From knowledge to knowing

For decades my curiosity was fed. As a neuropsychiatrist and addiction medicine specialist, my mind was constantly engaged in the diversities of human behaviors and reactions (emotional and physiological). I was fascinated by how many medical and neurological issues masquerade as depression or anxiety or exaggerated stress responses—no wonder modern treatments fail so many people! For so many, anxiety wasn't the diagnosis, it was a symptom of something bigger. And I love nothing more than a good, deep dive.

Years prior, in my last year of residency, the chair of the department gave a lecture and mentioned how adults tend to be the happiest when they work at what they played as children. She then went around the conference table, asking each of my colleagues what they played growing up. The answers flew around quickly, with each person saying, "Doctor!" followed by giggles from our classmates. I was the last one. I thought about lying so the lecture could just move forward as intended, but as she looked at me I blurted out, "Charlie's Angels," and the room erupted in laughter. It didn't help that I already felt like an outsider. I recognized my thought process didn't follow the typical "tree" we were taught to follow (it never had). I was the college student who got in trouble in calculus for getting the right answer but solving the problem in a way the professor had never seen before, and I had to go to his office and argue over every exam grade. I had no understanding of anything he taught; I solved the problems in the way that made sense to my brain, and throughout my academic career I felt like I had to squeeze into a different way of thinking. It all culminated that day in the laughter of my friends and colleagues, some in tears at the ridiculous thought of me as one of Charlie's Angels. "Isn't it interesting," the chair of psychiatry interrupted, "how that is exactly what we do: solve mysteries of the mind." The room fell silent. It was the first time I felt empowered to be me.

Fast-forward twenty years to a highly specialized (three board certifications), successful, and massively burnt out human, stuck in a world of prior authorizations, a buzzing waiting room, and mounds of documentation required for every visit. I was literally listening and typing at the same time, just to squeeze a few more minutes of face time in with every patient.

While I loved solving problems, I was stuck behind the veil of the blank physician. The patient's time is valuable and expensive, and the relationship is one-way (as it should be). But I began to long for deeper authenticity. When I wrote my book, patients commented on how much I shared in it, how surprised they were, and how much my transparency helped them. My curiosity began to outgrow the confines of my education.

For years my body had been telling me to quit, but I didn't know how to listen. Like many, I was in survival mode. I had hefty student loans. I had to be logical, because I was 100 percent logical. Until one day, my body told me in no uncertain terms it is time to leave, there's something more. I finally listened, and an unplanned adventure unfolded in front of me. For years I've been following a bread crumb trail that has included dozens of books, unexpected synchronicities, my own spiritual mentoring, retreats, courses on the foundations of spiritual development, exploration into metaphysics. I've experimented with hypnotherapy, sound baths, different forms of meditation, dance. Exposing myself to the holy, the weird and the wild has helped me both expand and hone my comfort zone in terms of my unique background and approach to transformation that has touched all aspects of my being: the mental, emotional, physical and ethereal. From medicine that lacks soul, to mentoring that prioritizes it. What an unexpected journey indeed!