Mindful Biology weaves together Life science and contemplative spirituality. It helps me make peace with the effects of childhood trauma, midlife disability, and—more recently—ordinary aging. I've offered its insights and practices publicly since 2009. Along the way, I've seen it support spiritual explorations of all sorts, especially in people who value scientific evidence while honoring beauty, paradox, and mystery. 

My own course was set when spine pain and mood problems dogged me after a punishing upbringing. As I turned forty, the spinal issues worsened until they ended my surgical career. Intense mood swings followed, then evolved into powerful visionary states. Mystical realization shattered my worldview, transforming me from atheist to…something else. 

The visions assigned a daunting task: merge science and religion. This mission felt imperative, like the fate of the world depended on my success. Yet as mystical ecstasy faded, I felt overwhelmed. How could I tackle something so grandiose? I'd been an over-achiever during biomedical training, but with my professional life in ruins, and after two psychiatric hospitalizations, I felt crippled by doubt. Plus, my energies were consumed by unwanted early retirement, financial worries, chronic pain, intractable fatigue, and related problems. 

Yet always the sense of mission returned until—years later—chance gave me opportunities to teach biology in spiritual settings. Mindful Biology grew into being as the mission fulfilled itself despite my doubts. Though far from world-saving, it helped me heal my psyche and embrace my circumstances, while also proving of value to others. I offer it with admiration and gratitude for all of Life, including the parts that hurt.

I grew up fascinated by living things but remained a lackluster student until I neared the end of high school. The summer before my senior year, I completed a solo trek of the John Muir Trail. I returned to LA determined to build a career in field biology. I applied to college and eventually completed a degree in zoology, with most of my coursework focused on ecology. 

As years passed, I abandoned my commitment to field work and gravitated to more technical domains of Life science. I enrolled in a biophysics graduate program to study information processing in networks of nerve cells. When my research proved isolating and frustrating, I entered medical training and—a decade later—exited as a surgeon.

I joined a large HMO where I performed oculofacial surgery, treating skin cancers near the eyes, plus other peri-ocular problems. Though isolated from the outdoors, the work employed a nice combination of service, connection with living tissue, manual dexterity, and esthetic judgment. I grew more confident and capable than I'd ever felt before. But I also started feeling more neck pain while performing surgery, which paralleled worsening pathology revealed by serial MR scans. The ergonomic stress of operating long hours was aggravating old injuries, which were partly due to child abuse. At age forty-one, intractable neck pain forced me to quit performing surgery. The shock of this loss triggered severe psychiatric symptoms, which compounded the difficulties of that time of crisis.

Following these ruptures, I made several attempts at building a new career.  I explored biomedical information technology, secondary education, environmental health, and medical acupuncture. In every case, my health worsened under occupational stress until—after an internal hemorrhage landed me in intensive care—I finally accepted that conventional employment was no longer possible.

Experiences like these left me discouraged, even despairing. Relief came when a wise psychiatrist advised me to double down on spiritual growth. Over time, that salvational advice led to Mindful Biology.

biomedical education

BA, Department of Zoology, University of California, Berkeley

MA, Department of Biophysics, University of California, Berkeley

MD, School of Medicine, University of California, San Francisco

Internal Medicine Internship, New York Medical College

Ophthalmology Residency, University of California, San Francisco

Ocular Oncology Fellowship, University of California, San Francisco

Ocular Plastic & Reconstructive Surgery Fellowship, University of California, San Francisco

Medical Informatics graduate work (no degree), University of California, San Francisco

Though raised an atheist, since early childhood I've experienced mystical flowerings, especially in nature. As I grew up, my spiritual intuition received scant encouragement, but it helped me cope with neglect, bereavement, and abuse. So did an active imagination, which revealed the spaciousness of mind as I spent many hours alone, unwelcome at home. 

Then, at age sixteen, I completed a solo trek of the John Muir Trail. I spent much of that tumultuous trip in mystical ecstasy, though I didn't use those words at the time. I simply felt connected, inspired, and free beyond anything I'd experienced before. I came home with newfound confidence and promptly fell in love.

Later that autumn, my girlfriend and I were arrested for marijuana possession. A series of consequences culminated in us moving from LA to Berkeley to live with her father. Landing in a safe, loving environment helped me fortify my determination to study biology. It also graced me with faith in Life's possibilities.

But a few years later, sadly, I found myself feeling rageful for reasons I couldn't name. I left the safe harbor of loving support to live on my own. This unhappy choice worsened my mood instability and substance dependence, which are common sequelae of formative trauma. When I began planning suicide, I sought help and started psychotherapy. After I stabilized, a therapist convinced me to go to medical school.

