One question in particular made me quite contemplative.

I’m paraphrasing here, but he asked what song I would want played at my funeral. Having thought I might bite the big one on more than one occasion in my life, seriously, I had actually thought about this question before. I’ve never feared death and hope when that day comes knocking, you’ll remember this song and hum the tune (or sing at the top of your lungs) to celebrate life and my next fantastic journey.

In case you’re not familiar with the song I named for Tony (one of them, anyway), I thought I’d post the lyrics along side a You Tube video for weekend chillaxing.

The first time I really listened to the lyrics, I swear the Earth stopped spinning, for just a microsecond.

This sums it up, baby cakes. Thank you everyone for your time, thoughtful comments, and attention while I basked in Trottersville this week. And, thank you Mr. Single, for just being you. Have a magnificent weekend!

Watch the video via You Tube (click here if you’re viewing via RSS). The video is 5 min. 46 sec. in length and is supposedly the first network appearance of the Indigo Girls back in 1989. Their performance revs up right at the beginning. I love their conviction.

“Closer To Fine”

Songwriters: Keith Hunter & Emily Ann Saliers

I’m trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
The best thing you’ve ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously, it’s only life after all
Well darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable
And lightness has a call that’s hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it, I’m crawling on your shore.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

I went to see the doctor of philosophy
With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee
He never did marry or see a B-grade movie
He graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paper
And I was free.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as I’d been the night before
I went in seeking clarity.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

We go to the bible, we go through the workout
We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

Have a beautiful weekend, everyone! Keep spreading the love! ~xo

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Warning: this post is longer than my usual ditties. The articles in my Your Body is a Fortress series are meant to be more meaty with heft and breadth. So, come back when you have more time if you’d like to learn more about your beautiful body electric.

I enjoy reading research results that support or explain something I intuitively know to be true.

I generally don’t need research results to convince me of things, but I love it when I see a study about something that makes me think, “Ah-ha! That’s why when I do this I feel that!” Yes! Especially research about the impact on our bodies of what we eat, do, or think.

It was more fun when it was ME doing the researching, but since I can’t to that anymore, reading the current research keeps me up to date. As I eluded to above, one of my favorite moments in scientific discovery unfolds when I learn why something I feel or intuitively know to be true can be demonstrated in a scientific experiment.

For example, if I eat too much fat (potato chips, ice cream, etc.) I often feel kind of gross for awhile. It tastes good and is fun every now and then, but to learn WHY ingesting fat has that effect was so interesting. It’s really quite simple, it’s because fat takes much longer to digest than protein or carbohydrate, and is also why it produces that prolonged feeling of satiety. Unsaturated fats in moderation are a GOOD thing, though, so don’t give them up altogether. I could go even deeper into the molecular structure and our physiology to describe why it takes much longer to digest fat, but I’ll spare you the details so I can get to the point of this post.

On the subject of eating, back when I used to be an athlete (before Ms. MS took over shop) I trained a lot and I could eat a lot. I had to eat a lot to fuel my body. I’d often workout before work, join a Master’s swim group at lunch, and then train again after work every day and on weekends, too, with the occasional recovery day.

And, you know what? Working out made me feel good. It helped me combat depression, it helped me get though a painful divorce (is there any other kind?). And, I often joked around with my clients that I worked out to prepare for old age. Seriously, I’d say, “Yup, just another day of training for old age.”

I’d usually get a few chuckles.

For me, it wasn’t about living to be 110, it was about staying independent and mobile as long as possible.

So, fancy me doing some reading recently at the online Public Library of Science and BAM! Awesome! I find a study delving into a possible explanation why exercise helps to combat “old age”, and more specifically, how exercise fights the negative effects of stress.

As a side note, I love PLOS. It’s an open-access resource for publishing scientific research, legit, rigorous, peer-reviewed, and open to the public. I could write a whole post on the importance of this communication method, but I’ll save that for later.

One of the first things I notice about a scientific article is if I recognize any of the authors. BINGO, Elizabeth Blackburn is one of the authors of this report and helped with the study design. She’s an accomplished scientist at UCSF, Department of Biochemistry and Biophysics, and she was also named one of TIME Magazine’s 100 most influential people in 2007. Dr. Blackburn has also won awards that are akin to being on the US Olympic team. Suffice it to say, she rocks.

The Power of Exercise: Buffering the Effect of Chronic Stress on Telomere Length

In this publication by Eli Puterman and colleagues including Dr. Blackburn, the authors state, “Vigorous physical activity appears to protect those experiencing high stress by buffering its relationship with TL [telomere length].”

What the heck is a telomere?

Good question.

It’s important to understand these things before we can understand why it’s so important to protect them. A telomere is kind of like a helmet for your chromosome ends (see white tips in image of actual chromosomes above). A telomere is a complex of DNA and protein that caps the end of the chromosome—everyone has 23 chromosome pairs (46 total) per cell, except for gametes which only have 23 chromosomes, remember?

Anyhoo, these caps contribute to the chromosome’s stability. As cells divide and replace older cells, a piece of your cellular machinery (called ‘telomerase’) actively replaces these caps to protect the DNA. Basically it behooves the cell to have high-performing telomerase activity. Sure, there’s a short “buffer” at the end of the chromosome, but as cells divide, if the DNA looses it’s protective cap, it can shorten to a critical length. That’s when things can go wrong.

At this stage, the cell can basically go to sleep and stop dividing. What then? A host of problems can begin, such as immunological problems signaled by the sleeping cells, which can promote heart disease, diabetes, and eventually you’re pushing up daisies too soon.

