Healing Holidays

The new normal meets winter holidays.

Will surprising the relatives with a visit lead to exhilaration or simply to an door-step interrogation about my recent COVID exposure before deciding if I am allowed in the house?

Do I dare bring up vaccines at the dinner table?

To travel or not to travel?

What is the perfect designer face mask to gift to my significant other?

(And do such gifts follow the holiday fruitcake rule that says re-gifting is 100% cool?)

 

However you choose to answer the above, embrace this year’s break for what it is.

Not what it could have been.

Not how it used to be.

Not how it might be in the future.

Take the days off and a chance to slow down for the gift it is in this moment.

A few more questions naturally arise – take a moment to reflect on these, and even to jot down your thoughts.

What non-material gift do I need to give myself over these next weeks?

What am I needing to fill my cup at this moment?

In the first week of January, what would I be proud of to have done for myself over these last weeks of December?

What non-material gifts could I give to others?

With whom is a phone conversation long overdue?

 

My hope with this piece is simply to help all of us focus on deeper healing in this time. Yes, the malls and big box stores and Amazon try to sell us on superficial and instant gratification. But, I don’t expect that anything from those sources will be the answer to our healing.

Two fun ideas to leave you with, as you design your own winter break game-plan:

Gift and Run

We have started this tradition with some families here in Albuquerque. Wrap some gifts and show up at a busy shopping area and begin the “gift and run” with strangers. Find that stressed cashier or unexpecting family in the laundromat and present them with the gift. You can add “pay it forward” when they look at you in surprise or ask you what this is all about. Note – we have found that children are much better at “gift and run” than us adults. Kids don’t worry about rejection or violating others’ space like us adults. So let the little ones show you the way.

Unplug

Turn off your phone and other connections to the electronic universe for a few days or more. Sound frightening? If so, a good sign that this would be great for you. In my experience doing this for about 10 days each winter break, the first day without a phone does lead to some withdraw symptoms. Once that dissipates, life begins to slow. Your thoughts are no longer on text-speed, instagram-speed. They actually return to normal speed. You might even have to open a paper phone book and use a landline. But here is the real gift – it is not about what you have left behind, but more about what you might now do with your unplugged self. A long hike? A chat with grandmother? Baking something you have wanted to try for months?

May the next weeks bring you what you most need.

See you in ’22!

p.s. If you try either of the above, I would love to hear how they went for you!

Gratitude

 Gratitude

                      flows

once I slow

                                     breath

                                     mind

                                     heart

                                                align to channel

                                                Light

                                                from 7 Directions

Gratitude,

                she loves the invitation to remind

                                                repair

                                refine

                our space that becomes so cluttered

                                              cutting unfettered

                                            floating untethered

                                 embracing our weathered

                                                                +

                                                      weary selves

Becoming a Team

The faster runners had long since passed.

And with them, the roar of cheering parents had died down.

Now, out on the course, there was stillness. One of my favorite moments in coaching cross country races.  

Having sprinted out to a remote part of the course as usual, I now had a moment away from the crowds, the noise, the responsibilities. I was now in company of myself. A chance to breathe deep and take it all in.

Two runners began to approach. They wore racing singlets that showed they were from different teams.

“Let’s go, buddy.”

“You got this.”

This weren’t my words of encouragement. In fact, I really didn’t need to give my usual coaching motivation.

These words were spoken from one runner to the other. No longer competitors from opposing teams. Now, without needing approval from the adults, and in the face of coaches who likely had encouraged them to pass the other one (that’s kind of what us coaches do) they had formed their own team.

They were a team.

Together pushing against fatigue, uphill slopes and the sandy surface beneath their feet.

I watched these two runners as they passed me and headed toward the finish. I could not hide my smile.

These little ones, in their simple act to support one another, were teaching something quite big.

Think of the race you are running today.

Call to mind the hurdles and challenges between you and the finish.

Who are your teammates in this endeavor?

But more important, who are the “other teams” in your race?

What would it take to get you to turn to someone from another team and say:

“Let’s go, buddy.”

“You got this.”

Try it out at your next class at the gym. Try it out in the workplace, in the classroom. With a sibling or colleague with whom you tend to compete for supremacy.

After all, maybe the disparate racing singlets are just a mirage in our lives, separating us along political, religious and other lines into competitor teams.

Maybe, taking the lead of these little ones, the challenge is forming a team with those from “other teams” until “other” disappears altogether.

