Ancient Chinese Wisdom for Modern Health

by Dana Taylor
th-5People sometimes ask me how I stay so “young,” what is my “secret?” Of course, that’s a loaded question with a complicated answer, but one key element of enjoying good health heading into my sixth decade is simple: Sunrider Chinese Herbs.

After I watched my mother and grandmother be whittled away by cancer and the Western medicine treatments of chemo and radiation, I knew I had to do something differently or I would surely follow their path. Sunrider‘s whole food supplements of Quinary capsules, Calli Tea, and NuPlus shakes, have been the foundation of my nutrition since 1990. I am living proof of the Sunrider difference.


Here is an excerpt from my book introducing the philosophy that makes Sunrider different from most supplements:

Ever-Flowing Streams: Tapping Into Healing Energy

Tapping400Chapter 3

Alternative Medicine


Regeneration vs. Substitution

When the student is ready, the teacher will appear—so goes the ancient Buddhist proverb.  In my case, my teachers appeared via a multi-level marketing company selling Chinese herbs. While I never made a heap of money, I did make some great friends and associates. 

A Chinese chemist and an entrepreneurial American formed a partnership to bring Eastern concepts about nutrition to the United States. They developed a line of herbal products and started teaching Americans what they called the Philosophy of Regeneration.  They identified the West as a society living by the Philosophy of Substitution.

 Regeneration vs. Substitution is really East versus West in health ideology. Regeneration is a belief that the human body has healing powers that simply need to be nurtured. The heart of the word is “gene”–the genetic capability to heal. 

Substitution represents the Western idea of having drugs doing the job of the body—i.e. relying on antibiotics instead of natural antibodies. Certainly, “miracle” drugs have saved thousands of lives. But, the pendulum has perhaps swung too far in favor of powerful drugs that override the body’s innate healing abilities.

 I’ll refrain from launching into a tirade against the profit-driven evils of the drug industry, except to say that ideally drugs should be used sparingly and only for short periods of time. Every prescription drug has negative side effects that make the body weak and out of balance. That’s one reason they are controlled substances—they are dangerous. They substitute a chemical function the body should be doing for itself.

 The human body is a marvelous creation that will move toward wellness given the proper balance of nutrients, clean water, sunshine and positive emotion. The Creator embedded the directions for excellent health in the DNA of every cell of our beings. We simply need to nurture those cells.

Regeneration represents the idea of balance and nurture through the second leg of the philosophy—Whole Food Nutrition.

Whole Food Nutrition vs. Isolate Supplements

In the mid-twentieth century, Nobel Prize winning scientist Linus Pauling started an isolate bandwagon rolling when he claimed miraculous benefits of vitamin C. Molecular biologists and chemists jumped on board, providing pills loaded with vitamin and mineral isolates. Soon thousands of American children chewed their yummy Flintstones vitamins; adults dutifully swallowed their trusty One-A-Day’s. 

Despite the fact that many of Pauling’s initial assertions were largely disputed in clinical trials, vitamin megadosing became a popular trend for health-seeking Westerners.

The problem is much of these isolated nutrients are literally flushed down the toilet.  Have you ever noticed how bright yellow your urine is about an hour after you take a vitamin supplement?  That’s the dissolved pill leaving your body unabsorbed.  The reason?  Your body did not recognize or utilize the nutrients.  

Why? They were not delivered in the form of food.

 Let’s go back to some ancient wisdom: the human body was made by God; God made plants and seeds for human consumption. It says so right off the bat in the Bible:

God created man in his own image…male and female he created them…And God said, “Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food.” Genesis 1:27-30

The Creator produced food of uniquely bonded nutrients.  That same Creator designed our bodies to recognize and utilize food in form he made it. (end of excerpt)


yin-yang_graphic4-150x150Based on 5,000 years of Chinese herbal application, Dr. Tei Fu Chen developed a line of whole food products to balance, feed, and cleanse the body. These are food grade, not medicinal herbs, that bring the systems of body into harmony.

