The Family Business,
or How I inherited my passion for healthy living
An integral part of my story is my history. I grew up in and around the medical profession and with healers around me. Healing is ingrained in me.
Here’s an early memory:
I’m perhaps 4 years’ old. Maybe 5. I’m sitting on my mother’s lap in a chair in my grandparents’ kitchen. In one hand I’m holding a bowl of sugar. I’m moving my hands up and down, like balancing scales, as instructed by my aunt who was visiting from her home in Sherman Oaks, California. At the time I was aware that it had something to do with the fact that I was still peeing the bed at night (this is how I’m estimating my age – if I recall correctly, I stopped when I was 6). Several years later I learned that she was testing me for sugar sensitivity, which may have been related to the bed wetting. My aunt is a Psychiatrist with medical degrees from prestigious schools. She’s been a faculty member at such schools. She’s written books. She has credentials and designations.
My maternal grandfather (my aunt’s father) was a doctor. When I was sick he’d come over or I’d go to his house. His black bag always had the tools to diagnose my earache or my sore throat. I’m almost 40 now, but I distinctively remember sticking out my tongue so that he could look at my tonsils with his light scope and him changing the bit on the end so that he could look in my ears.
That’s where it starts.
It’s part of my inspiration to be a healer.