We:Wa - When a Doodle Became a Masterpiece

On Monday,

The search engine became something more.

Zuni culture no longer needing to be googled.

It was google for this 1^st day of Native American Heritage Month.

We:wa, a beautiful lhamana with both male and female boldy present, proud, and sacred.

Our sister Mallery beckoned us with brush and canvas to wander and wonder into a beautiful space.

Weaving dimensions

2

Bridge gaps in the loom

                      between cultures

                      toward inclusion

Building connections to the Ancestors

                                  to each other

Bringing us to a moment where differences dissipate as the art and story speaks

On Monday,

#newmexicotrue came alive, one search at a time

On Monday,

The story of We:wa became the cultural cryptocurrency antidote to Bitcoin intoxication

On Monday,

The doodle 

                    became 

                                    a masterpiece

Check out this article and 4-minute video on the process behind the Google doodle for November 1st, 2021. Thank you Curtis Quam and Mallery Quetawki for inspiring us all! Elahkwa!

Vaccine, Princesses, and Orca Whales

"Dad, when I get big like my sister, I want to get vaccinated. I won’t cry when I get the shot."

This proclamation by our 4-year old Sihasin came on the heels of showing me her princess-themed drawings and telling me about the dream she had about riding on the back of an Orca whale.

In summary, our daughter’s brain read:

1. Getting vaccinated

2. Princesses

3. Orca whale rides

And since 4-year olds are gifted with the ability to imagine without restrictions of reality or linearity, here is what I guess that her mind was really saying:

"I will be dressed as a princess on the back of an Orca whale when I roll up my sleeve to get the vaccine, suppressing my tears."

For me, currently at the American Public Health Association conference, her interpretation of the news over the last week about an imminent rollout of the COVID vaccine to younger ages, was beautiful. No long explanation needed. Just aspiration to be amongst the vaccinated. (Side note: I firmly believe and recommend bringing toddlers with you on business trips.)

Taking Sihasin’s lead, here is a short writing exercise for us all today:

* Get out a writing utensil and something to write on.

* What is an aspiration that you have today? Write that down.

* Now think of two other things that have recently (in the last minutes) crossed the ticker-tape flow of your thoughts. Write these down.

* Put the three items into a sentence. Correct grammar not necessary. Extra points awarded for silliness, zaniness, and anything that is hard for your realistic mind to comprehend.

* Share your sentence for us in the comments to this blog post.

* Have fun repeating the sentence in your head throughout the day. Smile uncontrollably while doing drawing the sentence in your mind. Dance in the street while imagining it. Forget your officemates as you act it out from your cubby. Etc.

Bill and Ed's Excellent Adventure

The picture floated across my screen. I was in my daily “clean out my inbox” mode where 94% of the brain goes to sleep, eyes glaze over slightly, and the delete button gets tired out. You know that mode – you might even be in that trance as you encounter this piece.

Well, this was one of those moments where something grabs at your heart and flings you out of the “clean out my inbox” mode back into sweet reality.

Here is the picture, sent to me by my momma.

The setting is the 125^th Boston Marathon, which took place on Indigenous Peoples Day this Monday. Usually set in mid-April, this was a unique moment for the race to highlight Indigenous runners. This race, possibly the most famous running event in the world, had told elite Native American runners in previous decades that they were not welcome to run at the Boston Marathon.

Bill and Ed, seen in this picture, ran the 26.2 miles as a duo.

Bill is blind, and Ed served as his guide.

Both are from my hometown running club, the Howard County Striders outside of Baltimore, MD.

Soak in that picture one more time.

I still cannot decide whose feet/feat I am more impressed with. 

Bill having the trust in someone else to guide them over 26 miles of terrain, amidst 30,000 runners? 

Or Ed having the ability to focus for hours upon hours to be the guide?

I know that the question is irrelevant.

The bond between these two, something much stronger and deeper than Bill’s hand laid upon Ed’s wrist screams at us, coaxing tear ducts into action, energizing endocrine system to pump out dopamine and the feel-good hormones.

Today and in each week of our lives, we will be Bill, needing someone else to guide us and shield us from harm. When I asked Bill about his race, he said something incredibly simple and beautifully profound:

"As long as you have a guide you don’t really need to see."

We will also be Ed, given the chance to support someone else in their journey. In that guide role, we are gifted with one of life’s greatest gifts – the chance to serve.

