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Jarrod Shapiro, DPM
Practice Perfect Editor
Assistant Professor
Dept. of Podiatric Medicine
Surgery & Biomechanics
College of Podiatric Medicine
Western University of
Health Sciences
St. Pomona, CA |
A couple of days ago, I was awoken at 3:30 AM by my almost 2 year-old daughter. She doesn't sleep especially well, so this was by far nothing new for the nighttime routine in the Shapiro household. My daughter will do almost anything to stay out of bed, but this particular night, she woke up actually hungry. With both of us rubbing the tired out of eyes, we went downstairs to the kitchen.
 So, there we were, my daughter and I, she sitting on the counter with her legs hanging over the edge, eating a piece of bread, me standing in front of her. It was dark in the house, with nothing but the under-cabinet lights on to light our kitchen excursion. My daughter was quietly eating her bread with a particularly solemn and serious face, her large eyes looking at me…
And I had one of those rare feelings. It's hard to describe. It was one of those moments where I noticed what was happening – really noticed. I felt somehow outside of the moment, observing the situation from the outside, yet in it at the same time. I saw – I felt – the quiet, the darkness of night, the beauty of my daughter. I felt myself standing in front of her, at this moment in my life. As I said, it's very hard to describe, but it was a nice moment, a deep moment.
I've had this feeling several times in my life, as I'm sure many of you have. It's those moments when, for whatever reason, you stop and truly notice the world around you. I had this moment during a trip to Maui, Hawaii in a bamboo forest, and once in college sitting in my and my wife's tiny apartment during a beautiful summer's day in Flagstaff, Arizona.
I don't honestly know what triggers these feelings of increased or altered awareness. Perhaps it's the quiet and calm of the moment, the lack of physical action. During so many experiences, we're distracted, being a participant, with our attention directed so focally at whatever task is at hand. For example, I've never had this feeling while in the operating room. I presume it's because my attention is so sharply focused on the task at hand.
In my own experience, I have found two basic characteristics that have been uniformly present when reaching that state. First, situational calmness. The environment must be settled and quiet with few distractions. Second, the mind has to be present in the moment, receptive to the environment.
It's nice to have these moments. Thinking of this makes me wonder about the importance of quiet, meditative moments like these for our general health. Increasingly, research is showing an inverse link between meditative practices like yoga and mindfulness-based meditation and stress and anxiety, and a positive correlation with coping with diseases like cancer. Some physiological research has even hinted at biological mediators such as oxytocin in the modulation of the body's response to stress.
I’m certain future medical and basic science research will elucidate these processes to our benefit. For now, we can consider our own ways to tap into the part of our physiology that help us reach that special meditative state. Whether its meditation, yoga, running, or some other activity, each of us has the ability to reach that mental state that allows us to better appreciate life and those around us. We just have to be receptive to it when it comes. Enjoy your next enlightening experience. Ohm...
Best wishes.
Jarrod Shapiro, DPM
PRESENT Practice Perfect Editor
[email protected]
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