I’m not here to do a sales pitch. My days of being a Sunrider business builder are long over. I’m simply sharing a very good thing. The synergy of the Sunrider formulas provide the building blocks for healthy cell and organ function. The result is high energy and good health.

Sunrider Chinese Herbs ~ part of the Supernal Adventure!


Contact a Sunrider distributor in your area for more information and discover why they Sunrider Products are “Simply the Best.”




Beware of Dream Stealers


holidaymediumRaise your spirits with these stories of hope, family, and a touch of the angelic.

Shiny Green Shoes: 1935 was a hard year on old Route 66. The unlikely friendship between a young, black girl and an aging white actress brings hope to a town down on its luck.

Refiner’s Fire: Nestled in her beautiful home in the San Diego hills, Dina Stein is determined to celebrate Hanukkah even without her ungrateful daughter. Getting caught in a natural disaster isn’t on her agenda.

Patty’s Angels: 1960, Los Angeles. Downtown LA and the suburbs are only minutes, yet worlds, apart. A little girl brings people together, with the help of her celestial best friends.

Available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble Smashwords  Apple Store Kobo


shoes300Enjoy the opening to SHINY GREEN SHOES from HOPE FOR THE HOLIDAYS

New Orleans 1958

High-heels echo across the deserted stage floor. Set pieces surround me, ghostly illusions of imagination, waiting for lights and music to call them to life. I like the quiet time, before all the noise and energy and magic swirls in the air like the trail of stars from Tinkerbell’s wand.

Now, in the sanctuary of my dressing room, I lock the door and recline on the wide sofa—wide enough for my generous hips and impressive bosom. Surrounded by musty theater smells, dangling costumes of feathers and satin, I gather myself, find myself, remember myself.

An actress can get lost in her characters, confused by playwrights’ emotions. Being big, black and beautiful isn’t easy. I lean back on the comfy cushions and conjure the other Mazie, the hidden Mazie that only a few can see. A scrawny, gangly child uncertain of her place in the world, overlooked in the struggle to keep mind and body together.

In the quiet, that Mazie comes to me.

My gaze travels across the room to the row of shoes, each one placed under the matching costume, a final accessory to set off the gown and flash under a shapely long leg. The younger Mazie is agog with wonder and delight. So many pretty shoes, dazzling rainbow colors made just for a Mazie foot.

Lord, Lord what miracles you have wrought on this wide-eyed child of the South.

Chapter One

Luther, Oklahoma 1935

 black familyMy fascination with shoes began with a bright, green shiny pair winking at me from the shoe store window Mama and I passed everyday on the way to the Knight house in the white part of town. Until that day in my eighth year in 1935, I had no idea such wonders existed. The ugly, stiff-leathered hand-me-downs that came my way pinched my toes and made me awkward. I shucked them ratty old things the first sign of spring, running free until winter frost forced my feet into confinement once again.

We lived in Luther, Oklahoma, which survived the woes of the Depression and dust bowl by clinging to the life line of Route 66. My family survived by our work ethic, strong backs and a faith in the Almighty.

As the youngest child in a family of six, I’d learned to lurk and stay out of everybody’s busy way. With a quiet demeanor—believe it if you will—and a vivid imagination, I trailed behind Mama in a day-dreamy world, far richer than our hardscrabble reality. So, when I saw those bright, green shoes, my imagination danced and twirled as I stood mesmerized by their glowing beauty.

“Mazie June,” Mama said, “quit your dawdlin’. We’ve got a mess o’ work to do.”

“Mama,” I said. “I’m gonna have me a pair of shoes like that some day.”

Mama glanced at the treasures in the window and pursed her lips. “Who do you think you are–Shirley Temple? People like us wear plain work shoes. Times is hard and the sooner you realize you gotta earn your keep in this world, the better. I don’t know where you get all your fancy ideas, but you best set ’em aside. Wishing for what you can’t never have only breaks your heart.”

Mama grabbed my hand and dragged me down the street toward the Knight house.


holidaymediumShiny Green Shoes is part of HOPE FOR THE HOLIDAYS Available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble Smashwords  Apple Store Kobo


Write to Wellness

That Elusive Cure

THAT ELUSIVE CURE is about facing up to illness, both mental and physical, of family struggle and above all, the amazing power of hope.

