti-inflammatory diet allow me to stop doing the tincture of western herbs and other homeopathics, and reduces my constant kidney pain from a 3/4 to a 0/1.  Since its worked so well for me, I’ve started doing it with Adahlia. My intention?

1) To reduce and resolve her iron overload situation

2)  To stimulate her bone marrow to make more RBCs

We just started, but I have been observing her closely and have good reason to hope.  And that’s what all the “chop wood, carry water” is about:  All day long, we chop vegetables and make the foods and juices and mix the medicines necessary for us.  Its intense.  Its gluten-free, dairy-free, soy-free, sugar-free, corn-free, grain-free, night-shade and tomato-free, etc.  Its all-day meal and supplement and vitamin and juice and smoothie preparation.  And then, usually, at some point we go on a short walk.  We enjoy the fresh, cold air.  And Adahlia takes a nap.

It’s a lot.  We have nearly snapped under the strain.  But, just when all seemed lost, something incredible happened:  it shifted.  We have come into a place that is remarkable.  As a family, we are closer than ever.  We are kinder and more honest and more fearless than ever.  More loving and supportive than ever.  Our outlook and perspective has grown and shifted.  We are transforming not only individually but as a unit, together, and its very exciting.  It is attributable to every thing.  We are healing.

We are in a place of flow.

Oh, they just arrived (with chicken feet!)

So I have to go.  But I will first tell you some quick stories:

Adahlia loves the moon.  When she sees it, she points and makes little “bu” sounds to draw my attention.  When I sign “moon” she laughs, excited.

She has started helping out around the house a lot.  She likes to carry the cloth diapers after they come out of the wash back to the living room to fold.  She empties the silverware tray of the dishwasher one item at a time – holding it over her head for me to pluck from her fingertips.  She empties the tea drawer of its boxes and bags of tea, handing them to my while I’m at the counter until its empty and then I hand them all (one-by-one) back to her to put away.  (Ok, that last one isn’t really all that helpful.)

She’s very particular about who she’s handing things to, and if my hands are full and Joe tries to get her to give him the items she’s sorting, she’ll refuse.  She moans and babbles unhappily for me to finish.

When she’s excited, she screeches a high pitch screech like that of an eagle or osprey and stomps her feet in quick succession.  (“Fast feet!  Fast feet!”)  She does this when her dad puts another log on the fire, or when she’s about to be given a piece of watermelon, or about to play with my Angel Cards, which she adores.

In the grocery store, Jim Morrison’s “People are Strange” comes on.  She sits up straighter, on alert, gaining my instant mom-radar attention.  Then she begins to bounce in her seat.  We dance and sing in the aisles until the song is over, because good music is worth stopping for.  In the produce area, she gets excited about the avocado and banana (“bu! bu! bu!”).  I let her out of the cart and hand her an avocado. She carries it faithfully around the store and I lift her up so she can set it on the belt at check-out.

Just about two weeks ago, we went to the Portland Oregon Road Runner’s Club Turkey Trot.  Adahlia was entered into the Tot Trot at the Zoo.  We ran the whole 1/2 mile as a family:  First, she ran along holding our hands and we all shouted “ahhhh!!!!!!” like a battle cry.  Then we took turns carrying her in our arms as we jogged along, and as we ran past the cheering volunteers she waved enthusiastically.  We set her down for the big finish at the end and she ran in with us, holding our hands.

She likes to fall asleep using my bicep as a pillow, tucked into the crook of my arm, my arm curled around her back, my hand resting over her tiny hip and leg.  Sometimes, she will pull at my clothing covering my arm — she wants to rest her head against my bare skin, to feel its warm and listen to its pulse.

She has a fascination and love for belly buttons.  If you ask, she will show you her belly button and then point at yours to see yours, too.

Whenever we start the juicer, she comes running.  She likes to put the celery and carrots in and push them down.  She is so proud of herself when she helps make the “vegetable water”!

She still absolutely loves, loves, loves music and books.  On Saturday, Dec 14th, we are going to Red Yarn‘s Winter Holiday concert and puppet show at the library in the SW hills.  Hooray!  Come if you can make it!!!

Warmest wishes and love to you and yours in this holiday season of Light.  Please keep our family in your positive intentions and prayer as we continue on a path of accelerated healing.  Adahlia will heal from DBA and so will countless other children.  Her story (and mine) will help others who are suffering find hope and ways to restore their lives.

Thank you for sharing this journey with us!