THESE ARE MY STORIES
About Me
Laura Denktash is a world-renowned thought leader in empowerment, women's sovereignty, and remembrance. She’s an international speaker and bestselling author, spiritual teacher, creatrix, and entrepreneur.
Creativity runs through Laura’s blood. It’s what makes her heart pound. She is a lifelong creative dedicated to pursuing her creative passions and talents, and she loves helping others discover their own gifts and encouraging their expression. She believes that in its highest expression, creativity is freedom, and freedom is creativity. Ideas are her magic, and she always follows her fascination.
For more than twenty years, she has helped women expand what they believe is possible in their lives—particularly in creativity, spirituality, and personal power—through the Wisdom of the Rose.
Her first book, The Rose Cookbook: A Treasury of Rose Recipes from Around the World, broke new territory at a time when cooking with roses was an obscure niche.
Through her popular digital courses, social media platforms, podcast appearances, live events, and a growing library of both free and paid teachings, her work has reached women around the world.
Laura’s approach is shaped by a lifetime of spiritual studies as well as a corporate background where she served as a management consultant to many corporations and government agencies at the highest level, helping them improve their business processes and operations. She blends this together with her own lived experience in a way that is distinctly her own.
Laura’s creative journey has now come full circle, and her lifelong love of the Rose is now center stage. Her current expression of the Rose Codex, as a means of peace, remembrance, and creativity, has merged into a powerful, unique blend of magic! She has realized that this information and the healing it can bring are sorely needed on Earth at this time. After tracing her Rose Lineage back four generations through her maternal great-grandmother, she realized this is her soul mission for this lifetime.
Her newest book, Rose Codex: The Art of Divine Remembrance, and the Oracle Deck of the same name are now available for pre-sale. What began as a course creation has blossomed into a dynamic trilogy, with Rose Codex: The Threshold Roses and Rose Codex: The Galactic Roses in the works and set for release in 2027. These books will also have accompanying Oracle Decks and Journals.
She is a master storyteller and a sought-after podcast guest who vividly describes her life experiences and ascension journey, adding humor and offering encouragement to listeners. Laura presently resides in the Midwest and is planning a move back to her home state of California.
MY ROSE LINEAGE STORY
Long before my grandmother Maria Catalina Rubio was born in Mazatlán, her grandmother carried the seeds of the Rose Lineage across oceans.
In Marseilles, France, amid the salt air of the Mediterranean and the lavender fields of Provence, my great-great-grandmother, Maria Ana Flores Monet, tended her garden. She was no ordinary gardener. She was a Pilgrim of the Rose. The residents of her town spoke widely of her “gift” with the flowers and herbs. They believed she knew how to speak with them, and they marveled at her lush garden and the vast array of robust roses she seemed to grow effortlessly.
The faithful Maria Ana had walked the limestone paths of La Sainte-Baume, climbing the 150 steps to the grotto where Mary Magdalene was said to have spent her final years in prayer. She had knelt in the Basilica of Saint-Maximin, where pilgrims venerated the relics of Magdalene, and she carried those experiences and memories deep within her body. The time would come when she would pass these memories onto her children and keep the Rose Lineage going.
Pregnant and resolute, Maria Ana and her husband Virgileo Monet joined the Great Migration, leaving France for new economic opportunities in Mexico. The ocean voyage was long, but she carried with her the memory of roses blooming in her French gardens and the Sacred lineage of Magdalene’s devotion. As they settled in their new home in Mazatlán, Maria Ana quickly planted roses in the soil of her new land, weaving together her French heritage with the rich Mexican earth.
Not only did she carry her daughter in her womb across the sea, but she had also carried some rose cuttings, seeds, and rose hips from her home. She devoted herself to carefully nurturing and keeping them moist during the journey. Because she could not bear to part with them, and leaving them behind would have broken her heart, she was determined to bring her Sacred Roses to the new land.
In Mazatlán, she welcomed her daughter, who would become Catalina’s mother —my great-grandmother, Augustina Flores Monet — into the world. As a child, Augustina helped her mother with the chores and the garden work. Madame Monet had instilled in her daughter a love of gardening and especially of the Rose. She passed down the stories of her memories in France and her devotion to Mary Magdalene.
Instilled with deep faith, Augustina carried the Rose Lineage forward. Tending her own roses with pride. At a young age, she married into the Rubio family. She went on to have five children: Anna, Margarita, Francisca, Miguel, and my grandmother Catalina. Sadly, she passed away at a young age, but the Rose Lineage did not die—it was held and lovingly maintained by her daughter, Catalina.