Part Two from  Lisa Hinsley:

Chemo kills creativity, at least it did for me. Except… that’s not entirely true. I couldn’t write, but I could think. And I did, at length while I fought nausea and horrid side effects. A couple of novel ideas came to me, complete, like a little acorn gift, waiting to be planted in the soil of Microsoft Word.

I noted these down, ideas, possibilities, things that made me think. I simply had no ability to follow through. Chemo came to an end in May 2013. My brain slowly began to reconnect and the urge to write, which never left, but was simply dampened, came at me like an unfulfilled addiction. The odd thing was, I didn’t revisit any of my stored acorns. I set myself a goal of 500 words a day. In June I started, reacquainted myself with ABCtales and to begin with, those 500 word stories were few and far between. They were hard to write, I sat at the computer desperate to distract myself with Facebook or the news or Googling stupid stuff.

But each week I did a little better. It became a little easier to put the words together. Then it happened. I got that itch, that inkling of an idea, a starburst of inspiration, and I began a new novel.

The last novel I wrote was Plague. I wrote it in 2011. I published in December that year. I started polishing an older novel for publication in the summer, then I got sick and nothing else happened. I stopped editing. I stopped writing. I stopped caring, and it didn’t even bother me that I’d stopped caring. Usually I’m a non-stop conveyor belt of writing. I love it. I need it like I need air. Suddenly, at the very end of June 2013 I found myself back there. And I loved it.

My initial goal of 500 words, that was so hard to begin with, became easier. The chapters started to build up, and although I knew how I was going to end the story, I didn’t know how I was going to get there. All of July I wrote. In August I took time off, it was the summer holidays and I spent my time with the kids.

Then I had SIRTs a type of internal radiotherapy. Come September, my youngest son was back at school, and despite still being in recovery from SIRTs I was writing again. The train had left the station, there was no stopping me. 500 words in a morning became 1000, then 2000. Towards the end I could do almost 5000 words in the same 1-2 hour slot I’d previously been struggling to write 500 words. Then at the end of October I was finished. The first draft of That Elusive Cure was complete.

I know my health is precarious, and this wasn’t the time to stuff the book into a drawer and let it mature for months. I hope readers will emanates the feeling of hope and peace I hope readers will come away with after reading my novel.

Less than a year after I wrote the first words, That Elusive Cure is published. I’m proud of the book, and I hope as a reader you can come away with some inspiration to live your life in the moment. Have hope, there is magic out there just waiting to be mined.

Excerpt from That Elusive Cure:

I followed Janie’s car, one of those odd-looking little Fiat 500s in lilac, through the countryside and into Birkenhead. She’d said where we were going, and I knew the place. I’d passed by the church on many occasions. I’d even daydreamed about buying it and setting it up as a flat for my daughter, keeping part of the space for me and creating a studio. That was me letting my bohemian side through. The place Cass lived in was grotty, but she refused to move back home, and my dream was to buy her a decent place to live. She had this boyfriend who seemed to be quite handy. I’d let them live there for free in exchange for his manual labor.

We pulled into the tiny car park. I still had the key in my possession, and I thumbed it nervously as Janie got out of her car and walked up to the door. We were in the town center, a stone’s throw from the council parking lot I used almost every week. To think this mystery machine had been there the entire time almost made me feel taunted by it. I searched briefly for hidden cameras, my eyes settling on Janie as she stood on the stone steps by the sad-looking church, patiently waiting for me. Taller buildings crowded in on three sides casting the building into shadow.

“You ready for this?” She took the key from me and inserted it into the lock. “You need to give it a little jiggle or the mechanism won’t turn.” She yanked on the key, her fingers white for a moment as she struggled. Then the key turned. I glanced up at the windows. They were so dirty I couldn’t tell if they were stained glass or not. Wire mesh covered each and added to the camouflage. The stone walls might once have been a warm grey, but now traffic dirt covered every surface and the building looked as if it was covered in soot.

