Good Thing, Bad Thing, Who Knows?

Recently, while planning summer activities, I came across an announcement for a classical music event in Santa Fe. As the event appeared to require proof of vaccination, I moved on and did not bookmark that page. In preparation for an upcoming visit to the Harwood Museum in Taos, I checked out the location’s website, which states that proof of vaccination is required for events in the Arthur Bell Auditorium at other ticketed events where noted.

In New Mexico, the COVID-19 public health orders ended on March 31. The federal public health emergency ended on May 11. I wrote a tweet expressing my surprise at the prolongation of vaccination and/or mask requirements and asked the question, “At what point are people going to call it a day?” (See below for three additional examples I found while I was preparing this piece).

My tweet garnered supportive responses, as well as some negative ones. If you’re going to step into the arena, you need to be prepared to take a few punches. Some commenters accused me of not caring about the health of others. This was exasperating–even somewhat depressing–to me.

There was a bit of irony to the comments about my disregard for other people’s health. In addition to the fact that I work in the mental health field, I write more frequently about health than about any other topic. My goal is to share information with those who are looking for alternatives to the mainstream medical paradigm. 

In January of 2022, I wrote about my thoughts about the COVID-19 response. I was frustrated because the public health measures had focused on defeating germs and not on supporting people’s health from the ground up.  

At times, persuading people to consider alternative approaches to health feels like an uphill struggle. Years ago, I told a friend, “If I have helped even one person, I will be satisfied.” 

The truth is that I have helped more than one. In thinking about the reactions to my tweet, I recalled a few examples:  

A GAPS Christmas story

In 2009, I was living and working in Toronto. I traveled frequently for work. On a flight, I met an HR manager from a large airline. She told me about an employee whose 10-year-old son had Crohn’s disease. The child required medication. “There are other options,” I thought. I went on to tell her about the GAPS diet and referred her to Dr. Tom Cowan, an alternative medicine doctor in private practice in San Francisco at that time. Dr. Cowan had helped a close family member of mine with Crohn’s disease. The HR manager thanked me for the information, and I soon forgot about the conversation.

Just before Christmas, I received an email from her. She wrote, “I am not sure if you remember me, but we met on a flight from Vancouver to Toronto back in October. We spoke about Crohn’s disease. I just wanted to let you know I recently spoke with the father whose son has Crohn’s disease. He just told me they are adjusting his [son’s] diet and it seems they are on the right track and he is doing REALLY REALLY well. They actually have taken him off the meds, which is a wonderful thing and the father is ecstatic. I just wanted to say thank you so much for all of the information and most of all your kindness.”  

Better with butter

Last year, I wrote an article about children’s nutrition and school performance. In that piece, I discussed the importance of animal fats, including butter, in the diet of children. A friend who is an educator and mother of two read my article. Her family had been cooking primarily with olive oil. My friend reported to me that, after she introduced quality butter into the family diet, her younger son, known for his sweet tooth, no longer craved sugary desserts and treats. 

Embracing terrain theory

A few weeks ago, one of my Twitter followers wrote, “I haven’t had to use antibiotics since August. I first heard about [terrain theory] from Katharine, and after discussing it with a friend, I realized that my family has always practiced it.”

Good thing, bad thing

When something happens to us, we are quick to label that experience as “positive” or “negative.” I am reminded of the old Sufi tale, Good Thing, Bad Thing, Who Knows, which I first heard from executive coach Dr. Srikomar Rao.  If we do not immediately label an event as “bad,” time may allow us to see a broader picture. A few people’s harsh responses to my tweet prompted me to consider how I have positively impacted the health of others. From an online kerfuffle, this blog post, my first in nearly a year, was born. 

I take heart from remembering these stories and wish all readers good health and a positive outlook. 

Disclaimer. All information in this article is solely the opinion of the author and for educational purposes only. No information in this article is intended as diagnosis, treatment, prescription, or cure for any health condition.

As of date of publication, the following events were requiring proof of vaccination and/or masks: 

Santa Fe International Literary Festival - May 19 - 21, 2023

Global Santa Fe activities (May 31, 2023)

Bonnie Raitt concert - September 17, 2023

© 2016-2023 Katharine Spehar. All rights reserved.