When we are Ed, we are not in a position of power over another; instead, we are a student to Bill, letting him teach us, allowing life’s blurriness to come into crystal clear focus.

Embrace both! To be a guide, and to be guided are perfect complementary parts of today’s journey. Tomorrow’s as well.

What gave me the biggest goosebumps in this picture is actually something not in the shot. I think of how this beautiful Ed-Bill team affected the thousands of runners and spectators around them. I think of the ripple effects of joy that they caused with each step along their journey. Yes, there were runners who inspired awe a few hours ahead of them by their speed, but I doubt that any of those athletes had the effect that Bill-Ed did on those around them. When we serve life’s greatest purpose, the effect on others becomes the primary outcome. When we do something beautiful ala Bill-Ed, we become the vessels for goodness (and dopamine) (and tears) to flow.

Take in this picture one more time. Breathe deep. Imagine running beside Bill and Ed and what you would feel, taking in their glow and the smiles they induced in everyone around them. Let the dopamine and tears flow. Write your own piece about what it means for/to you. Share it with others as an antidote to the "clean out my inbox" daze. 

Dig deep and serve life's greatest purpose this sacred day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I want to share a few thoughts from Bill and Ed about their journey.

I run because I love to eat things that aren’t good for you that come from a bakery.  More seriously I run because I love the social aspect of it and as long as you have a guide you don’t really need  to see.  I love the outdoors and it’s a way to be outdoors and exercising.   For Boston I ran with a team called Team with a Vision which is a group of blind and sight impaired runners who mostly were way faster and way more inspirational than me.  There were some incredible athletes in that group,  one being a 28 year old named Chaz Davis who lost his sight at age 19 and who at 23 set the world record for a marathon by a blind person with a 2.31 time.  Guides like Ed and Sarah make this possible for people like Chaz and I.  Boston was a magical experience. Nothing like it in running competition.  The whole town is supporting you. 

- Bill Sciannella

Having the opportunity to run the Boston Marathon was an incredible experience and inspirational in so many ways. My wife Sarah and I both felt energized by the entire event; it encompasses so much more than just the elite runners you see racing on TV.  Between the amazing stories of the para and adaptive runners that we spent the weekend with -- to the numerous charity runners who raise millions of dollars for amazing causes -- the entire event is a celebration of the challenge of running and the power of the human spirit.  We both feel incredibly fortunate to have been able to witness it all first hand. 

-Ed  Beach

Mariachis and Peripatetic Meetings: Huh?

The morning was a beautiful one. We had just finished Running Medicine and I took a swig of water and began the 6-mile trek toward home. On foot, of course.

About halfway there, I caught up with Tim, a member of the Running Medicine community. I had talked with his wife earlier in the day and was told that Tim was a trumpeter in a mariachi group. I was thinking of new excitement we might bring to our Thanksgiving Day Gratitude Run/Walk/Bike, and having the sound of a mariachi band playing as we start and serenading us as we start and finish seemed perfect.

So, poor Tim who was enjoying the solace of running in our Bosque alongside the Rio Grande River now was pulled into a meeting. Meeting agenda: me begging him and the band play for us on Thanksgiving. Neither of us broke stride or slowed down – this was simply incorporated into the run. It was a peripatetic meeting, one done while moving.

Tim's group, Mariachis Amigos de Nuevo Mexico. I think Tim is 2nd to the right - I only know him in running clothes, so hard for me to tell.

As I came into the house after the run, I announced that both my run home and my meeting had gone well. Kids and wife served up confused looks.

The term peripatetic is a transliteration of the ancient Greek word περιπατητικός (peripatētikós), which means "of walking" or "given to walking about". The Peripatetic school was founded by Aristotle, stemming from Aristotle's alleged habit of walking while lecturing.

I hold 3-4 of my meetings each week in a peripatetic fashion. Most as walking meetings, with my favorite “office” being the trail around our UNM North Campus golf course. I find that there is a connection built in the movement itself that is unique, something that doesn’t happen in a sit-down meeting. I also find that there is a creativity that happens with movement meetings. If I want to brainstorm ideas with someone, the chance that we will hit on something great over a walk/run is far greater than over coffee.