My nerves were getting the better of me now, like a ball of static had got inside of me and needed me to jump around to get it out. I stamped my feet and tried to regain control.

“Go on.” Janie indicated that I should turn the handle.

“Okay…” We swapped positions and I pushed the door open. It was one of these heavy oak affairs, although the wood was so grimy I couldn’t actually tell what kind of wood it was. My belly ached, the tumors making themselves known, and I stepped over the threshold.

Inside was dark, the windows shedding little light. We entered the nave, our footfalls loud on the stone floor. Someone had pushed all the pews up against the walls, piled like firewood and abandoned. A pod-like machine big enough for a single person rested in the cleared space, its metallic hull gleaming like buffed silver. In the background a large cross still hung behind the altar.

“This is it.” Janie knelt beside the machine and put her hand on the surface, almost like a lover’s touch. “This is what cured me.”

PictureBorn in Portsmouth in 1971, Lisa Hinsley grew up in England, Scotland, and America. She now lives on the Wirral, in northwest England, with her husband, three children, and four cats.

Lisa’s novels Plague and The Ultimate Choice have featured regularly on the UK Amazon bestsellers charts and are now published in the USA by Simon & Schuster. Visit her website Lisa C. Hinsley

Lisa has been interviewed on the BBC regarding care for cancer patients.

Why are we frightened of reincarnation?

Ever-Flowing Streams: Tapping into Healing Energy

Chapter 9


This excerpt is Part II in a series on reincarnation:

I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have changed several times since then.–Alice in Wonderland

Born Again?

Great minds and mystics have grappled with the theory of reincarnation for eons. The modern Christian church dismisses the concept. The party line is that we are born once; we have the option of accepting Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior for our ticket to heaven; if we don’t, we are condemned to hell. This interpretation of scripture promotes church membership quite effectively.

But looking historically and globally, I found that reincarnation has been embraced by cultures far and wide. Even the Bible retains passages that allude to it. Besides the reference above from Matthew naming John the Baptist and Elijah as the same soul, Jesus seemed to convey the concept in several references:

John 8:58–Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am.

Luke 9:18-20–“Who do the people say that I am?” And they answered, “John the Baptist; but others say Elijah; and others, that one of the old prophets has risen.”

John 9:2—As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

If you take the above passages at face value, it appears there was a cultural acceptance of the idea that souls return to the earthly plane. Clearly, the people of the time exhibited a belief in reincarnation if they conjectured Jesus might be the returning spirits of Elijah or an Old Testament prophet.

Also implied in the last quotation is an understanding of karma, the cosmic law of cause and effect. Who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind? The question indicates a belief that a child born blind could be the result of previous misdeeds.

Other scriptures point to a karmic philosophy:

Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap-Galatians 6:7

Do unto others what you would have them do to you—Matthew 7:12

All who draw the sword will die by the sword—Matthew 26:52

Theologians have argued these passages for two thousand years. One of the earliest and most respected was Origen of Alexandria who lived from 185-254 A.D. According to the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, he believed in the “pre-existence and fall of souls; multiple ages and transmigration of souls; and the eventual restoration of all souls to a state of dynamic perfection in proximity to the godhead.” Quite the metaphysician, Origen. He devoted his life to teaching and writing his Christian beliefs until the Roman Emperor of the day ordered a purging of the followers of Christ. Origen was martyred in Tyre.

The debate continued for another two hundred years until the church grew into a political institution. According to Life Between Life by Joel L. Whitton, Ph. D, “The new Church-State alliance, aiming for the cultivated dependence of the masses, felt threatened by those who believed in rebirth because such Christians tended to be self-reliant, free-thinking individuals whose subservience could not be guaranteed.”

In 553 A.D., the Fifth Ecumenical Council condemned Origen’s theories as heresy (the root definition meaning “able to choose”).  Emperor Justinian formally denounced the concept of rebirth in no uncertain terms:

If anyone assert the fabulous pre-existence of souls and shall assert the monstrous restoration which follows from it: let him be anathema

Wow–let him be anathema– as in a “person or thing accursed or consigned to damnation or destruction.” [1]

Zealous church leaders followed up that dictate by slaughtering a half million reincarnation-believing Cathars in Southern France during the 1200’s. Not satisfied with that carnage, the Inquisition was born.

