Football Symphony

Sitting on the couch tonight watching the Olympics, I had a little conversation with myself that went something like this...

Me: "Gah, my body hurts."
Body: "We played football Friday night."
Me: "No we didn't."
Body: "Yes we did. You got tackled. That's why it hurts all over."
Me: "We went to the symphony, there is no tackling at the symphony. It was a lot of walking for me, that's all. I had to go up three flights of stairs after walking two city blocks because we parked in the wrong lot."
Body: "So it was a football symphony? Cause you got tackled... hard."
Me: "There were zero tackles!"
Body: "Did you say lots of tackles? Cause it was lots."
Me: "None!"
Body: "Lots. That's why your back is all messed up."
Me: "So what, the woodwind section didn't like the color of my tie so one of them whacked me in the back with a flute?"
Body: "Don't be silly, it was an oboe. A flute wouldn't do that much damage. Oboes are heavier."
Me: "This is ridiculous. You're ridiculous."
Body: "Yeah well you're stuck with me. You shouldn't have done all that weightlifting."
Me: "Oh is that why my arms are sore? Because of all the musical bench presses in the middle of the concert hall?"
Body: "Yep."
Me: "Nope."
Body: "Yep."
Me: "Okay smart guy, then why does my neck hurt? I was just sitting there listening to music."
Body: "Because of all the punching."
Me: "So my neck hurts because I was getting punched in the back of the head during Tchaikovsky's violin concerto?"
Body: "Yeah. You should take better care of yourself. Letting people punch you repeatedly is bound to be a bad experience."
Me: "Thanks for the tip."
Body: "You are welcome. And here's another one: don't do so many one-armed pull ups."
Me: "My arms are sore from clapping. Seriously... clapping."
Body: "Why would you clap after getting tackled so hard you can barely walk? Who claps when that happens to them?"
Me: "It's YOUR fault I can barely walk today, you aren't doing your job!"
Body: "My job would be a lot easier if you didn't work part time as a Hollywood stuntman."
Me: *sigh*

Stress

When stress levels skyrocket...

• You consciously tell yourself everything is going to be okay. 
• You start thinking about the steps to take care of the source(s) of the stress. 
• You try to relax and think happy, zen-like thoughts. 
• Maybe you do something to distract yourself for a while so you don't worry as much.

And then your body says:

"Yeah um... screw YOU buddy, you can't fool me! I know what's going on, and I'm gonna let you know I'm not happy about it."

Ohh well. Some things you just can't control-- no matter how many books you've read, or downward dogs you've performed. Sometimes all we can do is take a deep breath, and try again tomorrow!

Life is lived one day at a time and to be honest,
I have grown to be really glad it's that way.

America the Beautiful

  Some people watch the Super Bowl just to see the multi-million dollar commercials. As for me, I am an avid football fan so I enjoy the part with the green grass and shiny helmets. I like the commercials as much as the next guy though, especially the ones that make me laugh.

  During the big game last Sunday, a commercial for CocaCola aired, featuring a multilingual rendition of the song America the Beautiful:

  Seeing the smiling faces of these our brothers and sisters in the human family and hearing their voices raised in a song of patriotic gratitude, brought a tear to my eye... for more than one reason.

--------------------------------------------------

  The primary reason this music touched me is because it is a fitting tribute to the cultural diversity of our great nation. America is an amazing place, full of amazing people who have come here in search of freedom, safety, and happiness. This video reminds me of the ideal represented by the Statue of Liberty. There is an historic plaque at the base of the statue, which bears the following inscription:

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

  This quote comes from the sonnet, New Colossus, by Emma Lazarus; which she wrote for a fundraiser auction to raise money for the pedestal upon which the Statue of Liberty now sits. Take a moment to appreciate the true meaning of each phrase of this eloquent prose-- it is our nation's heritage; a legacy that must be preserved; a philosophy worthy of having a statue erected in it's honor.

  Joseph Pulitzer (of the Pulitzer Prize) believed in the Statue of Liberty project so much, he opened up the editorial pages of his newspaper, "The World" to support fund raising efforts.

--------------------------------------------------

  The second reason seeing this Super Bowl ad brought a tear to my eye is because I knew immediately that some people would reject the heart-warming sentiment of it's message, purely because those in the commercial were singing in their native language, some wearing the traditional garb of their culture.

  Sadly, it didn't take long for my prediction to come true. One sample of what could be found spreading across social media like a wildfire the next day:

  Is it just me, or is it incredibly ironic that one of those guys has a last name so ethnic, I honestly can't pronounce it? These individuals make me wonder how many people recall that everyone in the United States who is not of native American decent, comes from immigrant roots at some point. So it turns out that maybe their attitude is not so much narcissism, as it is self-loathing. Weird.