One of my favorite peripatetic meeting colleagues is the Navajo Nation President, Jonathan Nez. He is someone who has gone from a sedentary 300 lb leader to a slim ultra-marathoner. He knows the power of movement. Well, when President Nez and me set up a meeting, it is assumed it is going to be 5-6 miles along one of our local trails. I come to the trail with a full agenda, just as I would if I were meeting him in a board room. We discuss collaboration in our mutual interest of getting people more physically active, intermixed with family updates, upcoming races, and looking at our watches for updates on our pace and miles covered. Unlike all of the other people who leave meetings with President Nez in a sweat, I have a decent excuse for the dripping wet shirt.

When possible, I will even teach a peripatetic class, getting them to move with me. One memorable one was a physical therapy class that happened to occur during a snowstorm. My thought as I entered the classroom? “How am I going to convince these students to move with me, outside in the snow?” A few minutes later…well, the pic below tells you what you need to know.

Have fun exploring the possibilities of peripatetic meetings yourself. At work and at home. Try it in low doses initially and titrate up as needed. Celebrate your movement together as an immediate, measurable outcome of the meeting. “Meeting recap: we talked through the health fair logistics and budget…and got 2,200 steps.” Look out for the connection and creativity that come from this approach, whether meeting a friend, neighbor or a work colleague.

And if you are in Albuquerque on Thanksgiving, come be peripatetic with us at the Gratitude Run/Walk/Bike.

Thanks to my meeting with Tim, there will be mariachis.

Miss B: Update

The topic again surfaced this week at dinner.

Miss B.

Once a central part of our pandemic household, Miss B has disappeared.

“I wonder where she went?” our 3 year-old Sihasin asked between bites of pasta.

A little background:

It was a few months into the pandemic and Sihasin voiced that she wanted to go to school just like everyone else. She was feeling left out, seeing her siblings logging in each day to a world of learning while she was left behind. So Nizhoni, our oldest devised a plan. On times when she was not in school, she would sneak upstairs, put on a disguise, and become Miss B, personalized teacher for Sihasin. Let me explain that “disguise” was simply putting on a hat and sunglasses. I asked Nizhoni if she used a different voice as teacher, and she gave me a look. “Dad, that really isn’t necessary. I use my normal voice and I still don’t think she knows it is me.” (First blog on Miss B, September 2020).

Miss B, the teacher of all things a toddler could want to learn, was born. She began to expand her teaching her repertoire. Dance parties, guest teachers, arts and crafts projects. It was worthy of me giving a Miss B update in March 2021.

Shortly after that piece, Sihasin graduated to her own school at the UNM Children’s Campus. She was beyond elated to wear a backpack and have a school of her own.

Sadly, the requests for Miss B receded.

What is a teacher to do without a class to teach?

Where does a teacher find fulfillment when not in front of students?

We wondered these same things. Then, while riding in the car one day, the answer came in a surprising fashion. Miss B had simply adapted like the rest of us pandemic-beings, opening a new chapter in her life…appears she had gotten married as well.

North or South: Who will we choose to be today?

After soft landings

And warm laughter in Bosque Beauty

We circled together

Bringing that good medicine from each other

Giving our good medicine to the circle in return

 

We stood and contemplated one of life’s greatest challenges.

To the south we see water, trees, and tranquility. A falcon greeting us.

We pivot 180 degrees.

To the north we see cars, exhaust, concrete. A “Sonix” tempting us.

Feet in the same spot, but these two views are worlds apart.

 

Which will we choose today?

Bosque Beauty or Avenida Cesar Chavez?

When we find ourselves turning to the latter, can we find creative ways to gently turn gaze back to the former?

Will we trust life’s gifts (e.g. movement, prayer, community) to help us turn south when we feel a pull to the north?

In these questions lies the deeper one:

                                                Who will we choose to be today?

For those who weren't there for our Running Medicine walk/run on Saturday, a little context for the above piece. We moved in a beautiful place in Albuquerque known as the Bosque, set by the Rio Grande River. We visited a patch of yerba mansa, an herbal medicine shown in the picture above as we got our medicine through walking and running. When we circled together to stretch, we were in an interesting spot. To our south, we could see water, trees and the Bosque Beauty we had just immersed ourselves in. And to the north of us, a concrete landscape known as Avenida Cesar Chavez. We stood in one spot, but contemplated together how the simple act of turning to the south or to the north changed our lens on where we were drastically. You are welcome to join us for a walk/run anytime - https://runningmedicine.org  

The Race Continues...