With both her parents gone, my grandmother, Catalina, spent her teenage years moving between relatives’ homes, working as a servant for her keep. This was not a good position for a young girl. She felt rootless yet resilient. She prayed. The stories of her grandmother’s roses, of shrines in France, of Magdalene’s cave, and the Basilica in Saint-Maximin lived in her memory. She longed to see those places but had to be content to hold them in her heart.
With her prospects dimming in Mexico, Catalina, at eighteen, immigrated to San Francisco, accompanied by her family friend Laura, who had arranged passage and the trip. With nothing much but the clothes on her back, a satchel, her papers, her rosary, and a coveted picture of the Virgen of Guadalupe, Catalina and Laura entered the United States. But there was one more precious thing she brought with her: the family roses and her Rose Lineage.
Laura was a wonderful friend to my grandmother. She was older and was one of the women whom my grandmother relied on to fill the gap left by the loss of her own mother. Laura arranged housing and a factory job for my grandmother, enabling her to earn her own money in her new country, which she grew to love. One night at a dance, she met Abelardo, who would become my grandfather. He asked his friend, “Do you see that girl over there? I’m going to marry her.” Soon they married, settling into their own home in San Francisco and raising two daughters, Anna Maria, my mother, and Rosa Maria, my aunt.
The girls grew up, and my mother chose to marry her high school sweetheart, my father, while Rosa became a nurse and joined the Navy. By then, my grandfather had purchased a large flat in San Francisco. My grandparents lived on the top floor, and we lived on the bottom floor. But I had the run of the house. Some of the most precious memories of my early childhood were spent with my grandmother in her garden, where she taught me the ways of plants and anointed me with the magic of the Rose.
She was deeply religious and taught me that Mother Mary was within the Rose. She taught me how to access Mother Mary whenever I needed her. She taught me the signature of many plants and to recognize their fragrances. I found it fascinating and loved spending time with her there. It was in the garden that she told me the stories of my ancestors in France, and how she had longed to go there. She relayed all the family Rose stories, and somehow, I absorbed them like a sponge. She knew I would be the one to continue the line, and that brought her great joy. Many times, she would cry, and I did not understand why, but now I understand.
The Rose became more than a flower in this lineage—it became a symbol of survival, sovereignty, devotion, and remembrance. From the shrines of Provence to the gardens of Mazatlán, from the wandering child to the immigrant woman, the Rose was the thread that bound generations.
And now, many years later, I carry this lineage forward—not only as memory but as transmission. I have chosen to remember. The Rose is my inheritance, my grandmother’s gift, my great-great-grandmother’s devotion, and Magdalene’s eternal teaching.
I have been positioned as a living continuation of a Rose Lineage that crossed oceans, continents, and borders, survived loss, and bloomed anew in every generation. And now, dear ones, it’s time for me to share this beauty with you. It’s time to remember.
Sending Love,
Laura
THE STORY
OF MY ROSE COOKBOOK
The Rose has spoken to me again.
I have come full circle and must share this part of my story!
The Rose speaks deeply, and at the most unexpected times.
For five beautiful years, I was a student and patron at the Dry Creek Herb Farm & Learning Center in Auburn, California. Nine months out of the year, from September through May, I traveled from the Bay Area to the Sierra foothills for a weekend of learning, fun, and adventures. During those precious hours, I escaped the urban jungle and immersed myself in nature, feeling grounded, renewed, and energized.
Sadly, in 2000, after more than ten successful years, the farm’s owners decided to sell the property and move to Oregon. That May, we celebrated the May Festival on a Sunday afternoon as our year of study came to an end. I had grown used to these endings as bittersweet, but this time there would be no reunion in September.
It didn’t matter. The bees were buzzing, and the dragonflies abounded in this magical place! The late-spring gardens were robust and tantalized us with a preview of the annual summer explosion of growth and vivid colors. I watched the giant sunflowers gently bobbing in the warm breeze. I felt their energy and was in tune with the universe. I was happy and content. I remember feeling incredibly grounded in the Earth and incredibly safe that day. But as I looked around at my friends and the beautiful home away from home I had come to love, I couldn’t help wondering where this journey was taking me.
“This couldn’t be the end,” I said to myself.
Many of my classmates had been very active in their gardens, growing and harvesting herbs and making tinctures, syrups, flower waters, and salves in their spare time. I had internalized the knowledge, but I didn’t have much to show for all my efforts thus far. All I had were lots of plants, books, and notebooks piled up on my dining room table! I often thought I would write a book about herbs, but it seemed that all the good ones had already been written. I was certain of this because I owned all of them!
“Oh well,” I sighed. “This is too lovely a day to worry about that. Why worry? I’m having a wonderful time, and isn’t that what matters? I have all summer to consider what to do, I reasoned.
