Mindful Biology 

saved me from despair 

by illuminating

the sacredness of Life. 

The stage was set when spine pain and mood problems dogged me after a harsh upbringing. As I entered midlife, 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. My professional life was in ruins, while my financial situation felt dire. I was introverted and insecure but also an over-achiever who craved acclaim and needed money. On top of all that, the antagonism between science and religion frustrated me. I saw them as natural partners, yet they acted like enemies. Naive and lost in delusions of self-importance and self-contempt, I was a poor candidate for merging scientific knowledge with spiritual realization.  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 was born. It is a humble project, neither world-saving nor self-inflating, but it is dear to my heart. I present 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. For much of that tumultuous, transformational trip I walked in mystical ecstasy, though I didn't use those terms at the time. I simply felt connected, inspired and free beyond anything I'd experienced before. I returned to high school determined to study field biology. I applied to college and went on to complete a degree in zoology, with most of my coursework focused on ecology. 

As years passed, I felt seduced by technical domains of Life science and lost my commitment to field work. I enrolled in a biophysics graduate program to study how information is processed by networks of nerve cells. When my lab 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, removing skin cancers near the eyes and reconstructing for healthy function and good appearance. Though isolated from the outdoors, the work felt socially worthy and personally rewarding. It employed a nice combination of helping others, working with living tissue, employing manual skills, and using esthetic judgment. I swiftly 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, I was forced to give up my career. The shock of this loss triggered severe psychiatric symptoms, which compounded my difficulties.

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. My spiritual intuition received scant encouragement, but it helped me cope with neglect, bereavement, and abuse, especially by helping me find solace in natural landscapes. So did an active imagination, which revealed the spaciousness of mind as I spent many hours alone, unwelcome at home.

My senior year of high school was interrupted by an arrest and events that culminated in my moving from LA to Berkeley, where I lived with my girlfriend and her family. Landing in a safe, loving environment helped me fortify my determination to study biology. It also graced me with faith in Life's possibilities.

Within a few years, sadly, I found myself feeling angry 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 my beloved maternal grandfather died, I found myself flooded by emotional pain and self-loathing. I began planning suicide. Bewildered and scared, I walked into the Student Health office and was diagnosed with my first major depression. I began psychotherapy. 

Once I felt a little more solid, a therapist convinced me to go to medical school, where it became obvious I needed to address my substance abuse issues. I turned to 12-step programs for help, but their religious language was hard to accept after my atheist upbringing and scientific training. 

Chance landed me in a New York internship very near a Friends Meeting House, and I began attending weekly meetings for worship. Quakerism appealed to me with its freedom from dogma and hierarchy, plus its commitment to social justice. It was also the religion of my maternal ancestors, which felt soothing. I was able to embrace 12 step work and complete my clinical education.

A half-dozen years later, spine problems cut my career short. Once again I spiraled into suicidal despair. I requested hospitalization for my own protection. The dismal atmosphere of the urban psychiatric unit fueled determination to get out and work through my problems. I left the hospital awash in zeal that escalated until I experienced a series of mind-blowing spiritual 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 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 insights with biological understanding.

At first my ego hoped to build status in the spiritual domain but was  repeatedly thwarted. Dreams of reaching large audiences were undercut by my introversion, chronic pain, insecurity and disabilities. Mindful Biology thus remained small-scale, yet it saved me despite its limited scope, or perhaps because of it. Teaching contemplative practices with biological grounding gifted me with many soulful benefits, as outlined on the homepage. 

With humility and awe, I offer Mindful Biology to others, especially those who seek meaning in the midst of pain, fear, loss, shame and confusion.

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

Every childhood brings advantages and difficulties. For me, the latter were more severe than typical for people of my demographic (white, male, upper middle class), while the former provided refuge, guidance and purpose. By confronting me with difficulties and steering me toward healthy and unhealthy coping strategies that I later built upon and worked to overcome, this upbringing set the stage for 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 (ECT).

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. 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.

Advantages

The privileges afforded by white race, masculine (cis) gender, and relative affluence.

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.