Importantly, telomere shortening has long been associated as a marker for biological aging.

OK, get this, short telomeres have been reported in people with high psychological stress, too.

Puterman and colleagues were familiar with the phenomenon other researchers have demonstrated along with this tasty nugget: endurance athletes have longer telomeres! (Excellent!)

With this data in hand, the researchers wanted to understand if stressed but physically active people would be protected from telomere shortening compared to sedentary (and stressed) controls. So, they designed an interesting study looking at this hypothesis. If you want to read the nitty-gritty, I suggest reading the original article.

To summarize, the authors state:

“…physical activity was able to protect those experiencing stress by buffering its relationship with TL [telomere length], as hypothesized. Our findings support the physical benefits of activity, and, interestingly, map well onto Centers for Disease Control (CDC) recommendations for amount of physical activity required to sustain a healthy body (75 minutes of vigorous exercise per week). … In the present study, we were able to rule out potential factors as alternative explanations for both the stress-telomere association and the buffering potential of physical activity.”

So, basically the researchers’ hypothesis was supported by the data they gathered from the study.

In their final remark, the authors also suggest, “It is reasonable to conclude that exercise should be strongly advised and prescribed to people reporting high levels of psychological stress.”

However, they also mention that highly stressed people are also inherently less likely to exercise. And I *get* that, too. Believe me, I do, more than you know. (My MS severely limits my ability to exercise.)

I’m not here to make anyone feel bad for not exercising. We all can only do what we can. I’m only here to say I’m pleased the accumulating research undeniably supports that exercise rocks when it comes to delaying aging, combating depression, dealing with the physical detriments of stress, and even improving cognitive function.

The next time you’re staring at your swimsuit with a frown or deciding between that extra cup of coffee or a brisk walk, please remember all the good that comes with exercise. Deal?

I enjoy reading research results that support or explain something I intuitively know to be true. Maybe we should trust our intuition more often?

Now, get out there and sweat! Workout to train for old age.

[Thank you to the authors of this publication for sharing this great study! I've shared quotes in this post courtesy Creative Commons license from PLOS ONE, a peer-reviewed journal of the Public Library of Science. Telomere photo courtesy Creative Commons license via US Department of Energy Human Genome Program. Photo at top of post by Maria Keays via Creative Commons license.]

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Life models many aspects of nature, don’t you think?

This week has been marked by some extremely high tides and, in concert, I felt tides rising around me:

• My good friend found out she is faced with some severe health problems.
• I received word that my family’s farm in the Midwest was pummeled with grapefruit-sized hail and the nearby city experienced multiple tornadoes.
• Lovely San Diego rocked from a 5.9 earthquake (epicenter was about forty miles away).
• A friend who I love dearly and from whom I have divined deep inspiration recently tested HIV positive.
• I can’t put into words the devastation I feel because of the continued demolition of the Gulf of Mexico.

What the heck is going on? Life felt as though the tide had risen too high and I wanted the ocean to sweep all this bad news away.

Yesterday morning, I went for a brief walk to clear my head and soon after I started, a butterfly the size of the palm of my hand crossed my path.

And then it hovered there.

And fluttered.

And flittered about.

It was like she was winking at me—she was just enough to make my day a shade brighter.

Since then, the highest tides have flattened, and:

• My friend found out that with surgery she should make a strong recovery.
• No one was hurt from the storms back home.
• San Diego did not suffer any major damage.
• The doctors say with the appropriate drug cocktail and diet, my friend is likely to die from old age.
• I’m still pissed about the oil spill—but my husband and I have put in place an even stricter “oil use” policy for us. (No more petroleum candles [only soy], he stopped driving to work [only walking and cycling], limit purchase of petroleum-containing products, we signed up for local vegetable/fruit community garden pick up program [win-win!]).

And, so it goes. Tomorrow the 18th brings the first-quarter moon, the tidelines continue to flatten, and life becomes more even keel.

I am amazed how life mimics nature. Have we gotten so far from nature that this synergy seems a little surprising (even to little ‘ole me)?

I want to hear what you have to say about nature and synergy.

I grew up on a farm and have always felt a very close connection to nature (sun, soil, rain, sky) and for the past ten years, the ocean is my connection to nature. Maybe in my former life I was a woodland nymph?

What about you? Do you find your emotions or life rolls with the tide, moon phases, or other natural cycles?

[Photo courtesy Sudheer]

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Since I try not to focus on low points, even though they have their purpose in life, I decided to highlight some of my highs for 2010 thus far here at Jane Be Nimble (in no particular order). I invite you to check out the folks I’ve linked when you have time. You won’t be disappointed.

ONE: Being named one of 52 bloggers to watch in 2010 over at Steven Aitchison’s blog. Thank you, Steven! Check out this page to find some amazing bloggers. I’m humbled to be amongst these gifted people. (Namaste)

TWO: Visiting The World’s Strongest Librarian one morning to see he named one of his original songs after me (I’m still recovering from the shock)—somehow, I still don’t feel worthy of this one. Huge hugs and thank you to you, Josh–never take off that cape! Josh is an amazing musician and I highly suggest listening to his performances at his blog.

Click to View!

THREE: Super awesome to have Lance, Zeenat, and Gayze by my side supporting the RAOKA crusade (Random Acts of Kick Arse). To post about a theme the first Wednesday of the month about all things wonderful, the idea originally birthed by Sami May has been kept alive with the help of these raokin’ bloggers.