Clinical responsibilities made it imperative that I quit using drugs and alcohol. I turned to 12-step programs for help but found their religious language hard to accept after my atheist upbringing and scientific training. Chance landed me in an internship very near a Friends Meeting House in New York. Curious, I began attending weekly meetings for worship. I felt aligned with Quakerism, with its commitment to social justice and opposition to violence, dogma, and hierarchy. Because it was the religion of my maternal ancestors, it also felt soothing. Finding a spiritual home enabled me to accept 12-step religious language, achieve sobriety, and complete my clinical education.

When spine problems cut my career short, I again spiraled into suicidal despair. I requested hospitalization for my own protection. Before long, the dismal urban psychiatric ward spurred me to get out and work things through on my own. I left the hospital awash in zeal that escalated until I experienced mind-blowing religious visions. They lasted only a few days but left me in a state of mystical ecstasy that endured for months. 

With my conventional sense of reality shattered, I grew obsessed with spiritual philosophies and practices. I read widesly, meditated intensively, and converted to Roman Catholicism. I attended mass twice a week and went to both Quaker meetings and Catholic services every Sunday. I spent time on silent retreats at both Jesuit and Quaker facilities. 

As I matured psychologically and spiritually, I expanded my horizons, devoting years to Theravada Buddhism, Raja Yoga, Chinese Medicine & Taoism, non-dual spirituality, and somatic psychotherapy. I also completed spiritually-oriented trainings, listed below. At every stage, I endeavored to dovetail contemplative practice with biological understanding.

At first my ego hoped to build worldly success in the spiritual domain. Painfully but crucially, that hope was thwarted. Dreams of reaching large audiences were undercut by chronic pain, fatigue, and psychiatric vulnerability. Mindful Biology remained small for these reasons, and also because a spirituality based on Life science appeals to a select group. The limited scope forced me to focus on heart and soul rather than status and finances. As I grew into a better version of myself, Mindful Biology grew both simpler and more profound.

With gratitude, humility, and awe, I offer insights and practices on this site and via in-person programs, with the cost always kept to a minimum and free of charge whenever possible.

spiritually-oriented training programs

Medical Acupuncture Training: Helms Medical Institute, Berkeley CA

Yoga Teacher Training: Niroga Institute, Oakland CA

Spiritual Direction Training: Interfaith Chaplaincy Institute, Berkeley CA

Hospice Volunteer Training: Zen Caregiving Project, San Francisco CA

Most childhoods bring a mix of advantages and difficulties. For me, the latter were more severe than typical for people of my demographic (white, male, cisgender, upper middle class), while the former provided refuge, guidance and purpose. By steering me toward healthy or unhealthy coping strategies that I later built upon or worked to overcome, my upbringing steered me toward Mindful Biology.

Difficulties

My mother became depressed around the time of my birth, partly because my father disliked family life and did not want a second child.

When I was 3, she was assaulted during one of the group sex parties my father enjoyed, which deepened her depression.

My parents divorced when I was 4.

Thereafter, my mom was frequently hospitalized for depression and electroconvulsive treatments.

I soon contracted pneumonia and spent weeks in a hospital, alone under an oxygen tent.

When I was 5, my mother moved my older sister and me to the city where her parents lived, beginning annual relocations that continued until I left home at age 16.

My mother died of suicide when I was 6.

My father relocated me and my sister to live with him and the woman he’d married soon after the divorce, who disliked children, lacked empathy, and did not want us in her house.

Our stepmother abused us in cold, calculated ways. In my case, this included strangulation (contributing to later spine problems), food deprivation, and other forms of assault, humiliation, and neglect.

My sister suffered a psychotic break at age 17. Though I was only 11, it fell to me to try to manage her behavior and keep her safe.

After my sister graduated high school, my father and stepmother hosted group sex parties in our home, and my stepmother sexualized her abuse of me.

I was a shy, anxious kid with ADHD, mild autism, and difficulty recognizing faces. Confused and uncomfortable around peers, I formed few friendships. 

Because of these challenges—and because my stepmother often banned me from her house—I spent much of my boyhood alone.

My father, stepmother, and sister all used alcohol and other substances addictively.

By age 14, I was smoking marijuana daily, and soon after I also began drinking and using other drugs several times a week.

In high school, I acted out and became a frequent visitor to the vice principal’s office for discipline. Before long, I was also getting arrested on a regular basis. 

Advantages

The privileges afforded by white race, moderate good looks, masculine (cis) gender, and an upper middle class neighborhood, which included proximity to beaches and coastal hills.

Regular stints in safer and more supportive settings than my family home.

High quality schools and six weeks per year at a resource-rich summer camp.

Abundant unsupervised time and the freedom to do whatever I wanted outside the home.

Exposure to diverse viewpoints, lifestyles, and ethnicities.

A professor father who demonstrated the value of education. 

Witnessing the effects of familial substance abuse and poorly treated mental health issues, which helped me recognize and address my own problems in adulthood.

Easy access to California's mountains, deserts, forests, and shorelines—places of solace and spiritual meaning for me.

An early fascination with biology and the wonder of Life.

Completing a trek of the John Muir Trail as I neared the end of high school.