WillSpirit!


∞ Where Mental Skills Heal Mental Ills ∞

A former physician writes about mental health and recovery using insights from life, science, and spiritual practice.








  • Red_Exclamation_DotDisclaimer
    • Dear Visitors:
      Although I trained and practiced as a physician, my background does not include formal instruction in psychiatry beyond basic medical education. This journal presents ideas about treatment philosophy, but must not be considered therapeutic advice. Abrupt changes in one's psychiatric medications can trigger profound cognitive, emotional, and physical symptoms, including suicidal thoughts and actions. Consequently, pharmaceutical agents should not be increased or decreased without supervision by a mental health clinician.

    • ON THE OTHER HAND, your brain belongs to you, and your opinion counts. If you decide that changing your medication regimen will serve your best interest, then I believe your providers have an obligation to help you try to achieve your goals. I want everyone to be educated about their options, and do what will be most helpful for themselves. No one should feel pushed around by dogmatic and/or limited viewpoints, whether those of psychiatrists, anti-psychiatry advocates, or myself.


The Good Shepherd

-The skeleton speaks in signs-
-From within my flesh-
-Using gestures of distressed bone-
-Like runes of pain complaining-
-Entering into evidence-
-Five decades of injury-
-All sensible limits exceeded-
-Every postural ethic ignored-
-Until now the bill has come due-
-And arthritis shows up as life’s invoice-
-A tally of abuse-

-But the pain is not without tenderness-
-It demands attention but does so intimately-
-Like a handwritten note-
-Announcing a dear friend’s illness-
-Or a telephone on the bedside table-
-Or an excited dog scratching bare legs-
-Insistent but without malice-

-My body is my old hound-
-Swaybacked and weary-
-Still faithful and offering love-

-And so I bed it with gentleness-
-Next to my heart-
-That other damaged pet-
-With its optimistic throb-
-Its wounds nearly all healed-
-Into scars that remain visible as dense tracery-
-But without their former precise meaning-
-As if lines on an outdated map-

-I stable body and heart together-
-And pretend-
-That this mind-
-This personality-
-Isn’t just another beast of burden-
-Chafing against its self-imposed yoke-
-Nurturing dreams of relief-

-But when the moon rises-
-It shines on three exhausted creatures-
-Resting as one-
-Under the watchful, peaceful eye-
-Of silent awareness
-Inevitable but resisted-
-Shepherd of so many selves-

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Life In Balance

Perpetual Sorrow:
From conception onward
Entropic armies destroy
Delicate structures, aging, mutating
Disease, death, decay
Infants doomed to expire
Mothers abandoned to grief

Eternal Joy:
Renewal a living rejoinder
Creative mystery manufactures
Intricate forms, adapting, evolving
Fertilization, gestation, emergence
In birth a yearning to love
In pregnancy the genius of hope

Life Balanced Between

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Winged Witness

Tomales Bay churns
windswept washboard choppy
rare whitecaps loft spray downwind
threadbare mist glides silent over gray water

cold we paddle for shelter
tuck behind curve of gravel spit
comma stroke dangling west off Hog Island
while on eastern shore rotund seals sleep side-by-side

nearby an elder pelican
plump and robust like a boar
holds lanceolate beak vertical and severe
and great gray wings folded back into epaulets

with splash turmoil fumble
we beach rocking creaking canoe
our clumsy thick life vests the color of fat
awkward wading dragging upslope stagger exhausted

the grave patriarch paddles
in ponderous feathered departing
our disinterested silent witness glides away
with glacial pace and a dismissive shake of his head

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Vital Signs


My soles were naked and painful tender
As I ascended a steep animal trail
Above the meditation center,
Stepping on spiny-edged leaves fallen from live oaks.

Warm crumbling dirt shifted underfoot.

I discovered
The chalk-white skull of a deer
Partially buried beneath dry litter.

I picked up the hallowed shell.

I inspected the paper-thin bones scrolled deep in the snout.
I sighted down skeletal tunnels under the absent eyes.
I gently rattled the wave-shaped herbivore teeth,
Sharp-edged and unworn.

Not long after,
In silence with the rest of the group,
I meditated with the relic cradled near my heart,
As if it were the living head of an immature buck
Warming my fingers with his feral moist breath,
Leaning his muscular neck against my ribs.

A sculpture of calcium both organic and miraculous
No longer needed by its creator:
A being gestated same as me.
Who began, as did I,
Deep in the pelvis of a warm throbbing
Mother
Who loved him even before he staggered from her womb
Coated in blood and mucus,
Wild with unlikely promise.

All animals come naked into this world,
And we all leave behind our signature bones.

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An Insanity of Saints

Why make apologies
For stepping off all calculated paths
In an off-kilter world?

The social contract may appear
Reasonable but to act
Sensible all the
Time makes no sense
At all.

After all,
Love is but a dance
Of fools,
Oblivious to grief,
Courting affection
All the time
Dogged by death.

As life closes its heavy lids,
What saint or lover regrets
At all
Her betrayal of sanity?

In this crucible of confusion
And conformity,
The only sane response is mad
Happiness: foolish fixation
Of all attention
On this day
And no other.

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To the Silent Light of the Broken Dawn

I am a vine that breaks
But lives.
I need repair.