FOUR: Participants in the RAOKA crusade have chipped in by linking their posts to spread the spirit. Some of these rock stars include: The Exception, Eric Watermolen at Eden Journal, Mama Llama at All (Green) Thumbs, and Ted Hessing at Cubicle Warrior. Thanks, choir of greatness! If you’re a blogger and you want to join the fun, link your post to my RAOKA post (via the form at the bottom) and send me an email if you’d like to be sent a reminder email one-week prior to posting day.

FIVE: If you’re reading this, thank you! You’ve given me much enjoyment, encouragement, inspiration, and healing energy since this blog was born. I thank you from the deepest places of my heart.

SIX: Earlier I had decided I wouldn’t say anything about this, but, well, I’m proud of it and it happened to fit my mood today. This is my 100th post at JBN.

SEVEN: Visiting George Angus’ blog and finding he anointed me with the Beautiful Blogger award.

What? Little ol’ me?  George, you’re an amazing writer and friend and I appreciate you sharing this with me. One of the terms of acceptance is to disclose seven things you may not know about me. So, here it goes:

1:  Sometimes, I have a harsh type-A personality that gets in my (and other people’s) way. I’m working on softening my grip.

2:  While attending a week-long, intense scientific conference/workshop, I once projectile puked on my white shoes after finishing a morning run with a professor whose work I admired . (Not a pretty site—and yes, the spew made it to his shoes, too.) I had been running marathons for six months—no worries, right?—I didn’t take into account he was a speedy dude.

3:  I love pistachios.

4:  I can play multiple musical instruments (not at the same time).

5:  I once squeezed out a whole tube of toothpaste because I’ve always wanted to do that—’twas good fun.

6:  I’m a nail biter (I can’t believe I told you that).

7:  I used to love orchestrating elaborate practical jokes.

The second acceptance criterion includes me passing this award to 15 bloggers.

Like George said, I’m not normally into this kind of thing, but I’d love to support the sites I frequent. To those I’ve linked, feel free to pass it on or to not participate, it’s up to you. While there are many more sites that I’d love to tap, here are 15 sites I regularly visit (of course, George, you’re here, but against the rules to list you, right?) Again, no particular order:

1: Suzannah at Write It Sideways

2: Jonah at The Frontal Cortex

3: Gayze at Gayzehound

4: M at The Exception

5: Tess at The Bold Life

6: Lance at The Jungle of Life and The Feel Good Jungle

7: Zeenat at Positive Provacations

8: Tim at 360 Degree Self

9: Jay at Porsidan

10: Debbie at The Best Brain Possible

11: Larry at Story Fix

12: SuZen at Erasing the Bored

13: Hilary at Positive Letters

14: Patty at Why Not Start Now?

15:  Sara at A Sharing Connection

Your turn! I’d love to hear about a midyear highlight or two of yours. Lay ‘em on me!

Want to keep reading?

♦ Nine for 2009
♦ My Friday Shout Out

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March Theme: Laughter (chosen by me)

Let’s start with a 30-second giggle, an animated cartoon. (I love these shorts blasts of laughter.)

Click on the image below and it will take you to The New Yorker website—come back after you’ve had a laugh! If you’re viewing this via RSS, click here.

Click to watch at The New Yorker website

There’s something about chicken-and-egg jokes that not only tickle my funny bone, but reaches in to the marrow. I’m thinking it’s something to do with me growing up on a farm with chickens in combination with my science background (maybe?).

Also, that also might be why I love Gary Larson comics so much. I’d show one here, but I didn’t get permission before writing this post, so go to this site to check out a few of them. By the way, did you know Gary Larson pitched his cartoon to the San Francisco Chronicle (back in ~1979)—they loved it, syndicated it, and renamed it “The Far Side”?

OK, my next laughter pick, albeit semi-dated, has always made me laugh my arse off. Something about this bobbing baby really gets my gut busting with laughter. (This video is 2 min 50 seconds in duration.)

Check out this video, or if you’re reading this via RSS, click here.

Finally, a short-and-sweet joke. I’ve heard this one a few times over the years, but it’s one of my favorites.

A neutron walks into a bar. “I’d like a beer,” he says. The bartender slides the beer across the bar to the neutron.
“How much will it be?” the neutron asks.
“For you?” replies the bartender, “no charge.”

I chose laughter for this month’s theme, in part, because I believe it to be the best medicine. I’ve recently written about some challenges I’m facing, so even if you just do it for little ‘ole me, please leave me a dose of laughter in the comments. Thanks in advance to all of you reading. I hope you enjoyed a short snippet of laughter today!

Stay tuned for next month’s theme: FAMILY (chosen by Gayze).

♦ February’s theme post: Passion
♦ January’s theme post: Gratitude
♦ December’s theme post: Wacky!
♦ November’s theme post: Beauty
♦ October’s theme post: Kindness
♦ Introductory theme post: RAOKA!

The RAOKA mission seeks to remind us that Random Acts of Kick Arse happen all around us—and also to spread the spirit. Each month, one of us RAOKA groupies picks a new theme to focus our attention toward positivity and goodness in this world.

On the first Wednesday of each month (US time zone) we all post about what we’ve observed.

The RAOKA team—check out other LAUGHTER posts:

Lance at Jungle of Life
Dani at Positively Present
Gayze at Gazehound’s Animal Communication
Zeenat at Positive Provocations

RAOKA’s creator, Sami May, is currently on blogging hiatus and may return in the future—I’ve picked up the torch for her in the interim. Thank you for giving RAOKA momentum, Sami!

Be Involved in RAOKA!