I have talked about finish lines a lot in the 18 months of this blog. Most recently, Billy Mills crossing the line as an Olympic champion and Weini Kelati in the race to become a U.S. Citizen.

There was also a piece in February 2021 about the pandemic as a race, one where the finish line wasn’t quite clear.

Skip to the present.

We felt we had just about finished the race.

We could almost reach out and touch the finish line tape.

We could smell and taste the sweetness of being done.

Masks started to gather dust, lonely and forgotten.

In May and June, I remember referring to the pandemic in the past tense a few times. I always caught myself, but at the same time it did seem that it was more and more acceptable to do so. All signs pointed toward a receding virus as life opened back to normalcy.

Like a well-written play, delta emerges from stage left, disrupting the stillness as the crowd (us!) gasps in horror.

Let’s sit with this for a moment.

It is hard to be so close to the finish and then have the race extended. I don’t hear people acknowledging this. Instead, I hear anger, fear, exhaustion, and people struggling. Myself included.

By recognizing how hard it is to feel that the finish is so close and then have the race extended indefinitely we can begin to accept it. We can then move to processing it. And once processed, we can begin to heal and move forward.

Putting on my doctor hat:

The patient: all of us.

The diagnosis: "3rd Wave Distress Syndrome"

The prescription:

 Recognize, process, and accept the challenge this 3^rd COVID wave presents

        Get away from looking for the finish line in these months ahead.

                Each day, do our part to keep COVID from winning.

                        Breathe deep and give thanks for the day’s gifts.

                                Keep moving.

Cicada Wisdom

 

We made it east for a late summer vacation.

Over the last months, we had heard the buzz about the cicadas (one bad pun per blog entry allowed). Every 13 to 17 years, these harmless insects come out from the ground to mate. Supposedly, the noise from these creatures reached an ear piercing 120 dB, louder than a jet aircraft or a jackhammer. People were posting pics, videos, and even recipes of cicada delicacies.

My mom was so excited, she had saved us a collection of these beautifully mysterious insects. On our phone calls leading up to our trip she would remind us that she had (dead) cicadas to show us.

“Great, mom. Can’t wait.” Luckily, she couldn’t see my facial expression. Meanwhile, my kids were jumping up and down for the opportunity to see grandma’s dead bugs.

Well, we didn’t see live cicadas. They were well on their way to burrowing in the ground until 2038 when they will emerge again.

But there was a curious thing we did see. Trees that looked perfectly healthy with brown ends of their branches. Being a New Mexican and a physician, I immediately diagnosed the problem as either a lack of water or some fungal/parasitic disease afflicting the tree population.

It was neither.

The browning of the trees was in fact a phenomenon called “flagging”. It turns out that the cicada females lay eggs in the smaller end branches of trees. This leads to a natural pruning of the tree and as the branch breaks off and falls to the ground, the cicada eggs get a free ride to the dirt to live for the next 17 years.

                                                        An example of flagging

I thought about flagging and what it can teach me and all of us.

Heading into a 3^rd wave of covid, we probably have some dead branches on the surface. We might be ashamed by how this looks to the world. We might even pathologize un-necessarily, thinking of these as a sign of disease, drought, etc.

Beyond looking into the mirror at ourselves, we probably notice some dead branches in the people and community around us. Again, eyesores that might make us wonder if all is well…or if all will ever be well again.

Nature, and particularly the billions of cicadas that came out to play in 2021, are reminding us that flagging is necessary, a normal part of life’s hum. It brings about new life, both for the tree and the insect world. Flagging helps shed stuff that needs to let go of, dropped to the ground. And that seemingly dead branch that has fallen is actually bringing new life through the cicada it carries to its burrowing spot in the soil.

And this process of flagging is not bothered by the mega-quick Instagram/Twitter speed of our current world. In social media time, the dead branch would fall off and sprout new life in seconds. Our personal and societal flagging that will bring new life and new ways may be on a much longer time course, like our cicada relatives. Well, hopefully not a full 17 years…

The Power of Perception

Today, in heat and humidity in Tokyo, the men's 10,000 meter race will take place.

Let's time travel for a moment.

The year was 1964, the last time the summer Olympics were held in Tokyo prior to this year. 

