Merging Conventional and Natural Practices
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Therapeutic Environments is a place for healing. We merge conventional and natural practices in order to achieve wholeness, healing the mind, body, spirit and environment.
"A Grand Good-Bye to Digby"
August 25, 1940 - August 13, 2013
Read Digby's Obituary
Sunday August 25, Albuquerque Journal
A Gathering for Digby
Sunday October 20, 12 noon to 3PM
It will be in the South Valley:
840 Simon Lane (2nd Street SW, 4.6 miles south of
Rio Bravo Blvd) Albuquerque NM 87105
“Please come writers and read; drummers come and drum, wipe the tears from the window of reality and dance with the horses. Please come friends of Digby and laugh. Sing and remember that there is only today to make our voice. Come family of Digby, both near and far, both original and hand made, come and hug for it is these moments that craft our spirit and allow love to be the central theme of our very being.
“I tried eating a sandwich and it appeared to have no place to go. Now I can see that the sandwich failed to go anyplace because I was holding my breath. There are moments of peace as the sun rises and before the world acts like there is something to do. Then I feel word hugs and I can open my eyes. It is over a week and I think I hear him then I realize it is just mist in my head. There is no preparation for separation. There is only the idea of distance, one yard, two inches, just around the corner. Digby was my love, and my core, and my friend and my mirror for my life’s journey. Someone said , “oh, you don’t have to do this now” and yes I do! I have to wail my words so I can breathe. Bear with me this day and smile so he can see you. I am watching for Ravens.”
" Hearts ache together
A seat empty but close by
Spirit fills the chair"
-Connie, August 14, 2013
Friends, Home-Made Family...
“How do I say thank you to those that sat all night in my wretched presence?
Holding vigil in the circle the next day, never leaving, holding tight.
Then those who appear, call me, wipe my tears, never criticize, bring me water,
and of course chicken.
How to honor those who held me in place, creating a healing energy from afar,
words of wisdom and care? How do I ever find the words?
These are called friends, home-made family.”
Broken yarrow stalk
can still point the way along
my Spiritual Path
Like a brother,
Like a father,
Kind and gentle
Friend of Author.
Living link to past long lost,
exiled Duke of Peace and Love.
Like the robin or the dove
Herald of a futured trove.
From your sparkling eyes of yore
Verdant youth still gushes more
Than from those of long (gone) hair
with their sophomor'c despair.
Shaman, yes, you've earned it,
Fount of wisdom learned.
Tip your hat and wear it
Proudly, as by angels crowned.
Sphinx's riddle, Sage's Koan:
What's a Digby, anyone?
Wise men say that it's not known,
But I know there's only One!
-2011 Florian Birkmayer
"Blessing" by John O'Donohue, (Irish poet and philosopher)
Though we need to weep your loss,
You dwell in that safe place in our hearts
Where no storm or night or pain can reach you.
Though we cannot see you with outward eyes,
We know our soul's gaze is upon your face,
Smiling back at us from within everything
To which we bring our best refinement.
Let us not look for you only in memory,
Where we would grow lonely without you.
You would want us to find you in presence, beside us when beauty brightens,
When kindness glowsAnd music echoes eternal tones.
-sent by Valerie Roth
Yesterday (8-13) on the Sacred Calendario de Los Mayas was the day of Joob Tzi'quin. The day of 5 Eagle a good day to fly on the wings of the Eagle and have the vision from above. He chose a good day to fly with the winged beings and they carry his light to the other side. Rejoice in his remembering his connection to all once again.
-Eduardo Julajuj B'atz and Em.
“If you lean back just a little, there are 1000 women standing behind you. Feel that support and let us help you hold that ache."
It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo.
The ones that really mattered.
Full of darkness and danger they were/
And sometimes you didn't want to know the end...
because how could the end be happy?
How could the world go back to the way it was
when so much bad had happened?
But in the end, it's only a passing thing...this shadow.
Even darkness must pass.
-SAM, The Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers
And then there is Devyn. The sweetness of having her here. Quietly feeding the cat, braiding my hair, checking in and finding her Dad’s many rocks, sticks from the apple tree, and other treasures. Will she know how much I love her and how much her Dad loves her? We do. Be kind to yourself. Find your passion, love yourself.
Within this place
you are part of all that is:
a breath of life within life,
a pulse in the heartbeat of the universe,
imagination in the cosmic mind,
a voice in the conversation,
a gleam in the eye of god.
Here you may rest easy
and breathe softly
in the community of life.
Here you are encompassed in the sacred
and enfolded in the spirit.
Here you are a part of all that is
within this place.
-J. Digby Henry, MA, CHF.
My father read many things to me growing up. Winnie the Pooh, Where the Sidewalk Ends but my favorite was Where Go The Boats? from A Child’s Garden of Verses. When I was little Dad would pack up our motor home (otherwise know as the California Tin House) on the weekends and we would go have an adventure. We would find a stream or creek and settle down for the afternoon. Dad would have his books and drawings and I would muck about in the sand and rocks building little kingdoms and collecting the best looking sticks. Later in the afternoon Dad would whip out his pocketknife, take those sticks and carve them into little boats. We would test them out and then set them sailing in the stream. If we could we would pile back into the Tin House and make our way downstream to find where the boats went. Sometimes they would be waiting for us or we would see them floating by on the current and sometimes they would disappear to where ever the boats go. At night when Dad read Where Go The Boats?, it wasn’t just a poem; it was our own adventure, our own little boats sailing away. Now Dad has sailed away without me on his own adventure. He made the sun shine and the moon rise. The world will be a little less bright without him and I will miss him more then I could ever put into words. I love you Dad and while I may sail other boats, the best ones will always be the ones I sailed with you. - Devyn Henry, August 23, 2013
Where Go the Boats?
Dark brown is the river,
Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,
With trees on either hand.
Green leaves a-floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating--
Where will all come home?
On goes the river
And out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill.
Away down the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other little children
Shall bring my boats ashore.
--Robert Louis Stevenson
from A Child’s Garden of Verses
Therapeutic Environments Announces:
Master Herbal Practitioner Or Master Aromatherapist
Student Mentorship and Internship Programs
WHO WILL THIS BENEFIT: The Professional Herbalist or Essential Oil Practitioner that has graduated from or is near completion from an approved Herbal or Essential Oil program of at least 40 hours but has not had the opportunity of applying their knowledge in a consulting setting.
This program is an individualized, independent study program.
Click here to read more details...
“How do I say thank you to those that sat all night in my wretched presence? Holding vigil in the circle the next day, never leaving, holding tight. Then those who appear, call me, wipe my tears, never criticize, bring me water, and of course chicken.
How to honor those who held me in place, creating a healing energy from afar, words of wisdom and care?