If you’d like to become a Random Acts of Kick Arse Crusader—here’s your chance:

1. Follow along with our monthly themes and spread the random acts of kick arse!
2. Write a post about you’re up to and publish it on the first Wednesday of each month if you are in the US (for other parts of the world, check out your corresponding day here). If you need a reminder each month, feel free to email me at lori [@ symbol] janebenimble [dot] com to let me know you want to be a RAOKA Crusader and I’ll send you a reminder email. If you don’t have a blog, you’re welcome to play along in the comments.
3. When you see my RAOKA post published, fill out your details in the form below including the URL address of your own RAOKA post and the title of your blog in the “Link Title” field. This will then automatically create a link to your post for others to see what kind of arse kicking you get up to. See the following link as an example (link 1).

[logo designed by Melissa at Operation Nice]

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[This post is geared toward those newly diagnosed with MS or for people who love people with MS. However, these strategies could apply to anyone striving for a healthy brain and body. Still here? Welcome aboard! Photo by Me.]

All too often, someone approaches me—a family member or a friend, or someone who has happened across my blog, or even my MRI technician—who says something like this, “My brother’s sister-in-law just found out that she has been diagnosed with MS. She has [x, y, z] symptoms, and well, we’re all crushed because of the news. She’s pretty upset.” (Discussion ensues.) “Can I send her your email address?”

I’m glad they feel comfortable talking to me about it. And hells yeah, absolutely send me an email. I’m a fifteen-year veteran, having served hard time working for Ms. MS since I was 24 (I’ll have my 40th birthday this fall). I have some things to say about getting such a diagnosis and what I’ve done about it since then.

It’s true that MS touches all of us—friends, loved ones, and co-workers. Everyone knows someone who has MS. You know someone (other than me). I’m fairly sure of it.

Every person has his or her own path, and I’m not saying this post will guarantee you or your loved one(s) success and happiness. I’m simply sharing my journey with you—take what might seem useful.

Some Background

Directly from the National MS website: “In the United States today, there are approximately 400,000 people with multiple sclerosis (MS)—with 200 more people diagnosed every week. Worldwide, MS is thought to affect more than 2.1 million people.”

I’m an Army of One, with 2.1 million buddies by my side. Call me Roxanne the Riveter (Rosie’s granddaughter). We can do this!

My MS Diagnosis

“Well, Lori, based on your history, the MRI, and the spinal tap, it looks like you have MS, but, at least you don’t have a brain tumor.”

I sat with my eyes welling up, thinking my world was crashing down around me.

What? At least I don’t have a brain tumor? What kind of thing is that to say?

Not the best bedside manner, to say the least. But, it is what it is, and life went on.

As a quick aside, I should tell you what is happening on a molecular level when someone has multiple sclerosis (MS). I am a molecular biologist, after all, which has definitely come in handy.

Click to visit the Wiki site

MS is like the telephone chord that looses it’s plastic coating, so the signals don’t get to where they are supposed to go as well. It’s an autoimmune disease where the body manufactures molecules that attach to one’s own myelin sheath (that fatty substance acting as electrical insulation), which surrounds the neuron at the axon. These molecules destroy the insulation (myelin).

This destruction causes a “hardening” or what’s called a sclerotic plaque (scar tissue). Medically, this is called a “lesion” when it happens to groups of cells and is imaged via MRI.

With affection, I often call my brain the Swiss cheese brain. But, every time I get an MRI that shows more lesions, I get a pang of loss. Damn! Less real estate! I bank on the fact that each of those is the property in the swamps I’ve been wanting to sell off anyway. Then, I get to work wiring a new path around the damage (i.e., balance drills, sleep, mental challenges, writing, math exercises, etc.).

(To learn more about MS, symptoms, and treatments, please visit the National MS website. One thing I won’t have time to touch on here are medical treatment options—I might touch on that topic in future post.)

My top ten ways to thrive with MS (but, applies to anyone!)

One: Educate yourself

Learn the facts from a reputable source like the National MS society and your doctor.

Two: Don’t obsess on the internet (looking for MS information) or in MS chat rooms

MS encompasses a wide variety of symptoms and it’s very much an individual disease—often referred to as “My MS”. Realize that just because you hear such-and-such happened to so-and-so, doesn’t mean it will happen to you. “It might happen” is not the same as “it will happen”. Don’t let the internet take over your life and/or beliefs. There are a lot of scary stories that will most probably not apply to you. Don’t spend time thinking about the ‘what ifs’. Your mind is a powerful thing. I’m living proof. Be in the present—enjoy the now.

Three: Apply an 80/20 rule

Immediately dump 80% of those things in your life that cause you stress: emotional stress or psychological stress. Physical stress is good for you, like working out, swimming or walking—but try not to overheat—MS can cause heat sensitivity. I knew I was in a bad marriage that couldn’t be saved while I was in the midst of being diagnosed. We ended things quickly and I moved on. If you can find work that drastically reduces your stress, do it! Stress is the biggie, in my experience. Get rid of it. It’s not worth loosing your eyesight over. And, I’m being serious. I lost mine for a spell. Only reserve the 20% that you can face or can’t possibly be changed—dump the rest.

Four: Get support

This is as important as water and food. You MUST find support, whether that is a professional (probably ideal if you can get it), a friend, family, or a MS support group. Surround yourself with positive people. You don’t have the time or energy to NOT do this.

