Visual Energetic Healing
Over my lifetime I have come to see the world through the lens of Visual Energetic Healing, a perspective born from experiences, events, and years of exploration. Early encounters—moments of intuition, vivid dreams, and hands-on work with plants and animals—first opened my awareness to the luminous field surrounding all living things. I began noticing color, light halos, and subtle movements that seemed to reflect vitality and emotion. Those simple observations led me to study more deeply.
As I researched the nature of energy, I found resonance with the work of pioneers like Nikola Tesla and Albert Einstein. Their insights about fields, resonance, and the interconnectedness of matter and energy gave scientific contours to what I’d been sensing intuitively. Tesla’s focus on vibration and resonance reinforced my belief that everything emits frequencies; Einstein’s work on fields and relativity helped me appreciate how context and relationship shape energetic expression. These ideas didn’t prove my perceptions, but they offered frameworks that encouraged further inquiry.
Over time, practical events refined my understanding: tending ailing houseplants and watching their hues brighten after changes in light and care; calming an anxious pet and seeing its aura settle; clearing a cluttered room and feeling the space breathe. I learned that homes and objects carry layered energetic signatures from those who inhabit them, and that people we invite into our spaces bring their own patterns—sometimes harmonizing, sometimes disrupting what’s already there.
Through research, meditation, hands-on healing, and careful observation, I developed practices for tending both personal and environmental fields: clearing with light and sound, bringing natural elements indoors, setting boundaries, and strengthening my own field with prayer and frequency work. My journey has been an unfolding of curiosity and humility—seeing more clearly the colors, textures, and movements that shape well-being, and learning how attentive care can restore balance and resilience in both people and places.
In the 1980s I owned Dansco Halide, where I taught people how to grow plants indoors and helped them build thriving environments. I ran Marley Greenhouse, led workshops on composting, natural fertilizers, Garden Towers, and hydroponics, and taught plant propagation and proper starts. I even wrote How To Grow Marijuana for Health, Not High, because I believed then—as I do now—in the medicinal possibilities and the importance of responsible cultivation.
Lighting was central to everything I taught: the right light frequencies, both indoors and out, make the difference between limp seedlings and robust, productive plants. I showed growers how to set up the correct environment—temperature, humidity, circulation, and light spectrum—and how to select and use equipment. We distributed supplies and gear so people could implement what they learned, from ballast and lamps to irrigation and nutrient systems.
The work was hands-on, experimental, and deeply rewarding, but social attitudes toward marijuana in the mid-1980s made the business increasingly controversial. After mounting challenges and heated push back, I decided to close the retail store and move on to other adventures that felt more accepted and less fraught. That chapter shaped my approach to education, sustainability, and the ethics of sharing knowledge—lessons I carry forward in every project I take on.