An unknown American was in that race. Billy Mills, hailing from the Lakota Nation, entered the race with a personal best that was a minute slower than the world record holder Ron Clark who was the favorite to win. Mills had suffered discrimination and hardship throughout his life, including losing his mother when he was 8 years old. He reflected on advice from his father during the mourning over losing his mother:

"My dad told me I had broken wings. He said, 'I am going to share something with you and if you follow it, someday you may have the wings of an eagle. Look beyond the hurt, the hate, the jealousy, the self-pity. All of those emotions destroy you'. 

He said, 'Look deeper, way down deeper where the dreams lie. You've gotta find a dream, son'. It is the pursuit of a dream that will heal broken souls."

Cut to the race. 

Last lap. 

Mills has stuck with two other runners who are now battling it out as a trio. He survives being tripped and almost falling to the ground with about 350 meters to go. Of note, the American announcers on the call ignore Mills and focus on the other two runners (from Tunisia and Australia), as if they don't see him right there in the mix.

And then, out of seemingly nowhere and with seemingly no time left to catch up, Mills puts on a sprint that made the other two look as if they were frozen in time. 

With a few seconds to go, Billy Mills passes into first. He wins, the first American to win the Olympic 10,000 meters, and to this day the only one to win at that distance. Close to a minute better than his previous best.

Mills recounts something beautiful in these last 15 seconds of the race:

"As I go by the runner, out of the corner of my eye, in the center of his jersey, I saw an eagle. It was so powerful...back to my dad. 'Son, if you do these things, someday you can have the wings of an eagle.' I have got to do it now! Wings of an eagle! I won! I won!"

I go to find the runner with the eagle on his singlet to tell him that the eagle helped me win. I found him. There was no eagle [on his singlet]. It was just the perception.

I feel so strongly that perceptions can create us. Our perceptions can destroy us. We can choreograph our journey."

The power of perception. What we may discount as visions, as delusions, as hallucinations may be life bringing us to something bigger, better than we ever imagined. The eagle Billy Mills saw was as real as it needed to be. It allowed him to push to a level he might not have found and connected him to something greater. It displaced all doubt and uncertainty and focused him on the finish line ahead.

When we see that eagle on the metaphoric shirt in front of  us, may we simply have the courage to dig deep and say as Mills did, "I have got to do it now!"

Video of Mills talking about the Tokyo race (above) and a story from WBUR in Boston 

that was the inspiration for this piece here.

Room 11

We had a great conversation throughout the telehealth visit.

Maybe one of the best of my week.

John seemed to really appreciate our time together.

We got ready to close the visit, something I still find a bit awkward over the phone. No body language to rely on or to which I can react.

You would think Zoom would be better, but I still find the closing of a Zoom meeting or visit even more strange. You say bye, but you don’t want to click “end meeting” too quick, as this could be taken as your desire to get outta there FAST. Like in the pre-COVID world if you sprinted for the door.

But even worse is when neither party makes that “end meeting” click. You find yourselves staring at one another in a kind of middle school dance weirdness. Staring at each other, no longer in a meeting but also still there together. Staring. Awkward. Weird.

Back to John.

I wished him a wonderful day. About to hang up the phone.

“Doc, do I just leave the room myself?”

Huh?

“Do I just let myself out?”

Huh?

“I am in room 11 in your clinic.”

Huh?

In a COVID-ain’t-quite-done-yet moment, I had had a 20 minute telephone conversation with someone who was sitting on the other side of the wall, in my clinic. With all of my patients prior to John being telehealth visits that morning, I had missed the nursing triage paperwork that clearly said “Room 11” when it came to seeing John.

We laughed. John at me. Me at me.

I got up and went to room 11. We laughed some more. A hug and then I walked him out of the clinic.

We all find ourselves in similarly strange, awkward, and hilarious moments as we emerge from the depths of the pandemic. Meetings where we don’t know if masks are required. Events where we have to clarify if it is in-person or virtual. I imagine your weekly planner is as messy as mine – “9:30am meeting, in-person. Wear a mask for this one”.

Smile, don’t frown, when this week’s COVID-ain’t-quite-done-yet moments smack you in the face. This is our reality for the next 6-12 months. A good sign that things are returning to normal, even if awkward or embarrassing.

Shoot, it can’t be any worse than me hearing John say, “I am in room 11 in your clinic.”

Weini's Race

The day we met Weini, we knew she was a special person.

The setting was a UNM indoor track meet.

Weini Kelati, a runner for the Lobos had just set a meet record in the mile run.

