Weaving biological science into spiritual practice connected me with the sacredness of Life. 

The stage was set when spinal pain and mood instability dogged me after a harsh upbringing. As I entered midlife, my spine problems worsened until they ended my surgical career. Intense mood swings followed, then evolved into powerful visionary states.

The visions assigned a daunting task: merge science and religion. They also shattered my worldview, transforming me from atheist to…something else. Faith in visions was unimaginable before, but now it felt imperative.

Yet as mystical ecstasy faded, I wondered if there’d been a mistake: I seemed an ill-suited for the task. I faltered and gave up for long stretches. Yet always the sense of mission returned until—years later—chance led me to a teaching position at a yoga institute. As I explained human biology while immersed in yoga spirituality, Mindful Biology grew into being. 

Although based on insights I've gathered from many traditions, readings, and teachers, it is most strongly influenced by Raja Yoga, Theravada Buddhism, Quakerism, and various non-dual teachings (especially those of John Prendergast, PhD). All of these traditions helped me connect my love of objective biology with the subjective reality of embodied Life, including its seamless connection with all of humanity, the ecosphere, and the cosmos.

I grew up fascinated by living things but remained a lackluster student until my junior year of high school, when I began to study rather than coast. The following summer, I completed a solo trek in the Sierra Nevada mountains, which fired up a passion for nature. I returned inspired to learn field biology. Four years later, I graduated college with a degree in zoology, with most of my coursework focused on ecology. 

Sadly, by then I'd abandoned my commitment to field work in favor of more technical domains of Life science. I enrolled in a graduate program to study the biophysics of neural signaling. 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, specializing in skin cancer around the eyes. Though I'd lost touch with what most mattered to me, my work felt worthy and rewarding. I'd have enjoyed a long career in the field, but when I was only forty-one, a deteriorating spine made it impossible for me to continue operating. The shock of this loss triggered disabling psychiatric symptoms, which compounded my difficulties.

Following these ruptures, I made several attempts at building a new career.  I explored medical 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. My spiritual intuition received scant encouragement as I grew up, but even so it combined with my love of natural landscapes to help me cope with neglect, bereavement, and abuse.

In my twenties, amidst the emotional pain and mood instability common after formative trauma, I sought psycho-spiritual help. I turned to counseling, 12-step programs, and silent worship in the Quaker tradition—the religion of my ancestors. These resources provided vital support as I completed my biomedical education and began work as a surgeon.

When spinal problems cut my career short, I fell into a suicidal despair that gave way to ecstatic visions. With my conventional sense of reality shattered, I grew obsessed with spiritual philosophies and practices. I intensified my meditation practice and converted to Roman Catholicism.

As my spirituality matured, I expanded my horizons, devoting substantial time to Theravada Buddhism, Raja Yoga, Chinese Medicine & Taoism, non-dual spirituality, and somatic psychotherapy. I also completed the spiritually-oriented trainings listed below. At every stage, I endeavored to dovetail spiritual insights with biological understanding, and Mindful Biology grew into being.

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

Advantages

The privileges afforded by white race, masculine (cis) gender, and upper middle class.

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

High quality schools and six weeks per year at 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 natural landscapes—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.

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.

From then until her death, my mom was frequently hospitalized for depression and received numerous electroconvulsive treatments (ECT).

Around this time, I 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 not long after the divorce. Our stepmother disliked children, lacked empathy, and did not want us in her house.

She 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 the difficulties above—and the fact 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 while drinking and using other drugs several times a week.

In high school, I acted out. Sent often to the principal’s office because of misbehavior, I also was arrested multiple times.