Five: Fuel your body well

Avoid eating land animals and saturated plant oils (coconut, palm oil)—saturated fats and hydrogenated fats (in margarine and most packaged snack foods) are not good for you. Flax oil is great, and omega-3/omega-6 fatty acids are your friends (grilled salmon, yum!). Your body is your fortress—treat it as such. Drink alcohol in moderation. Eat a lot of fiber as well as nuts, seeds, legumes, and fresh veggies. Get your vitamin D—usually 20 min in bright sunlight (no sun block!) every day is sufficient depending on where you live. You’re eating and sun basking for your neurons, to help build up that fatty tissue (myelin) and to support your immune system. You’re bulking up those axons, time for some Omega-3/Omega-6 bench presses!

Six: SLEEP!

I should have placed this at numero uno, but this is of utmost importance. No joking around here! I don’t care if you were a Midwestern farmer’s daughter who is accustomed to waking up at 4 AM to start the chores and busting your hump until 11 PM, you can’t skip lots of sleep. Add naps, too. You will not fare well if you don’t let yourself sleep as much as you feel you need. Incredible amounts of healing occur during sleep. More and more is being learned about the healing power of sleep. Read this article by Jonah Lehrer at the blog, The Frontal Cortex. Or, better yet, subscribe to learn a plethora of great info about the brain and how it functions in society. Mr. Lehrer is a best-selling author to boot.

Seven: Delve into alternative health

Learn to meditate. This has given me so much hope and light. Don’t know how? Get some books from the library or seek out a meditation group. Feel stuck? Do a simple meditation that I perform every day. In a comfortable position (I get horizontal) breathe deeply. Feel deep, healing breaths flowing in and out of your lungs. Simply count to seven. At the in-breath, say in your mind or out loud “1” and the out-breath, say “Ommm” or any other word or sound that is pleasing to you. Repeat using the number “2” and so on. When you get to “7”, start over at “1”. Free your mind. Be in the present. Focus on the breath.

Eight: Perform visualization exercises many times during the day

You now have no excuse. Meditation and visualization are no longer an option in my practice. I must do them every day, several times a day. Visit this post for an excellent discussion about techniques and more ideas about this subject. (Plus, the author rocks. Debbie is a voice of healing from someone in the trenches. She is healing from a brain injury, herself). I formerly used visualization exercises to rock the triathlon, now I use healing images (usually involving water) to watch in my mind’s eye as my brain heals.

Nine: Your life is not over

If you’re thinking it is, stop it. You will adjust to whatever circumstance you are facing. You must believe this. Do I still get brief moments of sadness having decided to not have children of my own because of Ms. MS, or from no longer racing, or hearing from friends that so-and-so just finished another marathon? Hell yes. Do I let it own me? No. Instead of competing in the Ironman Triathlon, I’m going to become a published author. I hate to use the cliché, but when one door closes, another one opens. It does no good to wish you didn’t have MS. You do. You absolutely need to not spend time focusing on what you can’t change, but what you can do.

Ten: Accept that there may be some bad days

But, also know there will be really great ones, too. Accept and know in your bones that the brain is plastic, it can rewire routes, it can heal. Don’t let MS destroy your spirit—MS may be hungry for myelin, but it can’t have your soul. Get out for walks, move you body, stretch, do yoga, engage your mind, try new things. Everyone’s MS is different. Take time to cry and scream when you need to, but don’t stop trying.

You are not your MS.

Visit more posts in the “Your Body is a Fortress” Series.

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If you follow this blog, you know I host the Front Porch series where I write about everyday stories, just stories that folks talk about on front porches, back yards, or in break rooms in snippets during the day.

I recently read a book, sent to me by a dear friend, called “Surely you’re joking, Mr. Feynman.” This book is a collection of short stories as told by Dr. Richard P. Feynman, the Nobel Prize winner in Physics in 1965. Wow, was this guy a character, and also a brilliant man having been involved in activities such as the birth of quantum mechanics, bongo playing, juggling, safe cracking, and drawing/art, in addition to being a professor at Caltech (California Institute of Technology).

One chapter in this book is titled “Altered States”—this chapter juggled loose a crypt in my brain that I had nearly forgotten about—my sensory deprivation tank experiment.

Please climb on the Front Porch with ME today while I tell you the story.

During my training to become a Holistic Health Practitioner (an HHP is basically a massage therapist with additional training in stress reduction, Eastern philosophies, holistic nutrition, and energetics), the gentleman teaching one of my classes in energy work closed a class by welcoming anyone who wanted speak with him after class about topics he’d covered.

I was intrigued by this man and decided to take him up on his offer, but was even more surprised when, from our class of fifteen people, I was the only one who stayed behind to talk.

During our discussion about energy work, I started asking questions about some of his philosophies around energetics and he said that he had seen visions from time spent in sweat lodges as well as using other situations to, “get out of his body and see his self in a different way.”

Then he said, “I actually have my own sensory deprivation tank, you’re more than welcome to coordinate a time to come over to try it out, if you want. Just give me a call.”

We talked a bit longer, I thanked him for the intriguing class and for sharing his knowledge, and that I’d be in touch. I walked out of class with his digits in hand, thinking that would be the end of that.

The following week, I thought to my self, When will you ever get the chance to try that out, don’t be a chicken, just call the guy!

The following Thursday, I found myself walking up the cement stairs to his home,

…which turned out to be quite a spread. He’s since moved, but he lived in a gorgeous coastal home north of San Diego. The cement stairs led to the front door, which featured a stained glass menagerie of dolphins jumping in the ocean, inset into the landing in front of the door was a spiral pattern of rainbow-colored bricks.

I became nervous. What the heck was I thinking? I barely know this guy other than from school. But, he had to be legit, he was an instructor at a fully accredited school, I had to quit being such a chicken.