She stepped off the track, caught her breath and then proceeded to sit with our Running Medicine youth for the next 15 minutes. Topics included Jo Jo Siwa, favorite foods and the reasons why we run.

Weini continued to excel, winning national championships in track and cross country. But she never stopped coming to share her energy and time with our group.

The day the pandemic hit in March 2020, she was prepared to win a few more NCAA titles as UNM was to host the indoor national championships. Teams had already arrived in Albuquerque for the meet, but the meet never happened. Facing uncertainty this fall of whether racing would happen during her senior year, she signed with Under Armour, joining the select few who get to run professionally.

Our Native Health Initiative had a chance to pay her back somewhat this spring, hosting her for her practicum in health education as she worked toward a college degree. In exchange, we had a professional runner hanging out with us, running with our youth in the Running Medicine program. Not a bad trade.

Two weeks ago, Weini has a week like no other. The U.S. Olympic Trials were well underway in Eugene, Oregon and yet she still did not know if she would be running. Not an issue of whether she was fast enough. Not a controversy like the ones we see play out in sports. The issue was the Weini was not a U.S. Citizen and would have to gain citizenship in order to toe the line.

Her 10k race was on Saturday, June 26^th. As of Wednesday morning, she was still a citizen of Eritrea where she emigrated from at age 17. In a flurry of activity, she was allowed to sit for a citizenship test and take an oath Wednesday afternoon. But it was Friday evening before all of the other technicalities were completed and she was approved to run in the meet.

We were fortunate enough to be part of her welcoming party in Eugene, complete with signs we made for her. Yes, we wanted to see her win but we knew she had already won with U.S. Citizenship that had been such a long process for her.

We were in the front row cheering her on in a brutal 25-lap race run in brutal heat. She dropped out after staying with the first pack for the first miles.

So, she won’t be representing our country in Tokyo this summer, but Weini has a blindingly bright future ahead of her. Excited to continue to cheer her on as she cheers on others.

Pic with Weini (far right) and another former Lobo Edna Kurgat 

(also racing the 10k at U.S. Olympic Trials), Eugene, Oregon

Video of our family presenting Weini with the homemade posters in Eugene the day before the 10k race.

https://www.facebook.com/runningmedicineabq/videos/170358651734724/

Washington Post article about her journey the week of the Olympic Trials

Weini Kelati becomes a U.S. citizen just in time for a Tokyo Olympics bid - The Washington Post

The Sweetness of the Present (and Mulberries)

They bring me so much joy.

Sweetness of life embodied in a carefully designed package.

Providing caloric bliss on long runs in the Bosque.

Machinations each spring on how to harvest them better than the year before.

 

Mulberries!

Each spring, I am excited for the simple pleasure of these mini-blackberry creations. There is something deep in our genetic code about picking something right from the source and popping it into your mouth. Even more so when it grows wild and doesn’t need careful cultivation from us humans.

My cerebral cortex, in an area just adjacent to one filled with medical algorithms, has a clear map of all of the mulberry sources, with sticky notes about the nuances of each tree/bush bearing this fruit.

Tree on Campbell Rd, midway between Rio Grande Blvd and Bosque, south side of road – solid source of mulberries, early bloom, candidate for step-ladder approach with tarp underneath, as lowest branches are too high to reach from the ground. Great spot to visit with my kids for harvesting while on bike rides.

Bush at UNM Health Sciences Center, lower level plaza, southwest end of library – early harvest, great for access. Recently saw raccoon atop the bush which did make me wonder if I should keep gorging on the fruit. Still a solid source to explore each spring.

Recently, as I finished eating with my kids from a mulberry tree close to campus that may have the best fruit of them all, hands and mouth purple-stained, shoes dyed with splashes of berry juice, I thought greedily about taking some home.

Now, the one thing about the mulberry part of my brain is that memory and cognition are not quite operating the way they do in the adjacent “medical algorithms” section. So, I ignored what I knew from previous years and started stuffing the extra fruit in a makeshift mulberry bin.

We got home, and excited for a second serving, I reached into the bag to find a mushy mess. Even by taste, there just wasn’t that “bang” I remembered from plucking them from the tree hours earlier. Gone was the thrill of picking the berries with my kids in a game of who can get messiest. A big letdown, just like every year in the past.

Mulberries remind us of the beauty of the present.

They teach us to embrace life without needing to possess it.

Embrace the sweetness of each moment today.