Image credit: Pixabay.com

Finding Hope at Fort Sumter

This weekend, we celebrate not only Independence Day but also the 159th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg.  

I am proud to count as one of my maternal ancestors a Union soldier killed at Gettysburg.  Corporal James S. Kent was a volunteer from New Hampshire; he belonged to the 2nd U.S. Sharpshooters, an unusual regiment consisting of specially-recruited expert marksmen. My family was fortunate to have kept some of James Kent’s original letters from the front lines. More than a century later, James’s patriotism and courage inspire me; when my own spirits have flagged over the last several years, I have pulled out my copies of his letters and reread his words. 

In the fall of 2021, I traveled from New Mexico to collect James’s letters from my uncle in Connecticut and hand-deliver them to the National Civil War Museum in Harrisburg, PA. The museum was delighted to receive my donation. “Letters from sharpshooters are tremendously rare and important and much sought-after by researchers,” curator Brett Kelley told me. That emotional journey will be the subject of a separate piece. 

In May of this year, I visited Charleston, SC with some friends. To close the circle on my James Kent trip, I thought it would be fitting to visit the place where the Civil War had started: Fort Sumter. To reach the fort, located on an island in Charleston Harbor, my friends and I boarded a ferry at Liberty Square. We took seats on the top deck. As the boat sped across the harbor, a volunteer from the National Park Service narrated the history of the fort. South Carolina was the first state to secede from the Union, and the initial shots of the Civil War were fired at Fort Sumter by Confederate troops in the early morning of April 12, 1861. On April 14, Union commander Major Robert Anderson surrendered the fort. Union troops attempted to recapture Fort Sumter in 1863 but were unsuccessful; they did not reclaim it until February 22, 1865. 

As the ferry neared the island, we glimpsed Old Glory flying above the fort, and my heart soared. I had never felt the sense of Union victory, or the reunion of North and South, as powerfully as I did when I saw the Stars and Stripes waving in the breeze over the former Confederate-held territory. 

I was not the first to experience this feeling. In February of 1865, as Charleston was being recaptured by Union forces, Lieutenant Colonel Charles Fox, commanding officer of the 55th Massachusetts Regiment, wrote to his family, “If I were to live to the extreme of the usual age of men, the memory of this day would remain bright and distinct to the end. Even now I can hardly realize that the birth place [sic] of the rebellion is in our hands.”* (Golay, 1999, p. 125).  

The flag holds a special place in the heart of Americans. When European friends visit the US, they are always somewhat amused to observe American flags flying in places like airports and car dealerships. Before the Civil War, the flag had been used primarily by the government and the military. The attack on Fort Sumter and Federal surrender of the fort provoked a blaze of patriotic sentiment. “Throughout the North, as the news from Charleston arrived, the Stars and Stripes appeared on public buildings and private homes” (Weigley, 2000, p. 23). Devotion to the flag continued throughout the war and afterwards. 

Once on the island, we walked along the ramparts and examined the restored artillery. A small museum inside the fort displays information and artifacts. Among these is the flag which flew over the fort during the initial bombardment. The accompanying plaque reads:

“This 10-foot by 20-foot tattered storm flag flew over Fort Sumter during the bombardment of April 12-13, 1861. On the second day a Confederate projectile shattered the flagstaff causing members of the Federal garrison to rush onto the parade ground, amid exploding shells and burning timbers, to retrieve the fallen flag. They carried it to the ramparts where it was hastily nailed to a wooden pole and re-raised.” 

The battle-scarred flag reminded me of James’s own love of the Stars and Stripes. On May 12, 1862, he wrote to his sister, “We then came into…Falmouth [VA]…our regiment the first one, and our regiment colors the first of the Stars and Stripes, to float where so lately only the Confederate States rag had been acknowledged.” 

The last few years have been difficult for Americans. We find ourselves increasingly divided on a multitude of issues. Among a segment of the population, our “Constitutional Conscience” appears to be eroding. Some Americans even say that they don’t care about the Constitution.  On social media, there is occasional talk of a “national divorce.” I do not know if this will come to pass. We may forget that, not so very long ago, our country was bitterly divided. 

