Mind Full

   Not long ago I posted a few musings about things I didn't quite understand; in that particular instance the subject was the Congressional approval to open once-safe havens for wildlife --places termed refuges whose definition would be exactly that, a place where wildlife would seek refuge-- into areas now open to the hunting of wildlife, both adult and those just-born such as pups and cubs.  There's more of course, including the Senate's recent allowance of big companies such as Verizon and Comcast and AT&T to view and retain and track your browsing history, something once available only to law enforcement or national security but now possibly able to be sold for advertising purposes (this means that cache and history from searching things on the Internet which you feel you've successfully deleted but --as with the movies-- can still be accessed years later, all those texts and images and searches sent over fiber optic lines and satellite routers which are oops, primarily owned by Verizon, Comcast and AT&T).  Yup, the Senate just voted to remove many of the consumer protection laws and instead give those companies the rights to sell and pass along your viewing habits and history to other advertisers (or in some instances, to charge higher rates for those using higher amounts of data)...privacy, gone.  Hmm, as with the opening of the wildlife refuges, the majority party is able to do this by changing the laws under what's termed The Congressional Review Act (and have already announced that if the recent Supreme Court nominee is blocked by the opposing party, they will also seek to change those rules blocking him to get him approved).  But wait...whatever side you may be on and perhaps understanding or not understanding how all this could be happening, I came to realize that whatever my views were, that there was another whole side (both Congressional and otherwise, meaning nearly half of the United States) which felt that the changes that were happening were the right thing to so.  Just as in a sporting event, there was a side that was now currently winning and a side that was now currently losing; so no matter how I personally felt --that the climate was changing and that we shouldn't be burying oil pipelines near water tables or cutting down boreal forests just to get some tarry and excessively-polluting oil-- well, was I merely so blinded by that thinking that I couldn't see their viewpoint, much less that they were likely only approving all of these changes because they indeed felt that all of this was necessary "for the good of the people."

    Here's how attending physician* Dr. Ronald Epstein put some of this thought in his recent book simply titled Attending on listening to a patient's side of the story: Accompanying is particularly important with the patients I don't understand and those who, on the surface, I don't particularly like -- those who yell at me, don't tell the trouth, or complain then reject the help I offer.  Like anyone else, I can feel angry and frustrated, but trying to understand patients in a deeper way --truly seeing them-- usually makes caring for them less difficult.  When being mindful, I recognize that my irritation is, in part, a signal that I don't understand them --or myself-- well enough.  My capacity to respond to the suffering of any patient depends on how well I can recognize that my imaginative projection of what the patient is experiencing is just that no more.  He then tells the of a professor who was visiting a Zen master to inquire about Zen:
    
                  The master served tea while the professor expounded about philosophy.  
                  When the visitor's cup was full, the master kept pouring.  Tea spilled out of    
                  the cup and all over the table.
                      "The cup is overflowing!" said the professor.  "No more will go in!"
                      "Like this cup," said the master, "you are full of your own opinions and
                  speculations.  How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup."

    Throughout the world there are changes happening, protests and disagreement, control and a lack of it being demonstrated, caring or not caring for those needing it, people happy or unhappy with what is happening.  Here in the U.S., the opposing side has (to me) scored several points and is now ahead in the game and I'm admittedly a bit dejected.   But perhaps if I would just look --really look-- over to the other side of the stands I would see an equal-in-number crowd cheering their now-winning team on and I should realize that it wasn't too long ago that they felt that same emotions that I'm now feeling.  They were once winning, then losing, then winning, then losing.  But the world is at stake, I might say...polluted air and water and secret pockets stashed with monies offshore somewhere, all at stake.  And they might reply, that that is exactly how we feel which is why we now need such changes.  Hmm, was/is my mind so locked in opinion and stuffed so full that I could not make room for another set of views?  As Dr. Epstein goes on to quote Zen master Suzuki Roshi, “If your mind is empty, it is always ready for anything, it is open to everything.  In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert's mind there are few. ”

    Dr. Epstein talks much of the role of a physician, of how having to always have answers and having to always fix the problem can sometimes put pressure and blind a doctor into tuning out.  This is what it has to be, or take this set of pills, or come back and see me in a week...often a one-sided view despite good intentions.  As he writes when he himself becomes a patient (a baseball-sized incidentaloma is discovered in his liver): Now I understood what it felt like to have all of the facts yet be unable to decide -- and how different it was to be on the other side of the stethoscope.  My rational mind and emotional mind were at war.  Rationally, I knew that one-third of the population has some kind of incidentaloma if you look hard enough, and that over 90 percent of these are benign -- and that mine had all the characteristics of a benign tumor.  But it didn't help to hear about other people's incidentalomas because mine was mine.  I was living with uncertainty -- and it was different from anyone else's.

    Uncertainty.  None of us can know what is going to happen.  The scientists can tell us that things may get worse or that we're passing a point of no return and that glaciers are melting; but here in my home state the snows have arrived like gangbusters and the thousands of skiers hitting the slopes are likely not worried about melting glaciers, at least not at the moment.  Big trucks far outnumber natural gas or hybrid vehicles in miles traveled and fuel consumption (you'll have to scroll through the tables to view the numbers correctly) and what runs those...oil.  Save the boreal forests or miss your flight?  Do we really need to think about that now?  So my "team" is losing, but someone else's team is winning and perhaps it's as simple as me stopping to just ask why is that?  Did my "side" do something wrong?  Or should I just go over to the other side and ask.  Do you have a moment?  Can you tell me about your beliefs and thoughts?  And when that person perhaps turns and asks about my own thoughts and beliefs, I might discover in my answer that the divides we thought we had might be smaller than we think...but first, we will need to make room, to empty our minds, to be receptive.  It's not a new approach...it's just what we call being mindful of the other person.


*In his words: In medicine, the senior physician responsible for a patient's case is called the attending physician, or just "the attending."  The attending's responsibility is to direct the clinical team's attention to the most important things, take charge, make the patient feel attended to, and provide attentive care.  Attending means showing up, being present, listening, and accompanying patients when it matters most.