But something about that day felt incredibly potent and magical! There was a buzz in the air. The beautiful California blue sky was just a little bit bluer. The warm breeze was just a little bit more seductive. I could feel the frequency of life around me! Still, what would I do that Summer as the land yielded its annual bounty? I kept wondering. What would I create?
After our class activities concluded that day, we continued the festivities with a delicious, healthy potluck lunch. It was a true celebration. The farm potlucks were legendary! Imaginative dishes made with the freshest ingredients and lots of love were always satisfying after a rigorous day spent working in the gardens. Eating outdoors made it even better, and, in addition to their other great attributes, many of the women in the group were highly skilled cooks. Everything tasted so delicious, and choosing a favorite dish that day would have been impossible.
I was in the zone, enjoying myself, and utterly unaware of what would happen next.
As we began to consider dessert, a woman named Sue went to her truck to get her cooler. She intended to treat us to something she said she had “whipped up.” I waited for the unveiling. Out came two blocks of homemade ice cream. Wow, her timing was perfect as it was getting hot! Looking back, I think she planned it that way! I remember thinking the ice cream looked relatively harmless, almost dull compared to the super chocolate brownies and other calorie-laden cookies, cakes, and pies before us. Ordinarily, I would never pass on chocolate desserts, but I needed something cool and refreshing that day.
“What flavors?” I pondered.
“This one is Rose, and this one is Lavender,” she said as she quickly slipped a little white plastic-tasting spoon into my hand. “Tell me what you think,” she chirped. I took a small bite of Rose ice cream, and suddenly my attention was captured in a most peculiar way. The ice cream instantly drew me in. Bite after bite, I began to realize I could not stop eating the icy, pale-pink concoction.
Feeling somewhat out of control and not wanting to draw too much attention to myself, I quickly enlisted my friend Marina, who was standing nearby. Marina held the status of an Elder in our group. She was a skilled herbalist, a Reiki master, and a pipe carrier in the Native American tradition. She was my Reiki instructor, and I respected her and valued her opinion. At the end of that day, she gifted me some Sacred Tobacco seeds. I was honored.
“Here. Please, sample this ice cream. You must taste this! What do you feel?” I asked. Personally, at that point I couldn't stop myself from eating it! I began to taste the ice cream, like a serious taste tester. I found it very cool and soothing.
I noticed that Marina was experiencing the same phenomenon. We began discussing how we felt. I realized that when I was eating the Rose ice cream, the rose effect seemed to bypass my stomach and go straight to my heart. I found myself feeling extremely joyful, happy, and calm. That explained why I could not stop eating it!
I remember telling Marina, “This ice cream tastes so Divine; this must be what Angels eat!” We both laughed! With a full mouth, she nodded in agreement, saying, “I think you’re right!” “Oh my God, I said, I really can’t stop eating this ice cream! It makes me feel so happy!” The feeling of pure joy was intense.
The energy and frequency of the Rose in the ice cream had a profound effect on me. It was creamy but not too rich. It had a cooling effect, but it wasn’t too cold. It was refreshing, not too sweet, and the most beautiful shade of Angel pink. I loved that pink! It was a gentle pink. I was mesmerized. At that moment, I could not imagine anything better to eat in the whole world! I had succumbed to the Rose!
Then it happened. Suddenly, I heard two voices whispering into my right ear in unison.
“You’re going to write a book about cooking with roses!” It was a beautiful message, like Angels were whispering to me.
I laughed out loud, but this idea rang so true to me that I immediately announced, without thinking, “I’m going to write a book about cooking with roses!” Now, right about here, there is something you should know. I heard a voice like that the first night I met my husband. That same voice said, “You’re going to marry him!” I laughed out loud at that time, also! Eventually, I married him, so you can imagine that when I heard THE voice, I paid attention!
“That’s a wonderful idea,” my friends said. The news spread like wildfire. Someone said, “Did you hear? Laura’s going to write a book about cooking with roses!” Wow! Instant gratification and validation! I received a high approval rating from my peers! What more could I possibly want? Soon, everyone gathered around the Rose ice cream to see what all the excitement was all about. We continued to munch until the ice cream disappeared. We blamed the warm weather—we had to gobble it before it melted! We thanked Sue as she passed out copies of the recipes. Her dessert had been a huge success!
So, with that direction from on high and a recipe in my hand, I embarked on a journey of discovery and research about cooking with the Rose! I was going to write a book! Looking back, I see that experience and the recipe as a passport, a gateway that was opened to me as a beautiful gift. In a single bite of homemade Rose ice cream, my world changed! I had found a destination and a mission!
Excerpt from Introduction:
The Rose Cookbook – A Treasury of Rose Recipes from Around the World
by Laura Denktash
©2007
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