  And remember the Statue of Liberty I was just talking about? It was a gift from France. Perhaps the most iconic representation of American idealism (other than the flag, and the constitution itself) was made in France by French speaking Frenchmen. When sculptor Frederic Auguste Bartholdi, and engineer Alexandre Gustave Eiffel (designer of the Eiffel Tower) were over here helping us put Lady Liberty together, guess what they were doing? Speaking French on American soil... GASP!

  I lived on the east coast for a while, and one of my favorite things about living there was how you could randomly come across entire neighborhoods full of Italians, or Greeks, or Jamaicans; it was awesome. The variety of people, cultures, and cuisine was really fun to be around. I had a great time getting to know so many cool people while I was there.

  Ignorance of America's immigrant heritage is one thing, hateful intolerance is another. Ignorance can be remedied with education. Intolerance is much more difficult to correct... especially if it has become culturally entrenched. In addition to those racist tweets, the caption at the top of the graphic is an unfair assumption. Despite the recent history of some Republican politicians publicly issuing some rather cringe-worthy statements, the individual who put this graphic together could have done so without making further judgements about who those twitter users are, beyond the obvious bigotry present in their messages.

Like Mom always said:  two wrongs don't make a right.

  The more I hear the popular political narratives people are constantly repeating, and the more I observe the way we treat each other on a day to day basis in our society... the more I think we need to be careful about how far we take our ideological debates. My heart sinks at the thought of how cruel some people still are to anyone who doesn't look like them, or sound like them. I find it genuinely frustrating to see unmitigated racism on display right here in the land of "The American Dream".

On July 4th, 1776, the United States Declaration of Independence proclaimed:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

--------------------------------------------------

  So anyway, we need to pay careful attention to the messages we spread. Once you release an idea into the wild, you can no longer control the effect it has. We live in the information age, it would be easy to take for granted the tremendous power of communication that present day technology affords us.

  We each have the power to choose what kind of karma we are going to put out there into the universe. We can choose to look for the beauty in life, instead of finding reasons to indulge selfishness, judgement, and discrimination. We can choose to live by the golden rule.

  The world is a wondrous place, full of wonderful human beings; it would be a shame to look right past the smiling faces who truly make America the beautiful place that it is.

Heavy Heart, But It's Okay

  Do you ever have days where your heart is just heavy, weighed down with the cares of the world? It may sound cheesy, but I am having that kind of day today. I just need to vent a little, and that is one of the benefits of having your own space to share your thoughts, so here I am.

  Even if nobody were to read this, I am grateful that I have a way of letting things out when my heart and mind are too full. I need some breathing room, and writing is one way for me to free up some valuable space; especially considering that there is a never ending flow of inbound data.

  I am an avid observer, it's just the way I am wired. I continually notice complex details all around me, often without even meaning to. I constantly watch the way people interact. I silently dissect the way the world works, even when no one knows I am "recording". I subconsciously make mental notes of everything I experience, everything I feel, and everything I see others feel.

  I care about the unfortunate and painful things that people endure, in a way that typically leaves me stuck pondering the challenges we face "out there" in everyday life. My hope is to pay attention to the careless things we say, or the unfair judgments we make. I feel a deep empathy for the times when people smile even though they are struggling on the inside.

  I think about what I see, more than I probably should. My memory is predominately photographic, allowing me to recall a snapshot of a past experience and review it in depth. This made school especially easy for me growing up, but as an adult it means I often get stuck trying to solve the world's problems as I play them back in my head. For better or worse, pondering the ups and downs of the human race in a "big picture" sort of way is part of my everyday life. This propensity to viewing the world as a series of vivid images, intricately connected to vibrant visions of what could be, very easily becomes quite overwhelming.

  Consequently, I am also painfully aware of my own faults and mistakes. I know I have made my fair share of contributions to the debt of regrettable karma in the world. But despite that humbling fact, I sometimes reach a point where I have seen too much of judgment, too much of people being unkind to each other, too much of selfishness and impatience, too much of injustice and inequality, too much of cynicism and condescension.

  My heart aches with the simple observation that compassion is an increasingly rare commodity in the world. I passionately believe in the idea that we need only to make a conscious choice to be more compassionate, in order to begin making a difference in the life of the people we come in contact with. We really can make a difference in the world, one person at a time; I know this firsthand because of the special people who have touched my life in unforgettable ways.

  Think of a time when another person brightened your day, whether they realized it or not... and it meant more to you at the time than they might ever know- you have the same power to make the world a better place for someone. We have more power to lift each other up than we realize. And the most important place to start making a difference, the most profound place to focus our energy is right in front of us when we look in the mirror. We should be kinder to ourselves as well.

