Decodificacion Bioemocional

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Wheatgrass and Cancer

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Newsletter #286 Lee Euler, Editor Web Version  |  Subscribe  |  Back Issues  |  Resource Center  |  Feedback About  Cancer Defeated! The one juice that cancer cells just can't swallow!     For some folks, the word 'wheatgrass' conjures up images of juice bars and health food stores filled with, well, health nuts.     But have you ever wondered just what it is and  why  so many folks are so eager to chug down wheatgrass concoctions? They know what they're doing, so please keep reading. . . Continued below. . . Video of the Week: "Shocking Confessions of a Drug Company Insider"     In this exposé, a top executive of a major pharmaceutical company spills the naked truth about the drugs you and your family take... which drugs heal, and which ones KILL... what doctors turn to when they don't know the cure... what they do when they themselves or their l...
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The Magic Formula to Fight Cancer

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If you use these three ingredients every day, almost certainly there is no possibility of getting any kind of tumor. The recipe is as follows : Mix 1/4 teaspoon of turmeric with half a teaspoon of olive oil. In doing so, add a pinch of higher fresh black pepper. Mix these three ingredients in a cup. You can consume this mixture as an addition in a variety of dishes, soups and salads. Just make sure that if you use them in cooked dishes, that these ingredients do not cook too much, it is best to add them to the very end. If you drink them as the recipe states above, mix with a little water. But what exactly prevents cancer and cancer spread? All knowledge lies in turmeric. Turmeric is a spice in the form of a yellow powder, which is one of the components of curry. Its anti-inflammatory abilities are incredibly powerful. There is no other natural ingredient in the world that is more effective in reducing inflammation in the body. Recent studies have r...
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The Unnamed

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When change is knocking at the door… Life then was very difficult; feeling strange in a new country, trying to communicate in a new language, struggling to stay on my two feet between my many family struggles. I was making small bags in velvet, embroidered in French braid and coloured stones. That morning, in the Balmain markets, my stuff was looking just stunning! By midday the smell of onions and curries was drifting through the galleries, mixing with the scented incenses and the mossy heaviness of the second hand garments. Everybody around me was busy. There were plenty of people passing by along the corridor, but no one was looking at my bags. By 4pm my face was numbing  a plastic smile, hiding  monsters piling up inside;  monsters of failure, repetition of rejections, the sense of unworthiness, the morbid image of death laughing at me from every fiber of the velvet. Immersed in the darkest night I started packing up. Suddenly this woman was coming along ...
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