When you come upon the mulberry moments of your travels, take a few deep breaths to appreciate it all. Listen to life at that moment. Feel your heart beating in joy. Leave your phone in your pocket – as with mulberries, hoarding more than one can eat at the source usually disappoints.

 

Something Else

 It might have seemed to the newsroom staff an innocuous choice of words.

CNN, in the heat of the 2020 Presidential election season, put up a poll listing racial groups.

In the Native American community, the idea of being “something else” hit a chord. A group of people who have struggled for recognition ever since Europeans’ arrival, “something else” was far more than a grammatical error, a semantic mis-step. It was another blow to a people treated for 500+ years as less-than, not good enough. (Link to local article on the response to the incident)

Indigenous creative minds got to work. There was a call for the Washington Football Team to be named the “Washington Something Elses”. You heard things like, “It’s a good day to be something else.”

I am honored to share an artistic response to this moment. Art as protest. Art as resilience. Art speaking what words cannot.

Mallery Quetawki is a friend, a colleague and an incredible artist from Zuni Pueblo. She shared this piece and her reflections on what was behind the art. Take in the art and let it speak to you for two minutes. Breathe it in. Soak it in. Hear its message. Then, take a look at Mallery’s own words.

Mallery, my sister, like all of your art, this piece is indeed…something else!!! Wow!!!

 

I sit here and think what my feelings were when I created the "Something Else" painting.  I was more amused that folks can still get away with marginalizing our communities even when our presences is ever so loud nowadays.  I felt that there needs to be a reminder of who lived, loved and died on the soils of America before it was America.  Just the idea that our identities and our tight knit societies are so romanticized like it only happens in the movies or when they talk about our people they say things like "were" or "was" in a past tense like we aren't living that way at all anymore, is what sparked the idea of utilizing technology, ancient art practices and a small amount of protest.  We may be assimilated to western society in material manners, education and social systems but we are still very much tied/entwined to the ancient way, which is something embedded in all our circuits and throughout our cells and helixes.  More of a warning shot that we are rising up and being louder and being just as educated as our colonizers that these "something elses" have power to add to the circuits of the American Machine. We are no longer standing idle but taking on endeavors that take us to places such as the Department of the Interior and taking seats and saving the open ones around us one Pendleton (blanket) at a time.

Pandemic Positives

I had a crazy thought. 

Each time I walked into a room to see a patient, I would ask them a question that would be more in line with this blog than with the usual “Where does it hurt?” and “What’s wrong with you?” taught in medical school.

Remember that the room” I was walking into was often a virtual room (seeing a patient via Zoom) or an audio room for a telephone visit. Occasionally a live human-to-human masked encounter.

Now, all crazy thoughts are best implemented with a co-conspirator. In this case, I enlisted a wonderful medical student Rachel Rose. For her, it was kind of a “wrong place at the wrong time” type of moment. For me, it was all I needed to turn the crazy thought into action.

The question: “What is a positive that has come for you and/or your family from the pandemic?”

Before any talk about labs, blood sugars or disease, Rachel and I asked our patients this simple question.

Here is what they told us, un-edited. A reminder for all of us, especially as the depths of the pandemic fade away, not to lose the precious lessons this last year has offered us.

The responses: 

I floss my teeth now. I actually have the time to floss.

Keeping in mind that 'this too shall pass'. This has been a test and a trial but I am a person of faith so I believe whatever is unhappy or uncomfortable, it is all going to be okay. We have been through something really big together. This can be an unifying event if we take it that way and look at that way.

I have more time to spent my nephews and great nephew. One of my nephews lives with me and he keeps me company. I have a lot of company.

Spending more time with my wife and helping her around the house. It was just me and her around the house. We have been married for years but I got to know her better and learn more about her. I learned more about what she needs and what she wants and she learned about me too. You could be married for 30 years but don't know much about one another until spending 24/7 together.

I get to spend much more time with my daughter than I did prior to the pandemic. 

I have been able to invest time into something I love, building a garage gym. I have also had the time to show my grandparents I truly love and care about them. Delivering groceries is a lot different than simply saying hello over the phone.

I have realized that I don't have to be rushing around. We can relax as a family and things will still get done. This has been a really good change for me and for our family.

The pandemic has given me the opportunity to put more time into my home and garden. 

I have not let the pandemic slow me down. I still give to others. I pick up food boxes from the food bank and give them out to my neighbors. I know some neighbors now that I didn’t know before the pandemic.