He greeted me at the door. He had a soft smile and a warm glow about him—he was one of those people who was obviously comfortable in his skin.

He welcomed me, thanked me for taking him up on his offer, and then got right to it. He showed me to the room where he kept the tank and explained what would happen. He’d leave the room, I’d undress, get in the tank, and then he’d come in and seal it. An hour later he would come back to alert me by knocking on the roof, he’d leave the room again, and I’d exit the tank, put on the robe he would leave next to the tank, then I could use his shower to rinse off and we could have coffee afterward if I’d like to talk about the experience.

About the Sensory Deprivation Tank

It looked like a human-sized, solid eye-glass case, the kind that is spring-hinged and the color of slate. It completely shuts out all noise and light. Inside the cocoon rests super-saturated water, saturated with sea salts (some people use Epsom salts) so that the body is buoyant and is also at the same temperature as the body. The point is to introduce no sensory input and to maintain complete sensory deprivation allowing the mind to work independently of the body.

What Happened Once I was in the Tank

It took a few minutes to accommodate to the feeling of complete newness, a completely different experience than I had experienced prior to this time. I had been in the ocean a lot, so knew the feeling of buoyancy and density from salt water, but a lot of auditory and visual sensory input while I was in the ocean were present, too.

I can’t say I had ever been in a situation where there was NO sensory input coming into my body. That was borderline shocking. But once I relaxed and stopped the internal catastrophist from talking, “Oh geez, woman, what are you doing? You’re in a dude’s home, locked in a human-sized coffin, with no sensory input, you knucklehead!!” I had to trust what was happening, have faith, and enjoy the experience.

So I Did

Once I calmed down, the first thing I noticed was peace, this wonderful peaceful feeling flowing over me.

An amazing light show started. I started seeing all kinds of colored streaks of lights, not like a laser-light show, but more like colored jellyfish tentacles flowing thorugh my field of vision. It was gorgeous.

The mind is a very active entity, and if there is no stimulation coming in, it fills the void. I saw this first hand. Absolutely.

Then I started having some auditory sensations, I wouldn’t call it music, but it was kind of like that. Kind of like a stream of harps or strings humming in the background. It was quite pleasant.

Throughout the remainder of my time in the tank, I knew I was not sleeping, but I was in a dream-like state. I was seeing images, akin to a dream, a sort of video tape or movie, but I was aware that I was not sleeping. It is difficult to describe. Feyman talks about his experiences in a sensory deprivation tank in the chapter I mentioned at the beginning of this post—his account is very similar to what I experienced.

Before I knew it, I heard a knock on the surface, I knew it was time to go. I slowly opened the case and it was like a rush of stimulation filled my body. In a way I was very sad it was over, but mostly couldn’t believe how fast an hour flew by.

It literally seemed like ten minutes or so.

There are other instances described in literature where hallucinations are described while in a sensory deprivation tank.

In fact, the physician, psychoanalyst, and philosopher John Lilly became well known for his work with sensory deprivation tanks in the ’60s (I wrote a report about him in Freshman English while I was in college, interestingly enough). He ended up taking things a bit too far, loosing credibility, when he started priming the experience with psychedelic drugs.

(The 1973 movie The Day of the Dolphin, was also inspired by John Lilly’s character—Lilly believed inter-species communication is possible.)

In Closing

Would I try this again? Heck yeah! What a feeling! I’m really glad I took the opportunity to have the experience.

After I climbed out of the tank, donned the robe, made my way to wash the salt out of my hair and off my body, and got dressed, I had a warm cuppa joe with my host. He was just a nice guy wanting to offer an hour of peace to a fellow member of humanity. We had an interesting conversation and then he bid me farewell.

Thanks for reading about my story. Now, think about how many experiences you’ve had that you could write about. Entire books have been written about only a 24-hour time frame or even a week.

Do you have a story in you? I guarantee you do. Please email me about a story and let’s share our humanity. Steep me in your greatness!

Create your day!
[Photo by Roblisameehan]
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Previous Front Porch Posts:
Front Porch: The Series
Front Porch: Not A Typical Day In The Park (With Tim Piotrowski)
Front Porch: Pearl’s Wisdom (A conversation with Lori’s first pet)
Front Porch: An F22 Jet and a Costa Rican Chica (With Lisis Blackston)
Front Porch: George and the Power of the Human Spirit (With George Angus)
Front Porch: Of Bands, Explosions, and Cattle Auctions—Laughter (With Jay Schryer)
Front Porch: Brave, Bold Tess (With Tess Marshall)
Front Porch: Cardboard Sleds, Machu Picchu, and Sami May
Front Porch: Only in Lance World (with Lance Ekum)
Front Porch: Life Though Mia’s Eyes with (Mia Platt)

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I spend a lot of time in awe and amazement thinking about our amazing human body: the physical component of our human body, and the emotional and spiritual side. I love the body so much I earned my B.S. in nutrition and Ph.D. in molecular biology so I could understand it better. What could be more interesting?

Living with multiple sclerosis for the past fifteen years is also a part of why I think about it so much, sometimes I just can’t NOT think about it—about my mind and how it can possibly function as well as it does with over a dozen lesions interspersed throughout my brain and spinal cord.

["There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza, there's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, a hole!" ha ha -- I've always loved this Seasame Street vignette!]

(Nerve fibers are hugged by a myelin sheath to protect and insulate them for better conduction. Lesions are non-functional scar tissue caused by destructive demyelination—an artifact of the MS Army. What I term the ‘MS Army’ [or Ms. MS] is my own body attacking my myelin sheaths.)