Carol Bowman sums up the legacy of such repression in Children’s Past Lives thus:

The murderous efficiency of the Inquisition proved effective. The persecution by the institutional Church has scarred our collective psyche, and it has surrounded us with an invisible fence dividing what is safe from what is dangerous to believe. Since then, people who harbor forbidden ideas have learned to keep their thoughts to themselves. Our cultural memory still carries the fear of reprisal for publicly associating with any occult practices, the use of psychic powers or a belief in reincarnation.

Consequently, believers in reincarnation were effectively wiped out or muzzled. In time, the masses of the West generally forgot about it. The day-to-day struggle to survive and the poor education of the eras erased reincarnation concept from cultural memory.

History marched on—the Renaissance, the split of church by the Reformation, and the Industrial Revolution transformed the West, but reincarnation did not figure into the world-view paradigm. And maybe that was a good thing.

End of excerpt

All of Chapter 9 is available to read at

Tapping400Ever-Flowing Streams: Tapping into Healing Energy is available at:



© 2010 by Dana Taylor
All rights reserved



Into the Storm ~ Jaguar Jack

JackmasterfinaldonergbJaguar Jack Campbell
, Aussie reality TV star, travels the globe filming escapades in the wild. His charismatic charm conceals an unwanted psychic gift and buried memories.

Major Maggie Savannah, aka Maggie-the-Mouth, is brash, brave and beautiful. She lives to beat the bad guys via covert military operations. The last thing she wants is a pretty boy TV personality partner.

But when a missionary is kidnapped by terrorists on a mysterious island, Jack and Maggie must join forces to secure her rescue and, perhaps, save the world.

The Set-Up: Jack and Maggie are heading into the heart of the island of Paradisio in a small motorboat. A sudden squall comes up and they get a glimpse of their real nemesis.


Excerpt from Chapter 12

A roll of thunder cut short their discussion; gusts of wind whipped up the water. A strange, putrid scent rode the breeze. Branches groaned; shushing, creaking sounds of leaves quivered. Limbs waved overhead from the approaching storm.

Jack surveyed the sky. Tropical storms came swiftly, nothing unusual in that. But these black clouds swirled with rare speed, as if pushed by an unseen hand. Calm water quickly turned into a boiling cauldron. A curtain of fog fell, dark and thick. Along the bank, just behind the first screen of trees, Jack thought he saw a figure pass.

Trees shook in great disturbance.

A lightning bolt split a tree, sending it up in instant flame. The sudden illumination flashed on a long, dark body. A feline shape with a huge head. It reared up on hind legs and revealed front feet with extended bear-like claws. A savage howl tore over the storm’s din; the smell of death permeated the air.

Darkness shrouded the creature in shadow once again.

“Holy shit! What was that?” Maggie yelled. Her exclamation faded in the storm cacophony.

Jack struggled to keep the boat on an even course. Hard rain let loose from the skies. He threw a bucket to Maggie and shouted, “Start bailing.”

Water pelted from every direction. Drenching…sloshing…soaking. Deafening crashes of thunder rumbled overhead, followed by jagged spears of lightning striking the ground.

The little boat bobbed and twirled like a toy in a tempest. Waves slapped his face and chest with stinging force. He fought to keep the rudder steady until his arms quivered with fatigue. Maggie’s soaked figure worked furiously before him against the onslaught of water into their small vessel. At one point a flash of lightning illuminated the magnificent defiance on her face.

Almost as quickly as it came, the rain slackened…

The darkness faded…

The river settled…

Jack righted their course down the middle of the rushing river. Plant debris floated past in the currents.

Maggie pushed a clump of hair from her face and slowed her bailing to catch her breath. “What kind of animal was that back there?”

He didn’t know what to tell her. It was nothing ever mentioned in any zoology books, that’s for sure. It might have been his overactive imagination, if she hadn’t seen it, too.

