My dad wrote this op-ed piece on CNN.com in response to the tragic death of the orca whale trainer this past week.
I especially like the quote by the late Jacques Cousteau:
"There is about as much educational benefit to be gained in studying dolphins in captivity as there would be studying mankind by only observing prisoners held in solitary confinement."
I watched The Cove last night, which I think everyone should see. There is an unbelievable amount of horror and violence occurring, which we unknowingly support by our consumption of seafood and our marvel of beautiful animals at zoos and aquariums.
I couldn’t agree more when my dad writes:
“The best, most compassionate way for us protect, learn about and appreciate the beauty of wild animals is to watch them from a distance, but never, ever touch. We need to leave them alone -- in the wild -- and stop interfering in their lives.”
This all comes back again to the fundamental yogic principle of ahimsa, or non-violence.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Important questions in leaving the good life
My class this week was on Bioethics – a week-long class that we are all required to take before graduating from medical school. I learned many things, and one of the most important being this: make a living will.
The majority of people in the United States die in health care facilities, and many of these deaths are long, drawn-out, painful, expensive, and emotionally draining for all involved.
Advances in medical technology have made it more and more difficult for people to die. Patients are kept alive indefinitely, with millions living in nursing homes on feeding tubes and thousands kept alive in a permanent vegetative state.
We talked about many tragic cases when family members have to make incredibly difficult decisions regarding the care of their loved one. Our discussions were mainly focused around helping others make these decisions, but it’s important to think about for ourselves as well. What would I want if I were in a persistent vegetative state? How long would I want to be kept alive? Would I want a feeding tube? A ventilator? CPR? What would I want one with my organs and my body?
These are really hard questions.
As Caitlin and I were walking to class yesterday, we talked about Scott Nearing’s death. His wife, Helen, writes about in her book Loving and Leaving the Good Life and in this essay.
In an interview in his late 90’s, Scott Nearing said, “I look forward to the possibility of living until I'm 99… if I can be of service, I would like to go on living.”
At age 98 he said, "Well, at least I can still split and carry in the wood."
At the dinner table a few weeks before turning 100 he said, “I think I won't eat anymore.”
Helen said she responded with, “Alright… I understand. I think I would do that too. Animals know when to stop. They go off in a corner and leave off food.”
Helen made him juices. Scott became weak and thin. After a few weeks, he said, “I think I'll go on water. Nothing more.”
He and Helen talked every day as he became weak and bed-ridden. Helen describes the morning of his death:
“In the morning of August 24, 1983, two weeks after his 100th birthday, when it seemed he was slipping away, I sat beside him on his bed. We were quiet together; no interruptions, no doctors or hospitals. I said, ‘It's alright, Scott. Go right along. You've lived a good life and are finished with things here. Go on and up - up into the light. We love you and let you go. It's alright.’”
I find his dying to be a beautiful, natural, painless, peaceful, loving, and spiritual act. He had given everything he could and was ready.
The majority of people in the United States die in health care facilities, and many of these deaths are long, drawn-out, painful, expensive, and emotionally draining for all involved.
Advances in medical technology have made it more and more difficult for people to die. Patients are kept alive indefinitely, with millions living in nursing homes on feeding tubes and thousands kept alive in a permanent vegetative state.
We talked about many tragic cases when family members have to make incredibly difficult decisions regarding the care of their loved one. Our discussions were mainly focused around helping others make these decisions, but it’s important to think about for ourselves as well. What would I want if I were in a persistent vegetative state? How long would I want to be kept alive? Would I want a feeding tube? A ventilator? CPR? What would I want one with my organs and my body?
These are really hard questions.
As Caitlin and I were walking to class yesterday, we talked about Scott Nearing’s death. His wife, Helen, writes about in her book Loving and Leaving the Good Life and in this essay.
In an interview in his late 90’s, Scott Nearing said, “I look forward to the possibility of living until I'm 99… if I can be of service, I would like to go on living.”
At age 98 he said, "Well, at least I can still split and carry in the wood."
At the dinner table a few weeks before turning 100 he said, “I think I won't eat anymore.”
Helen said she responded with, “Alright… I understand. I think I would do that too. Animals know when to stop. They go off in a corner and leave off food.”
Helen made him juices. Scott became weak and thin. After a few weeks, he said, “I think I'll go on water. Nothing more.”
He and Helen talked every day as he became weak and bed-ridden. Helen describes the morning of his death:
“In the morning of August 24, 1983, two weeks after his 100th birthday, when it seemed he was slipping away, I sat beside him on his bed. We were quiet together; no interruptions, no doctors or hospitals. I said, ‘It's alright, Scott. Go right along. You've lived a good life and are finished with things here. Go on and up - up into the light. We love you and let you go. It's alright.’”
I find his dying to be a beautiful, natural, painless, peaceful, loving, and spiritual act. He had given everything he could and was ready.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Meditation and the brain
This study just came out showing that Zen meditators had thicker areas of the brain associated with pain sensitivity (the anterior cingulate) when compared with non-meditators.
One of the researchers explained: “The often painful posture associated with Zen meditation may lead to thicker cortex and lower pain sensitivity.”
