Perhaps the best way to learn about a company is to know a little bit about the person who created it.
My Story
My journey into health and wellness began in my mother’s kitchen, over thirty years ago. With four girls and two boys to care for, my mother lived by the creed that an ounce of prevention is worth more than a pound of cure. Our school days began with a hefty dose of fiber in hot bowls of Quaker Oatmeal and Cream of Wheat, a nutritious glass of milk mixed with Ovaltine followed by a Flintstone vitamin and a tablespoon of castor oil to ward off the common cold. Sore throats were cured with fresh lemons and a dollop of honey and never was our home without a can or bottle of Lysol to ward of germs and viruses that might be lingering in the air.
Our kitchen shelves could rival those of any health food store. Vitamin C with Rosehips, Zinc and B-Complex were staples as were my mother’s jars of Lecithin and bags of Brewer’s Yeast. Yogurt, pistachios, almonds, cashews and a host of fresh fruits and vegetables were regulars on the grocery list. My mother’s beauty regimen included rosewater for the daily washing of her face, Witch Hazel to tone, and Epsom salts to soak and soften her feet. Fresh green avocados, honey, and raw wheat germ served for her weekly deep cleansing facial. Cucumber slices and herbal tea bags relieved the puffiness from her eyes. Not to be missed was the daily massage of her legs from thigh to ankle with a sweet, all-natural rose scented lotion that gave my mother the most beautiful set of legs in town.
My vision of living well and living naturally expanded on my grandparent’s five acre farm every summer, deep in the heart of Georgia, in a small town that didn’t even have its own bus station. Pine trees and old oak trees so tall it seemed as if they touched the edge of heaven. Pecan trees and peach trees, strawberry and watermelon patches, rows of corn, green peas, collards and tomatoes kept them busy all summer long. Fresh brown eggs awaited us in the hen house, as did the jars of peach and strawberry preserves that my grandmother canned and stored in the shed for safe keeping.
My grandfather, part Cherokee Indian, was a natural storyteller and delightfully simple man who rarely had the need to go to a doctor. He and my grandmother lived off of the land, fished from nearby streams and creeks with hand-carved bamboo rods. They taught us how to live sustainably long before global warming was a thought in anyone’s mind. I learned the patience and perseverance necessary to be a gardener and what it means to have what the poet Alice Walker calls “absolute trust in the goodness of the earth.” I learned the many ways in which the kitchen shelf could be one’s own apothecary and how incredibly simple good health could really be.
Given my upbringing, it is not surprising that I would become a nurse and that for me, the focus of medicine would become health promotion and disease prevention.
But six months out of nursing school I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that something was terribly wrong with the way we were managing healthcare. Aside from the irony that my professional colleagues (caregivers, mind you) were, themselves, burnt out, stressed and often sleep deprived, what was most astounding was the cycles of illness created by the system itself. The ways in which patients were reduced to nothing but a sum of body parts — a cardiologist for this part, a nephrologist for that part, a pulmonologist for the other — and no one ever knowing what the other was treating. Misinformation led to delays in diagnoses, delays in treatment, and sadly, misdiagnoses altogether.
What bothered me too, was the ways in which every symptom was treated with a pill. Something as simple as constipation warranted a pill, rather than the simpler solution of a warm glass of tea. I was struck by the vicious cycle — one prescription for one pill led to a whole host of side effects that needed to be mitigated with another pill and another and another until the patient, confused and frustrated, was simply a storehouse of chemical substances. I knew I wanted out almost as soon as I had gotten in, but what kept me for fifteen years was the patients. The patients who constantly thanked me for my style of nursing care; who saw something in me that I didn’t even recognize myself.
That “something” was a profound sense of awe and deep respect for Native American and Eastern healing traditions; a shared belief in the first dictum of natural healing: “do no harm.” In my own life I was secretly fascinated by the role of shamans and curanderas — healers — who understood the connectedness of body, mind, and spirit and use the least invasive measures necessary to heal disease.
This was the mid 90’s, long before the trend of green living.
I was engaged in my own independant study of brilliant
physicians, teachers, and healers like Andrew Weil, Tieraona Low Dog, Louise Hay, Wayne Dyer and Deepak Chopra. I was studying poetry and Eastern religions and the beautiful writings of Parmahansa Yogananda, Khalil Gibran, Thich Nhat Hanh and the Dalai Lama. When ill, I used my mother’s old healing remedies, those of my grandparents and those I found in what I consider the “bible of natural living” - Back To Eden by Jethro Kloss (a must own book). After long twelve hour shifts, I came home to my classroom of organically grown vegetables, often experimenting with teas, tinctures, and essential oils of all sorts, studying the pharmacology of herbs so that I could understand the difference between adaptogens (herbs that help the body deal with stress) and alteratives (herbs that cleanse the blood).
My eleven year old daughter — a yogini in the making
Motherhood expanded my vision of health and wellness exponentially. Traveling with my husband and children through the ancient Mayan ruins of Costa Maya and through the countryside of Belize confirmed what I had been studying all those years and what I knew intuitively: medicine and healing wasn’t as complicated as we, in the U.S., where making it out to be.
You could say, then, that for the past 15 years I have led a double life.
By day I’ve been a Critical Care/Trauma Nurse, practicing in an entirely scientific, allopathic model of healthcare. By night, I’ve been a teacher, healer, community herbalist, and life student of holistic, naturopathic healing. These fifteen years are the bedrock upon which I’ve built my business.
My mission is simple: to build the bridge between the best of those two worlds.
From a nursing perspective I offer critical assessment skills, a solid knowledge of anatomy, physiology, microbiology and pharmacology. I am skilled in nutritional analysis and diet management. My work experience with some of the leading specialists in the country gives me the language necessary to speak intelligently and authoritatively about disease management and prevention. My background in community health affords me the ability to connect to everyday people and their everyday health challenges.
Add to this my training in therapeutic yoga. After many years of personal practice, I embarked upon a training to become a certified Integral Yoga Therapist. Over the years my personal practice of yoga, of growing my own vegetables and relying upon herbs and vitamins to sustain my energy and my overall health, has served as a living classroom. I truly live what I teach.
Yoga in the park: Angel Shannon in Plow Position (Halasana)
In my practice, I offer private yoga therapy and holistic health coaching, with a focus on women’s health and wellness. My approach blends the best of modern medical science with an understanding of ancient healing traditions that stretch across all four corners of the world.
Where does she go from here, you ask? Good question. I'm pursuing a masters in public health (MPH) help join the effort of improving health prevention education and establish a new paradigm of integrative primary healthcare for women and children.
This is a new day, and a new time. I hope to see you somewhere along the path !
Yours in Good Health,
ANGEL