He’d just glimpsed the stuff dreams were made of—his dreams, his nightmares. Crikey, could such an animal be possible? Surely those tales of mythology were exaggerations.

“I’ve only seen it called one thing. In the Book of Revelation it’s known as The Beast.”



The Adventures of Jaguar Jack is available in paperback and ebook at

The Knowing by psychic Nita Lapinski

The Knowing Forrest 1“The Knowing –Awake in the Dark” is a true story that will take you on an
unexpected journey into the mind of a clairvoyant child as she navigates the
harsh and painful realities of her life.

Psychic abilities are no guarantee for a happy life, as Nita Lapinski’s life
story powerfully reveals. When family life lacks a foundation of love and
support, too often girls seek love in some very wrong places. Nita’s desperate
choice of Aaron Goddard set her on a life path of abuse and drug addiction from
the time she hit puberty. What I found so fascinating about this tale wasn’t so
much the paranormal elements, but the fact that Nita managed to grow into a
mature, wise woman. Of course, it was largely through the help of her spirit
guides that she was able to rise from immaturity and near-fatal fantasies to
mental clarity.

Writing memoir is very difficult. Nita keeps the story
rolling with key scenes and credible characters. Ultimately, this is a story of
hope. People can change and there is divine guidance waiting to give us a
helping hand when we are ready to receive it. ~ Dana Taylor

EXCERPT from The Knowing: Awake in the Dark

San Francisco

Sleeping homeless people crowded every open doorway and overhang. They lay on tattered cardboard mats and newspaper – the lucky were wrapped in blankets or sleeping bags and others huddled under layered clothing – their heads covered in wooly caps. Sidewalks and gutters saturated with urine brought to mind an outdoor latrine whose smell could not be escaped in the damp morning air.

The San Francisco sky was heavy with fog that left a cloud of moisture clinging to my face as I walked to Pete’s for my morning espresso.  As I approached the street corner, a homeless man sat up and leaned against the doorway of where he’d slept. Jumbled in a heap beside him, in a filthy burrow of despair, was fishing net stuffed with clothes tied in a tight ball, a torn plastic Safeway bag that brimmed with crushed aluminum cans and his bedding in a tangled mass of guarded treasure. His feet were bare and blackened with street grime, his toenails shockingly yellow and long and the odor of his unwashed body wafted toward me carried in the mist. Webbed with deep cracks that looked raw and painful, his swollen hands shook as he carefully opened a pint-sized bottle that contained his salvation and lifted it reverently to his lips.

I watched the man and thought -What a shame – Poor man, what a waste. – The voice was immediate, – Who are we – It asked – to judge our brother? Perhaps a hundred people pass by him today, forever changed by his presence. Can it be his gift to us? Does he live exactly as his soul intends? How can we know? I was stung with the arrogance of my thoughts and felt embarrassment spread to my cheeks. I believed my thoughts were compassionate and didn’t see the judgment in them. Instantly, my critical opinion and limiting thoughts were exposed. The homeless man stared blankly into the street – caught in his own reverie as I passed – but after that morning – when I found myself in judgment of others – thinking that I knew a better path for them – I remembered the voice and worked hard to let my judgment go and look within to discover what my real fear or self-judgment was. I found that every time I judged another, it was my own limiting thoughts that needed change.

What’s amazing about this story is it is true. ” KT28  |  15 reviewers made a similar statement

I fully enjoyed this book and highly recommend it. ” rachel  |  7 reviewers made a similar statement
In trusting your inner voice anyone can create their life experience. ” DJFL  |  6 reviewers made a similar statement
Available at Amazon  See trailer on YouTube


From Nita Lapinski:


    I am a working clairvoyant medium and have been successfully teaching meditation classes and giving workshops on forgiveness, releasing judgment and finding ones intuition for at least three decades. I am a certified hypnotherapist and studied integrative breath work.

      I live in Arizona with my husband where I write and give readings. I have thousands of clients all over the US and abroad. I am naturally gifted with the Clairs, and have been able to hear guidance for myself and others for as long as I can remember and gave my first professional reading at nineteen.

                The Knowing-Awake in the Dark is my first book. I have always been a psychic.