  Everyone has a story-- everyone has battles they are fighting, and many of them are not visible. Whether for my own trials or those of others, I sometimes feel child-like tears welling up inside with nowhere to go. Childhood has an innocence about it that has not yet learned to be afraid of being ourselves. Children tend to be openly honest in expressing whatever they are feeling.

  I usually feel too self conscious to really let my wounds show, even around people who care about me and have repeatedly encouraged me to do so. Admittedly, it feels embarrassing to speak "out loud" about needing a good cry once in a while.

  In many cultures, it is generally more socially acceptable for women to show their emotions. But male or female, people tend to be reluctant to share our truly vulnerable moments with each other; sometimes even with people we are close to. I spend a lot of time and effort doing my best to be strong and keep a positive energy about me, and that's a good thing when done in a healthy way.

  These days I make it a point to keep reminding myself: "You only live once! Keep doing everything you can to embrace the journey, and learn something from every experience." It reminds me of a classic line from the movie Braveheart, when William Wallace says: "Every man dies, not every man really lives."

  Today I have a heavy heart, and that is okay. Today is a day to let myself feel, so I can keep up the good work of being strong; I know it is part of living this life, of embracing the journey. I am determined to keep learning, to continually strive to be better at facing the adventure head on-- with all of it's uncomfortable complexity, and surprisingly beautiful simplicity.

  So anyway, I think I feel a little better now. And if you identify with anything I just shared, then I hope you feel a little better too!  :)

Content To Move Ahead

  I was talking with a close friend yesterday, and we had a moment where we shared the realization that we are getting older. Granted, we are both in our thirties and so we are just beginning to feel the effects of aging, but getting used to the transition is still hard to accept sometimes. Grey hairs are starting to sneak in amongst the brown. Sleep no longer feels like an annoying delay in life-- the thought of resting and regenerating is a wonderful and welcome thing these days.

  Admittedly, my body has some extra challenges that have made me feel old before my time. But even on a good day, I can tell that my priorities have changed over the years. I have a growing appreciation for the lessons that life offers us each day. I would never want to give up the changes in perspective that have made me the person I am now, and I look forward with hopeful anticipation to continue growing into the person I have the potential to become.

  I am reminded of a poem written by a wise old man named Boyd K. Packer, a poem that took him three decades to write:

I had a thought the other night,
A thought profound and deep.
It came when I was too worn down,
Too tired to go to sleep.
I’d had a very busy day
And pondered on my fate.
The thought was this:
When I was young, I wasn’t 68!
I could walk without a limp;
I had no shoulder pain.
I could read a line through twice
And quote it back again.
I could work for endless hours
And hardly stop to breathe.
And things that now I cannot do
I mastered then with ease.
If I could now turn back the years,
If that were mine to choose,
I would not barter age for youth,
I’d have too much to lose.
I am quite content to move ahead,
To yield my youth, however grand.
The thing I’d lose if I went back
Is what I understand.

Ten years have flown to who knows where
And with them much of pain.
A metal hip erased my limp;
I walk quite straight again.
Another plate holds neck bones fast—
A wonderful creation!
It backed my polio away;
I’ve joined the stiff-necked generation.
The signs of aging can be seen.
Those things will not get better.
The only thing that grows in strength
With me is my forgetter.
You ask, “Do I remember you?”
Of course, you’re much the same.
Now don’t go getting all upset
If I can’t recall your name.
I would agree I’ve learned some things
I did not want to know,
But age has brought those precious truths
That make the spirit grow.
Of all the blessings that have come,
The best thing in my life
Is the companionship and comfort
I get from my dear wife.
Our children all have married well,
With families of their own,
With children and grandchildren,
How soon they all have grown.
I have not changed my mind one bit
About regaining youth.
We’re meant to age, for with it
Comes a knowledge of the truth.
You ask, “What will the future bring?
Just what will be my fate?”
I’ll go along and not complain.
Ask when I’m 88!

And now you see I’m 88.
The years have flown so fast.
I walked, I limped, I held a cane,
And now I ride at last.
I take a nap now and again,
But priesthood power remains.
For all the physical things I lack
There are great spiritual gains.
I have traveled the world a million miles
And another million too.
And with the help of satellites,
My journeys are not through.
I now can say with all certainty
That I know and love the Lord.
I can testify with them of old
As I preach His holy word.
I know what He felt in Gethsemane
Is too much to comprehend.
I know He did it all for us;
We have no greater Friend.
I know that He will come anew
With power and in glory.
I know I will see Him once again
At the end of my life’s story.
I’ll kneel before His wounded feet;
I’ll feel His Spirit glow.
My whispering, quivering voice will say,
“My Lord, my God, I know.”

