Shifting Gears
For the majority of my first year in Portland, I rode a single speed bike. More accurately, I rode a bike that had gears, but it was old, had not been not maintained, and did not like to shift, so I kept it in a gear that worked. When it came time for me to look at a new bike, I didn’t have any experience shifting gears. I knew of the tremendous mechanical advantage they gave riders and I had heard words like “derailleur” and “dual control lever,” but these were not things I had ever considered before.
After quite a few miles of trial and error on my new bike, I decided to check back in at the shop and ask some fundamental questions. My dad taught me to ride a bike in the driveway when I was a little kid, common sense informed me to abide by the same rules as other vehicles on the road, but I had no idea how gears worked. Toggle a switch, the chain moves, it’s easier or harder to pedal. Sure, it’s simple as a concept, but I wanted to know how to engage with this machine purposefully.
So often, irrational fear inhibits us from asking questions about things “we think we should know.” It seems better to play it cool or Google it later instead of looking silly by asking another human being what we perceive to be rudimentary questions. This, however, is when it is most important to ask. As Aristotle tells us,
the beginning is thought to be more than half of the whole, and many of the questions we ask are cleared up by it.
I was able to learn more from a 5 minute conversation approached from a beginner’s mind than a year of fighting hills, trial and error, and stubbornness.
Shunryu Suzuki reminds us, “the goal of [zazen] practice is to always keep our beginner’s mind” while acknowledging it is the most difficult thing to do. The beginner’s mind is the point from which we can really learn something, if we allow ourselves to shift from the self-imposed rigidity of fear, resistance, and ego.
May the Fourth
On this auspicious day, I have found it timely to revisit two of my most grounding philosophies.
Perhaps my favorite teaching from Jedi Master Yoda comes when he is training young Luke in the ways of the Force. He says,
“For my ally is the Force, and a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter. You must feel the Force around you; here, between you, me, the tree, the rock, everywhere, yes.”
I believe that part of the reason Star Wars was and continues to be so captivating is its ability to weave some of the oldest and deepest notions we have about life into a galactic narrative. By framing the story “a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away” George Lucas gave us the opportunity to relax the critical chatter of our mind and to listen with our heart.
In my traditional chiropractic philosophy, principles similar to the ones expressed by Yoda are evident. In 1927, R.W. Stevenson codified 33 Principles in The Chiropractic Textbook. In it, he writes,
“The function of force is to unite intelligence and matter” and that
“the expression of intelligence through matter is the chiropractic meaning of life.”
For me, it is philosophy that serves as the foundation upon which the art and science of my craft can be firmly rooted. It is not a dogmatic belief in doctrine, but an examined lens that supports and is supported by the evidence of practice.
And so on this day and all days, may the Force (and the 4th) be with you.
Proaction or Reaction?
Camping in the Pacific Northwest, especially in Spring, means you expect rain. In addition to preparing for rain, spending an extended period of time outdoors highlights the importance of proaction.
The cumulative benefit of being mindful of small tasks and taking action before you need to cannot be overstated. Things like washing your dishes after dinner so you have clean plates for breakfast, putting the fly on your tent before it starts to rain, bringing dry wood and keeping it dry, and storing food safely to prevent or deter wildlife from noshing your lunch are examples of being proactive. Sometimes you can get away with neglecting these tasks, but how much more stress and effort are experienced when you have to react to predictable events that could put a damper on your trip?
I think, in fact I know, that the same rules apply to self-care.
Doesn’t it make more sense to consistently promote health, to position yourself to be as adaptive as possible to current stressors, and to employ measures now that prepare you for strains that will challenge you in the future?
In my line of work I often encounter folks who are reacting to signs and symptoms, which accompany an interruption in their ability to perform the tasks they need to or want to do. This is the functional definition of pain. I understand this and it is usually the entry point for people to seek help from a healthcare provider. There is nothing wrong or bad about this approach. If, however, you value being able to live a full and healthy life, reaction as a strategy is simply not as effective as proaction - action that initiates positive change.
My work focuses on helping people reorganize the neural patterns that govern whether they react or respond to stress, and how efficiently they can do so. This approach to health and wellbeing is incredibly effective to help people reacting to pain, but it is even more powerful as a proactive tool to add more life to your years.
In closing, be proactive, get outside, and take care of yourself...now.