Our minds are amazing things. Now, more than ever, the research evidence is pouring in that, as we age or suffer injury or damage, the possibility exists that the brain can rewire itself. We need to use our minds for activity, problem solving, communication, and play—to thrive.

Two things this week have really blown my mind (no pun intended).

1) I read the book, “Stroke of Insight: A brain scientist’s personal journey” by Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor (originally published in 2006).

2) I watched a TED lecture delivered to my RSS reader (I follow the TED blog), which featured Temple Grandin.

Click to Order a Copy

I connected twith Dr. Taylor’s book on many levels. Dr. Taylor suffered a massive stroke in the left hemisphere of her brain a few years after she received her Ph.D. in neuroanatomy and had been working as a neuroanatomist in research.

In her book she describes the details of the stroke, which happened over about four hours, from the viewpoint of a neuroanatomist (how cool is that!!?) and went on to chronicle her eight year recovery from not being able to speak, walk, or even sit up on her own to a very functional and happy life.

What really grabbed my interest was the last few chapters where she described activities of the right brain vs. the left brain and how they interact with one another. She also speaks of the nirvana she felt when her left-brain was effectively silenced, muting the Chatty Cathy of the brain and the right hemisphere took over camp.

For people who have suffered any type of brain injury, their families and loved ones, or for any of you looking for ways to tap into an inner peace you may not know is within you, please read this book. Personally, I found the list in Appendix B (Forty Things I Needed the Most) incredibly valuable, as many of the list also apply to me and my MS journey. I’ll be passing this book to my loved ones.

About Temple Grandin…

If you haven’t heard her name before, she’s a high-functioning autistic woman who is a strong proponent of humane treatment of cattle (in feed lots and slaughterhouses). In this video, Temple talked about how her and many other autistic minds work—she thinks in pictures.

From the TED website, “She makes the case that the world needs people on the autism spectrum: visual thinkers, pattern thinkers, verbal thinkers, and all kinds of smart geeky kids.”

I loved watching her lecture, watching her explain things, and just being in her presence. How inspiring! I hope you take time to watch it, it’s about 18 minutes in length, so pick a time to relax and be awed.

Ms. Grandin has also authored many best-selling books and HBO also recently produced a movie about her life called, “Temple Grandin” (Temple is played by Claire Danes). Ms. Grandin received her Master’s Degree in animal science from Arizona State University.

As always, I hope this post finds you happy, healthy, and creating new neuroconnections. Try something different today, learn something new, or take extra time to laugh and make snow angels (er, uh, that’s fog/rain angels in my part of town)!

Please join me in the comment section, have you seen this TED lecture, heard of Temple Grandin, or read Dr. Taylor’s book? What did you think? (If you have questions about MS or need advice, please don’t hesitate to contact me.)

Create a great day!

[For full disclosure, I will receive nothing from Amazon if you order a book via my site and nothing from the TED lectures if you click the video. However, I expect to have my own BOOK available through Amazon and other bookstores someday, or even to present at TED someday. Please send out good vibes for me!]

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I’m not sure how or when my logophilia took hold.

Two favorite words I’ve recently discovered comprise this post’s title. In case you’re like me and have no idea what these words mean, I’ll save you a trip to the dictionary:

Panglossian • \pan-GLAH-see-un\  • adjective
: marked by the view that all is for the best in this best of possible worlds : excessively optimistic

effulgence • \ih-FULL-junss\  • noun
: radiant splendor : brilliance

Now, if you get an email from me saying, “(Insert name), your Panglossian effulgence continues to amaze and inspire me.” you won’t spike your right eyebrow into an arc and think I’m a lunatic.

As a kid, I craved word games and books. Yes, I was a total geek as a kid. When other little girls were fussing over pink dresses and begging for ponies, I was ordering my 1,001 Word Games anthology, reading every Nancy Drew novel Mom had stored in the basement, pouring over every book J.R.R. Tolkien wrote, and perusing the Encyclopedia Britannica during breaks in the day.

I currently subscribe to Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Day via my RSS reader long past the days I needed to build my vocabulary for the GRE.  Why? Because I find language fascinating.

When I see a word in a post or book that I don’t recognize, I quite enjoy the process of looking it up and logging its meaning into my memory’s filing cabinets. It’s kind of like going to an art museum and seeing a new painting, “Ooh, ooh, I wonder what the artist is trying to convey—maybe if I get to know the artist’s work better, I can figure out its meaning.”

For example, David Doolin used the word “Lagniappe” in rather useful post about web/blog essentials not long ago. I had to look up the meaning; what a cool word! I hadn’t seen it before and I felt like I had been given a gift—a new file for my cabinets.

That said, my logophilia is becoming a problem. As I continue to slowly grind away at my BOOK, one of the challenges I continue to face is adhering to the age-old writer’s suggestion: don’t send a ten-dollar word to do a two-cent word’s job.

But what if one LIKES ten-dollar words?? To me, ten-dollar words are like shiny things to ravens.

OK, OK, I get it. Of course, we shouldn’t write sentences like, “Lavage one’s hands before dinner,” because the word “lavage”, while it refers to rinsing and washing, is most commonly used when referring to rinsing a hollow organ (such as the sinus cavity). But, hey, I quite like the word “lavage” and often use it, albeit mostly for comedic effect.

I’ve had to fight off the years and years I was steeped in scientific writing. Where it’s preferred and more “humble” to write about one’s experiments in a third-person and passive voice. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had to swap around parts of a sentence to make them active and remove my geeky passivity. But, I’m getting better with practice.