  Ultimately, I feel this way too. I like 35 year old me a whole lot more than 25 year old me. And while I sorely miss playing basketball, and running, and skiing-- I would rather have the perspective that I have now, than have those other things and still think the way I thought when I was younger.

  So anyway, I know I still have a lot of aging left to do... I just hope that I too can maintain an attitude of learning, gratitude, and faith along the way.

Little Rays Of Hope

  You never know where little rays of hope are going to come from. I love discovering the uplifting little surprises that are out there, waiting to be found each day.

  Before my health became the crazy adventure that it is now, I took most of my pain-free days for granted... but not anymore. For the past few years I have lived every day in hopeful anticipation of the precious moments of peace and relief. I am so grateful for the support system I have now: proper medication, good doctors, a loving family, dear friends, and kind neighbors. But ironically, sometimes the moments of greatest relief are also the moments of greatest emotional torture.

Allow me to explain...

  Sometimes I find myself laying on the couch in too much pain to move, waiting for my meds to kick in. Then as the feeling of relief finally washes over me, something wonderful and sad happens:

Wonderful-- because I am genuinely grateful for every ounce
of peace and comfort that I am blessed with.

Sad-- because of the stark contrast between my "normal" and
suddenly bring reminded what it feels like to be pain free.

  It's hard to hold back the tears sometimes, as I sit there thinking to myself: "Oh man, I think I was actually starting to forget what it's like to feel good..." That is a harsh realization to accept. It's times like that when we have a chance to learn the importance of the little things: the beauty of the small victories, and the profound value of the seemingly mundane struggles.

And once in a while, a glimmer of hope breaks through the clouds...

  Yesterday the National MS Society published an interview with Dr. Ben Barres, Professor and Chair of Neurobiology at Stanford University's School of Medicine. Dr. Barres and his team are doing some amazing research in the area of nervous system repair:

  "My lab is focused on understanding the role of glial cells in the brain. There are two different types of glial cells: oligodendrocytes and astrocytes. Many of you may have learned that oligodendrocytes cover the nerve fibers with myelin, which is damaged by MS. But the astrocytes, in particular, are a very mysterious class of brain cell. Making up about 40% of cells in the brain, they’re large cells that each ensheath (or cover) thousands of synapses (points of contact through which a signal is transferred from one neuron to the next)."

  "The questions we’re asking in my lab are: What do the astrocytes do normally? And what do they do in diseases like MS? This has been one of the longstanding mysteries in neurobiology. Up until this point, we haven’t known what nearly half of our cells in our brain do. We know that neurons form the neural circuits, but what is the role of astrocytes in this process?"

  "When I started working on this 20 years ago, everyone thought astrocytes were just passive support cells that were cleaning up after the neurons. What we know now is that not only are astrocytes controlling synapse formation, but they also control the strength of synapses once they’re formed and the elimination of synapses. And we think that by better understanding astrocytes, we’re going to learn much more about how synapses work and how to rebuild synapses after injury."

  So instead of existing treatments which attempt to slow the demyelination process and/or suppress your immune system (scary), this new approach would have the body actually heal itself of the damage caused by neurodegenerative diseases like multiple sclerosis. A breakthrough like that could give millions of people their life back... it could resurrect broken dreams.

Dr.Barres continues:

  "In neurodegenerative diseases, including MS, newer studies have shown that in addition to white matter damage (demyelination) there is also grey matter damage, neuron cell bodies and synapses are actually degenerating as well. Initially the brain has the ability to rebuild myelin, and also lost synapses, but as the disease progresses the pace at which synapses degenerate may outpace the brain’s ability to repair lost synapses. At a certain point, some individuals move into the neurodegenerative phase, also known as secondary-progressive MS."

  "At this phase, axons degenerate – in part because they’re losing their myelin. But scientists are now realizing that synapses are also being lost at this time. And quite possibly these two processes are connected. If this is the case, we need medications that will not only rebuild myelin, but also prevent the loss of synapses or stimulate reformation of synapses. Therapies that block synapse loss may also block axon loss and help to promote remyelination. Our hope is that rebuilding synapses will rebuild the circuit and allow normal function of that circuit."

  We are SO blessed to live in a time when science is advancing by leaps and bounds. In many ways, mankind has made more progress in the last two hundred years than the previous two thousand. There is so much we still don't know, but that's okay because when we begin realizing how much we don't know-- that is when we are more likely to start asking the right questions.

  So anyway- I am excited for research like this to find new options for those who suffer through never-ending, unseen battles. And even if those answers don't happen in my lifetime, I hope the rest of the human race will be able to benefit from the work of these unsung heroes of science and medicine; brilliant minds who dedicate their life to finding answers for all of us.

  And those answers are worth the wait, because every ray of light matters... especially when you are fighting a foe that never takes a day off.