Yerba Mansa Wonderland

as I scuttle along the Bosque trail,

east of the river,

south of the city,

the noise and distraction of life and Cesar Chavez Blvd recede.

 

my          bigness becomes smallness

               beneath

               grandmother and grandfather Cottonwoods.

the           river hums away

    carrying away all that does not serve

    a constant in a world of chaos.

 

suddenly, the landscape

    abruptly

    amazingly

    beautifully

    becomes a meadow of our medicinal relative, Yerba Mansa.

 

it is the Disneyland of the Bosque.

it is paradise.

it is heaven.

it is stillness.

it is abundance

it is healing.

we give thanks.

 

Yerba Mansa moves earth and takes care of stagnation, aerating the soil for other plants to grow roots.

in our bodies, it also addresses stagnation, acting as diuretic for the kidneys, as expectorant for the lungs.

Acting as energetic diuretic and spiritual expectorant as well

coaxing into motion

things that need to move on

places that need to move again

 

How and why this patch is abruptly, amazingly, beautifully there, I am not sure.

The historian’s theory: As Yerba Mansa tea was a mainstay of the Tuberculosis treatments in this desert climate that promised to heal those with the disease, maybe it was planted by hands human.

The biologist’s theory: Water table below is quite shallow at this spot, with enough shade from Cottonwoods above.

My response: I have no idea “how” it came to be, and am not too worried about finding the answer. I am very much excited by the question of “how” this Yerba Mansa patch brings me and all who visit its embrace to a place beautiful.

It lovingly reminds us to care for the earth that it (and all of us) need to grow, to protect the water that feeds it and all of us.

we give thanks.

scuttling further south after basking in Yerba Mansa,

suddenly, the landscape

abruptly

amazingly

beautifully

returns to the Bosque normal, not a single Yerba Mansa plant to be found.

here, I find that my heart gives thanks the loudest.

 

Directions for those who wish to visit for themselves: Park at National Hispanic Cultural Center and enter the Bosque, heading south. The Yerba Mansa patch is 0.75 miles south of Cesar Chavez Blvd. You cannot miss it. Peak bloom (early to middle of June), but like Disneyland, it is magical 365 days a year. Pro tip #1 – bring friends/family, as it will enhance the experience. Pro tip #2 - rub your hands in the soil right at the stalk of the plant to get the oils from the plant. Pro tip #3 - let gratitude overwhelm you.

The Journey Continues

As I get ready to release the 2^nd Writing to Heal book this Saturday, I think back to where it all began.

A few of you may remember emails with a word document attached in the first weeks of the pandemic. “A Gratitude Perspective on Coronavirus”, a piece inspired by my oldest daughter, began the Writing to Heal Journey. I felt that words were needed in a moment where COVID left us all speechless. I trusted that I could heal myself through those words. I trusted that as I healed myself, I could bring others along for the journey as well.

From word documents, it became a blog. And with the blog, a community.

And from the blog, a book emerged in 2022.

That one was focused on healing from the pandemic. COVID was a co-author of sorts, providing the impetus for me to write, providing the gaping hole in our lives from which healing was needed.

This time around, Writing to Heal: The Journey Continues is about re-emergence. It is about the next stage of life and healing that follows a traumatic period. Journeys are filled with valleys and peaks. Struggles alongside triumph. It is not that we re-emerge from the pandemic with an easier life, but that we re-emerge with a sense that we have learned something about the life journey from what we have endured.

A little about the book.

It is a collection of art, poetry, and reflections on social justice, movement, and nature. My children each have pieces in this one.

I hope it will feed and nourish those who peek into its pages.

We also recorded an audio version of the book, with a link to this in the book itself. We plan to release it as an audiobook on Kindle and other platforms this fall.

As we head into the holiday weekend, the journey continues. May we continue our re-emergence journey with joy and resilience, guided by love and gratitude.

I look forward to seeing you at one of the book launch events this next week!

Post-Sabbatical Musings

Good morning, good people.

Now about six weeks back from sabbatical, I thought I would take a few minutes to write to the question many have asked since I returned to work:

“What life lessons did you learn during your time away?”