He suggests that it’s the posture that may lead to this brain change.
I’m wondering what vigorous exercise does to this part of the brain, and especially what the combination of meditation with exercise (i.e. Ashtanga yoga) might have on the brain. Maybe having a certain amount of regular voluntary pain increases our threshold, enabling us to withstand higher levels (back to the hormesis idea).
One of the researchers explained: “The often painful posture associated with Zen meditation may lead to thicker cortex and lower pain sensitivity.”
He suggests that it’s the posture that may lead to this brain change.
I’m wondering what vigorous exercise does to this part of the brain, and especially what the combination of meditation with exercise (i.e. Ashtanga yoga) might have on the brain. Maybe having a certain amount of regular voluntary pain increases our threshold, enabling us to withstand higher levels (back to the hormesis idea).
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Passionately curious
I love this idea:
But how do we cultivate passionate curiosity (in ourselves, our patients, our students)?
I’ve been in a bit of curiosity lull, which I am attributing to the busyness of being back in school (lectures and small group discussions all day, assignments, research work and meetings, emails to catch up on, etc)...
It’s hard to feel curious when my time is cluttered, my mind scattered, and I am exhausted.
“I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.”
~Albert Einstein
~Albert Einstein
But how do we cultivate passionate curiosity (in ourselves, our patients, our students)?
I’ve been in a bit of curiosity lull, which I am attributing to the busyness of being back in school (lectures and small group discussions all day, assignments, research work and meetings, emails to catch up on, etc)...
It’s hard to feel curious when my time is cluttered, my mind scattered, and I am exhausted.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Yoga for high blood pressure
I was very excited to meet a researcher at Penn who did this study on yoga for high blood pressure.
They randomized patients (n=57) with early stages of high blood pressure to 12 weeks of Iyengar yoga or a control group consisting of standard dietary modifications.
In the group that made dietary changes, blood pressure significantly decreased in the first 6 weeks but was not sustained at 12 weeks. In the Iyengar yoga group, systolic blood pressure significantly decreased at 12 weeks, indicating a more sustainable and long-term benefit.
This preliminary study enabled them to get NIH funding for a larger, long-term study that is currently underway. They are looking at both dietary changes and yoga for hypertension (along with many other biomarkers and measures)…exciting!
They randomized patients (n=57) with early stages of high blood pressure to 12 weeks of Iyengar yoga or a control group consisting of standard dietary modifications.
In the group that made dietary changes, blood pressure significantly decreased in the first 6 weeks but was not sustained at 12 weeks. In the Iyengar yoga group, systolic blood pressure significantly decreased at 12 weeks, indicating a more sustainable and long-term benefit.
This preliminary study enabled them to get NIH funding for a larger, long-term study that is currently underway. They are looking at both dietary changes and yoga for hypertension (along with many other biomarkers and measures)…exciting!
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Fiber in food and in life: Lessons from the Nearings
“Live hard not soft; eat hard not soft; seek fiber in foods and in life.”
~Scott and Helen Nearing
Scott and Helen Nearing – an inspiring couple!
In the early 1930’s during the Great Depression, the Nearings moved from New York City to rural Vermont in order to practice a new and sustainable way of living.
They read widely. They were experimenters. They valued self-discipline, exercise, a good diet, frugality, environmental consciousness, civic contribution, and social justice.
They learned to grow their own food (challenging in New England winters). They did not want to be dependent on money, thus learned how to provide most of their food needs (they had a year-round solar greenhouse). They tapped maple trees for sugar. They gardened organically. They built their own stone houses and buildings.
They thought cooking should be simple, that it should take less time to prepare than to eat. They made daily “horse chow” for breakfast (raw oats, raisins, lemon juice, and some vegetable oil), and salad and potatoes for lunch and dinner. They did juice fasts every Sunday.
They believed in dividing each day into three parts:
Bread labor: To meet basic needs of food, shelter, clothing, etc.
Civic work: To do something of value for the community.
Professional pursuits/recreation: To learn, read, write, pursue interests.
"Find some form of work - creative energy - into which you can concentrate your being; into which you can go with your whole heart."
~Scott Nearing
Saturday, February 20, 2010
An art and a science
I’m reading Yoga: A Gem for Women, and I love how Geeta Iyengar describes yoga as both an art and a science (similar to the practice of medicine). She writes:
Is Yoga an Art?
Living is an art. Yoga enhances the quality of one’s life. Hence it is an art. It lifts up one’s thoughts and enables one to face life’s difficult situations happily and with equanimity; it teaches one to strive to achieve a goal in life; to cultivate friendliness, concentration, piety, contentment, joy, and to discard what is non-essential; to cultivate good habits and to lead a righteous life. Yoga is disciplined action to achieve and attain final emancipation.
Is Yoga a Science?
The science of Yoga consists of acquiring knowledge through observation and experiment. It is a science which deals with the body and the mind, whereby the rhythm of the mind is conquered by controlling the body. Through the practice of Yoga the health and strength of the body and the mind are acquired. Only when a state of equilibrium is reached between the body and the mind, does one become fit for Self-realization. The science of Yoga teaches one to attain this harmony in a skillful and systematic way.
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