I’m curious to hear about your reading preferences, logophilia, and/or writing challenges. When you see a ten-dollar word, are you inspired and excited to discover its meaning? Or do you think the writer is stuffy, pompous, or annoying?

Bring it, ‘O masters of Panglossian effulgence!

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Psilocybe cubensis (Magic Mushrooms!)

[photo credit afgooey74]

LSD = D-lysergic acid diethylamide

When I was asked to review The Harvard Psychedelic Club, authored by Don Lattin, the request couldn’t have come at a better time. Plus, Mr. Lattin was formerly the religion writer for the San Francisco Chronicle, right in my own geographical backyard. Coolio!

I was born in autumn of 1970. Lately, I have been feeling an urge to learn about how people felt and perceived the decade that ended the year before I was born. These were the days of the Kennedy and MLK assassinations, first landings on the moon, and the ripples of the Vietnam war. The ‘60s seemed to have been a turbulent time, but also one brimming with discovery and energy.

To help fill in the piece of the puzzle, I rented a documentary-style film called, In the Shadow of the Moon (a Ron Howard film), which chronicles America’s quest to land on the moon, leveraging footage and interviews with astronauts who have been to the moon and are still walking the Earth with us. It was inspiring and filled in many holes (questions) about how the world felt during this time in history.

I highly suggest you watch it. This movie far exceeded my expectations.

I often quip that if this country can figure out how to land on the moon (and pay for it), we can figure out anything—especially when it relates to finding a way to care for people. To be clear, I’m talking about initiating a national health care system where people don’t fall though cracks or loose their life savings because they can’t qualify for or afford health insurance. I believe a lot can be ascertained about a society depending on how they take care of their people.

I digress.

Another puzzle piece!

About the time the email arrived querying my interest in reviewing a book that discusses how a group of men from Harvard ushered in a new age for America, I had watched the Moon movie and this made perfect sense. Super! I can put another block of the ‘60s cultural puzzle in place!

On a literary note, I have to admit that I didn’t really like the way that the narrative was pieced together—I was a bit confused and felt tossed around like a Caesar salad. What saved the book for me was that all the components were savory ingredients—so yummy that I suggest reading the book despite potential confusion. It’s worth the occasional anchovy! The author absolutely did his homework as evidenced by the bibliography. To be fair, I’m not sure how I’d have written it differently. In my book, if you can’t propose a solution, you don’t get to complain.

Since I was sent a proof print, I wasn’t hard on myself for dog-earring the pages to mark juicy passages—normally an act of defilement punishable by permanently stamping one’s meal card “no dessert.” By the time I had reached the end, I had kinked about 20% of the 230 pages. That’s a high enough percentage for me to recommend the book to you and feel good about my recommendation.

Read it.

I particularly enjoyed reading about the lives of many people I’ve come to learn about over the years, such as Andrew Weil, who always has rubbed me wrong. Sorry, Andy, you just do—on a professional level. I somehow laughed on the inside to hear Andrew was the rat that got Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert (later known as Ram Dass) fired. How ironic. You’ll understand why when you read the book.

Finally, you all know I have a Ph.D. in molecular biology/biochemistry so I can’t leave you without a comment (OK, it’s a borderline rant) about the experiments that were conducted and explained in the book.

[Note: The following has nothing to do with the review of the book and everything to do with the some of the characters portrayed in the book.]

I was amazed by what the researchers at Harvard got away with! IRB, anyone? Research using human subjects is not to be taken lightly—an IRB (Institutional Review Board) is required for research with human subjects and is accompanied by strict guidelines.

And they can’t use the argument, “Chill out, girl, it’s 1962 and no one really cares what goes on regarding research and human outcomes. Sit back, let’s tone it down with some LSD.”

Good try.

Guidelines have been in place for decades prior to the LSD experimental work at Harvard.

Back in 1947, as a result of the Nuremberg Tribunals for war crimes against humanity during World War II, a landmark document on medical ethics and one of the most lasting products of the trial came to be widely respected. It employed ten directives for human experimentation—called the THE NUREMBERG CODE.

Here’s the tenth on the list:

“10. During the course of the experiment the scientist in charge must be prepared to terminate the experiment at any stage, if he has probable cause to believe, in the exercise of the good faith, superior skill and careful judgment required of him that a continuation of the experiment is likely to result in injury, disability, or death to the experimental subject.”

I may be a scientist, but I have a feeling anyone reading this *GETS* the meaning here. I do not find it ambiguous. Do you?

How can anyone, in his or her right mind, justify taking drugs WITH his or her research subjects (which is what happened)? I find this to be abhorrent and incredibly irresponsible.

I also find it sad that it took a snot-nosed student at Harvard to end these crazy experiments and get these guys kicked out of Harvard.

I’m not against understanding and investigating potential benefits of psychedelics and other mind-altering drugs, but, just because one works at Harvard, it’s no excuse to remove one’s scientist hat.

On a final note, I respect Lattin for exploring this topic, in part, as a way for him to understand his own experience during the ‘60s. Thanks, Mr. Lattin, for showing me what you have seen through your eyes.

On a final note, if you experienced the ’60s tell me something about your experience! Or, if you missed the decade, like me, what do you think you’re missing?

Author Don Lattin

More reviews of this book:
• Wall Street Journal (by the author, Mr. Lattin)
• San Francisco Weekly (by Jonathan Kiefer)
• SF Gate (by Ari Goldman, professor of journalism at Columbia University)
• New York Times (by Dwight Gardner)
• Happy Lotus (by Nadia)
• Quest for Balance (by Lisis Blackston)

Don Lattin’s website

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