I recognize that it is an incredible privilege to have the ability to step away from work, something that many of my colleagues at UNM and almost none of the healthcare workforce outside of academia get to experience. It is not lost on me that in my clinic of nurses, medical assistants, pharmacists, social workers, community health workers, PAs, NPs, and MDs only the last group (MDs) are even eligible for sabbatical. That’s about 8 of us, with another 50 people who make up the other groups in the clinic.

Okay, deep breath.

It is admittedly daunting to answer the question above, and I tend to do what I just did here – sneakily avoid answering the question. It feels like I am expected to have something profound, so much so that the lights will flicker and the person will have a vision of The Hereafter just because of what I have shared.

Ignoring that pressure, here goes.

 

Lesson #1: I am much more in control of how busy life gets that I like to acknowledge

My wife has commented that during my sabbatical it didn’t seem to her that my work schedule or commitments was that different than when I am working. I noticed this as well. I have a tendency to fill each day with lots of things, and sabbatical just meant that I got a bit more options in how to fill the day. So, if even 6 months off work didn’t allow me to slow down in a real way, obviously the issue lies with me, not with life beyond, my job, etc.

Reflection: Take a quick glimpse of your schedule for today and the rest of the week. Is there a healthy amount of time for you to decompress, to breathe deep, to practice self-care in your schedule? If not, own your part in making it so. But also take the opportunity to edit, delete, and add as needed.

 

Lesson #2: There is a volume nob on the noise in life. I need to use it.

For astute blog readers, you will remember this came up in my piece about the labyrinth. A very simple but important realization for me that noise – those things that distract us from being our best self – is something I can choose to turn up or down. An example of how I am now working to actively manage the volume button: I decided during the sabbatical to turn off sports talk radio as the thing I listen to before bed. My wife refers to this form of media as “male gossip” and I think she is right on. Not that it is harmful, but it is noise. And by replacing it with silence before bed, it allows me to settle into sleep in a much better way.

Reflection: Take a few moments today to list a few of the “loudest” sources of noise in your life at the moment. Now, circle items on the list that you have some or total control of, in terms of how loud they are. Pick one that you have circled and come up with a plan for the next week of how you could gently (or drastically) turn the volume down on that noise source.

 

Lesson #3: Play is really important for me and my health

It is no coincidence that I began to write on the topic of play and its importance for our health as adults during my 6 months of play that was sabbatical. It wasn’t on my list of things to do when I went on sabbatical, but it naturally became something that I began to think and write about. I even wrote a piece with a colleague on how we can incorporate play into clinic visits and our treatment plans. (A few of our meetings for the paper involved a conversation while playing ping pong).

I think the simplest way that I have found to capture the essence of play is this: the point of playing is not to win, but to play. I realize that most of life is set up for us to have a goal-oriented reason for each task, and when it comes to sports and games, we still focus on winning as the goal.

I like the example that dogs give us in this realm – imagine a Chihuahua and Pit Bull sniffing each other out at the dog park. 5 lbs (on a good day) vs. 90 lbs. And then they begin to play. Despite the massive size discrepancy, you realize a few minutes later that they are still playing. The bigger dog is lying on its back letting the little one throw some jabs. The dogs realize that the point of the game is not to win, but to keep the game going.

Reflection: How are you playing currently in life? Do you wish you played more? Are there activities you currently do that could be enhanced by focusing more on the play itself, as opposed to making them goal-oriented or about winning? Are there new forms of play that you want to explore? Play with this one!

Not surprisingly, when I googled images of "play", there were only images of children that came up. But Bluey's dad is a great example of a playful adult. So here's a nod to Australian PBS. Watch an episode if you haven't already.

Dine' Diva

full of self-love

filled with Beautyway energy

finding comfort in her own skin

she

tied

tsiiyeel

tired of

trying to be anything

                    anyone

                        but the Naadaa ligai Naasht’ezhi

                                      born for Tl’zllani’

                                      Dine’ Diva she is

                        the manifestation of Ancestors

dreams +

prayers +

sweat +

resilience

full

filled

finding

she

tied

tsiiyeel

trembling

                        seeing herself

                        for

                        the

                        first

                        time

This piece is one of my collaborative projects with Crystal Daghaaii (aka Bishdo), with her visual art inspiring my poetic art and vice versa. I love this Indigenous pride and self-confidence in this Bishdo piece, evident in all of her work. You can see and support her art here.  

