I found love, awe, and wholeness by weaving biological science into spiritual practice. 

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 would have been untenable before, but now it felt imperative.

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

A biological approach to spiritual practice helped me embrace difficulties (past, present, and potential) with ease and heart. It feels a blessing to have it as a resource as I engage the challenges and opportunities of aging, and it's a joy to see it help others. The sense of calling remains. 

I grew up fascinated by living things but remained a lackluster student until my junior year of high school, when I began to take studying more seriously. The following summer, I completed a solo trek in the Sierra Nevada mountains and returned enthralled by nature. I felt inspired to attend college and study nature. Four years later, I graduated with a degree in zoology, with most of my coursework focused on ecology. 

Sadly, by then I'd lost sight of my passion for the outdoors. I enrolled in a graduate program to study biophysics and neuroscience. When my neurophysiology experiments proved isolating and frustrating, I entered medical school and—eventually—became a surgeon.

After finishing clinical training, 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 a deteriorating spine made it impossible for me to continue operating when I was only forty-one. The shock of this loss triggered disabling psychiatric symptoms, which compounded my difficulties.

Following these ruptures, I pursued coursework in medical information technology, but mental and bodily challenges prevented me from completing the doctoral program. I then spent two years lecturing about environmental health, but infirmities again tripped me up. Some years later, I learned medical acupuncture and opened a practice. The work felt fulfilling, but my health worsened under the stress of running a business and—after ending up in intensive care—I admitted defeat.

These and related experiences left me discouraged, even despairing. Relief came when a wise psychiatrist advised me to double down on spiritual development. Over time, that 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, I’ve experienced mystical flowerings since early childhood, especially in nature. This spiritual intuition received scant encouragement, but it helped me cope with an upbringing beset by neglect, bereavement, and abuse.

In my twenties, grappling with the emotional pain and mood instability that are 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 experienced 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 sought support in additional traditions, including Theravada Buddhism, Raja Yoga, Chinese Medicine and Taoism, non-dual spirituality, and somatic psychotherapy. I also completed several spiritually-oriented trainings.

Spiritual insights interwove with my scientific knowledge as 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

My upbringing was more traumatic than average for youths of similar demographics (white, male, upper middle class, heterosexual, cisgender). Its level of neglect, loss, and abuse shaped me into someone who needed a program like Mindful Biology to feel at home in Life.

Difficulties from my childhood are listed below, followed by the advantages that helped me do better than I might have in less privileged circumstances. 

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 a group sex party my father insisted she attend, 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 around the same time.

I was a shy, anxious kid with ADHD and difficulty recognizing faces (a condition called prosopagnosia). 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.

Alcohol and other substances were used addictively by everyone in our household, including myself.

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.

Advantages

The privileges afforded by my race, gender, and socioeconomic class.

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

High quality schools and six weeks per year at summer camp.

Lots of freedom and autonomy.

Exposure to diverse viewpoints, lifestyles, and ethnicities.

A professor father who modeled good intellectual habits.

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.

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