Every day or two:
A new attitude blossoms,
Purpose sprouts anew,
And proud flesh closes
Its recent wounds
And climbs
Back up the trellis
Where it holds out my handful of petals:
That intrepid heart, that foolish hope,
That doubtful prayer, that belated smile.

All my life is
Reawakening
To the silent light of the broken dawn.

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Thought Is Not Truth

An essay in David Bohm’s Wholeness and the Implicate Order, has me rethinking my attitude toward thought. The piece is entitled “Reality and Knowledge Considered as Process.” As with much of Bohm’s work, the concepts challenge the mind. But although he sometimes loses me, I trust his interpretation, as he was a highly regarded physicist who pondered the philosophical implications of quantum theory. Since an earlier essay looked at one quantum principle in spiritual terms, it makes sense to explore Bohm’s discussion; it pursues similar goals through more sophisticated means.

Bohm insists that thought and the world at large are not two separate realms. There is no thinking that doesn’t arise from prior contact with reality, and our experience of reality is never completely divorced from thought. Furthermore, thought is just as much a product of the cosmos as anything else. It emerges in a flowing stream along with Creation itself. Thought is no different, in this sense, from mountains, clouds, sunlight, electricity, or anything else we might think about.

Bohm compares thought to poetry. There will never be an ultimate poem that will make all future poetry unnecessary. Similarly, there will never be a final theory about reality that will obviate the need for more theorizing. Each view of the Cosmos is a work of art, not an objective truth. Some models of the world work better in a predictive sense, but all are susceptible to ongoing change and refinement. All are subjective and conditioned by prior prejudice. Bohm considers it a mistake to equate concepts with reality-as-it-actually-exists.

Consider gravity. According to Newton, matter exerts an invisible force on other matter. A planet has a large mass and through action-at-a-distance pulls strongly on objects nearby. Hence, we don’t float off into space. Newton’s laws permit one to calculate orbits and trajectories. They work in a predictive sense, but that doesn’t mean gravitation acts through force fields like Newton thought. Einstein’s theory of General Relativity describes the same reality in terms of distortion to the fabric of space-time. Planets orbit stars because stars warp the matrix through which planets travel. There is no force that extends from the sun to the earth; there is merely a kind of well that traps the earth in orbit around the sun. Relativity theory is also predictive of orbits and trajectories. Yet although its scope is more comprehensive than Newtonian mechanics, it cannot be said to be more ‘correct;’ it is merely more broadly applicable.

Newton and Einstein devised very different descriptions of gravity and reality. Each created a highly sophisticated line of thought. But neither can be said to have described ultimate Truth. Theories work in a utilitarian fashion but never pin down reality in any literal sense.

Physicists have long sought a ‘Theory of Everything’ that would succinctly describe the universe in mathematical terms. All manifestation would then be clarified as unfolding according to fundamental equations. Stephen Hawking appears to have abandoned this quest, as he now talks of ‘Model-Dependent Realism,’ wherein there would not be a single theory but rather a system of overlapping models. Each formulation would work within a defined domain, but none could be said to capture the totality. Einstein’s equations work when calculating the dynamics of light and matter on cosmic scales. Quantum mechanics works for subatomic particles. The hope (not yet realized) would be to find a way to make the two descriptions fit together when conditions overlap, as during the formation of the universe. But Hawking appears to have abandoned the search for a single set of equations that could be applied in all situations.

Bohm would probably welcome this concession by Hawking. He would insist that thought is not capable of describing totality, mainly because thought is part of totality itself. There is no separate reality, outside the mind, that the mind can figure out. There is only a single cosmos that includes the mind and everything the mind comprehends. We do not view reality from outside, we watch it from within. We can describe what we see, but we cannot describe the totality because we do not exist outside of it. We can’t get a view on the cosmos similar to the Apollo photographs of planet Earth. Just as we cannot see the whole earth from its surface, and so our view of it remains limited, we cannot see the whole universe. Our concepts are necessarily restricted and incomplete.

Furthermore, thought and cosmos are ever changing, so there can be no final description of anything. What fits today’s world may not fit tomorrow’s. Tribal societies on the North American plains had no need of a theory of digital computation, anymore than we have need of one guiding nomadic encampment in pursuit of herds of bison. You could argue that both theories are latent in the cosmos, but what does a theory of logic gates describe if there are no computers? How consequential is knowledge of migratory patterns if the few remaining buffalo live in fenced enclosures? Each formulation is relevant to a particular time and place, and useless outside of it.

For a hunter-gatherer society, a view of the environment that depended on vital spirits would be competent to the situation. It would help the hunter follow his prey; it would help the gatherer predict where her favored plants could be found. It would be a valid model under the circumstances. For some people, a religion built around a single, caring deity works well. It provides meaning, guidance, and feelings of safety. For others, life is better served by insisting that no such God exists. To them, the universe feels more comfortable if it is believed rational and predictable, without any quirky intrusion by non-material influences. Each person lives by a model that works for his or her given temperament. But none can claim ultimate truth, because there is no such thing.

This is a very difficult position to adhere to, precisely because it lacks solidity. To quit conflating thought with truth means to recognize every insight as provisional, including this one. Any claim to objective understanding, permanent and free of contamination by prior prejudice, is false. But the mind resists admitting its own limits, and clings to beliefs even when it knows better.

Bohm provides an alternate (and more challenging) path to the conclusion that ended my earlier post: we should hold our views lightly. I’m not sure this essay does his argument justice, but I think he would have agreed with the advice.

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