My second book, Writing to Heal: The Journey Continues, will include this collaborative piece. Our book launch party is exactly one month away, July 5th. Stay tuned for details!

Labyrinth Wisdom

When you step into a labyrinth,

Even the air that hovers above is different.

Still and fresh,

it fills

heart and lungs

with renewal.

Pumping and respiring

Arteries and alveoli

Vigorously awakened

Alert and alive  

 

The labyrinth has much to teach:

Trust in the path before you.

Don’t look too far ahead.

 

Narrow confines are there not to constrict, but to embrace, your journey

 

Solitary can also be communal

Communal can also be solitary

 

The noise in life comes with a volume button: we just have to use it

The beauty in life also comes with a volume button: we just have to use it

 

I had a wonderful invitation from Peter and Deirdre to visit a labyrinth in the Bosque recently. I was curious, as the location they described was within a few strides of trails that I frequently run. They guided me to the location. The noise of I-40 rumbled in the background, but suddenly seemed far away. I played with the volume nob like a toddler, excited to see that I could attenuate (toddler speak for "change") the noise level. 

I was amazed at this gem that I had never seen despite its proximity to where I move. How had I missed it all these years? Life is often like that – we scurry past the “gems” at a speed that makes it easy to miss them.

It also struck me, as I labyrinthed with them, to be open to new insights and learning even with things we feel confident that we know well. Here was a patch of earth that I run more than just about any other, with only 100 yards of Bosque between river and acequia and yet I had no idea the labyrinth existed.

Peter and Deirdre, thank you for the adventure and learning! Labyrinth on!

Norty

A few weeks ago, I had a chance to sit with a dear mentor of mine, Dr. Norty Kalishman.

Norty is one of those people who has done it all – protested injustices, sat on non-profit boards, helped to lead a charitable foundation and lots of things he probably hasn’t told me about. He did all of this while serving his communities as a primary care physician, including a stint where helped lead the New Mexico Department of Health. 

These days, he balances all of the activism with retirement, enjoying life with his wife Summers, gardening, and being an amazing grandparent.

But it was something he asked at the end of the meeting, a seemingly inconsequential question, that caught me off guard.

“Should I send things to your AMSA email?”

I paused in hearing this. Stunned, to be honest.

AMSA stands for the American Medical Student Association, and I was a student leader in AMSA in 2007, trying to address the troubling presence of for-profit interests (e.g. drug companies) in medical education. They even gave me an AMSA email. (Hey, as a medical student, small gifts like this are amazing, as you try to tread water and stay afloat.)

I hadn’t heard those letters in a long time.

That question made me realize how long Norty had been in my life, encouraging and guiding me.

In fact, I recall now that when I came to Albuquerque as an east coast medical student in 2007, a UNM student had given me a few names of community-oriented, radical, activist physicians that I needed to meet.

Norty, meeting all of the above criteria, was on this short list. He had literally helped to welcome me to Burque and this Enchanted Land.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As life speeds ahead, often at a dizzying pace, it can be a sort of amnesia, making it hard to remember the people who have poured into us over years and decades.

Surely, you have people like Norty in your life. 

Take a few moments this week to reflect on the people who have guided your path. Write one of them a letter, give one of them a call, and if they are no longer walking in this life with us, remember them in a way that is meaningful. Let your Nortys know that you are grateful for them.

Norty, thank you for asking the question, and in doing so, helping me to remember. 

Thank you for guiding me these last two decades. 

Thank you for unconditional love and friendship. 

I hope to be like you when I grow up.

p.s. I will share an editorial he co-authored in March on child well-being. Click here

Life's Overwhelming Beauty

Beauty, y’all

    Man, sometimes we look at the vast expanse.

    It’s sort of hard to take it all in.

    It can be intimidating.

    Scary, looking at these depths

It’s also the first moment of seeing the Colorado River after some good hard work to get here.

 

And you also see

You have boulders

Things to hang on to

Things to give you

Shade

Protection

Your loved ones

Creator

It has become an annual ritual for me - running long runs in the Grandest of Canyons, a time to pray and give thanks. I enjoy taking a moment to record something short in the moment, filled with the energy of this magical place and the energy of the movement.

If you want to view the previous years' posts, here they are:

2024: Appreciating the Journey (+ Ourselves) - click here.

2022: Moving from Shade to Sun - click here.