In his letters, James described the animosity of the Civil War era. Of his regiment’s arrival in Falmouth, he wrote, “The ‘colored folk’ were very glad to see us, and the whites say they are, but I have no faith in their unionism, curse them, they would cut our throats in a minute if they could do it without being found out.” 

Even in the closing months of the war, hostility did not dwindle. As General William Tecumseh Sherman conducted his controversial campaign through South Carolina in February of 1865, “All the while, conqueror and conquered were storing up stocks of gall that would last for a generation” (Golay, 1999, p. 124).

I do not know if we are more divided now than we were in the 1860s. Throughout the Civil War, there were no doubt many times that Union forces, and Lincoln himself, worried that all was lost. After James perished at Gettysburg, a battle that was a Union victory, there were long, dark days ahead. In his Gettysburg Address, delivered more than four months after the battle, Lincoln said, “We highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain.” In the end, the Union forces prevailed. The Confederates surrendered at Appomattox, GA in April of 1865, and the Union was restored. 

As we boarded the ferry back to the mainland, I cast a last glance at Old Glory. I felt uplifted and hopeful. I was certain that James would be proud to see the Stars and Stripes flying again above Fort Sumter. In the space of an afternoon, I had gained a new perspective on conflict. Although at times despairing, we may take comfort from the fact that the tide can shift in our favor, even after a long battle. May we, like the Federal soldiers at Fort Sumter, have the courage to step forward and retrieve our fallen flag. 

*The 55th Massachusetts was a black regiment, and Fox was a staunch abolitionist. About the recapture of Charleston, he wrote, “May the cradle be also the grave of the child of sin.” (Golay, 1999, p. 125). 

Note: When writing about military history, it is customary to refer to soldiers by their rank. I have made an exception for Cpl. James S. Kent, whom I call by his first name in order to emphasize the personal connection I feel to him. 

References

Golay, Michael. A Ruined Land: The End of the Civil War. John Wiley and Sons, 1999.

James Kent to his sister Adaline Kent, May 12, 1862. National Civil War Museum Archives. 

Weigley, Russell F. A Great Civil War. Indiana University Press, 2000. 

© 2016-2023 Katharine Spehar. All rights reserved.

Image credit of the author.

My Mother's Last Supper

My mother died on Valentine’s Day. Death had come upon her suddenly, at 83. My father had risen from bed in the middle of the night to find my mother lying on the kitchen floor. Her legs were crossed casually, and she had already fallen into her final sleep. She died around 1:00 a.m., but it was nearly 4:00 a.m. by the time the local medical investigator made her way through a snowstorm across the mountains to Taos. 

My father broke the news to me early in the morning. A cold snap had left the roads too icy for me to make the drive from Albuquerque that day.

“I’ll be up in Taos tomorrow,” I told him. 

All day, I kept adjusting the thermostat in my apartment but was unable to raise the temperature above 67 degrees. Wrapped in a fleece throw, I sat on my couch and sobbed. That night, sleep eluded me. I felt as if my heart were the Sacred Heart of Jesus, with thorns poking it and drops of blood spurting out. My body felt as if it were imploding. 

The next afternoon, snow swirled around me as I pulled into my father’s gravel driveway in El Prado. 

I had steeled myself for the fact that my mother wouldn’t be there to greet me with a warm hug. I wasn’t prepared for the stillness from the kitchen. I was accustomed to being met by the smell of homemade soup or pot roast, my favorite dish. Cooking was my mother’s love language. 

I stepped into the kitchen. 

“I kept everything the way it was just before….” My father gestured at the butcher block table. A pencil rested on the crossword puzzle my mother had been completing just a day ago. A few drops of red wine had dried at the bottom of her empty glass. A foil-wrapped bar of dark chocolate, just starting to melt, remained half-eaten. The scene felt surreal.

My father and I spent the afternoon discussing the funeral arrangements. I had spoken with the priest to arrange the funeral Mass, but we had not yet secured a burial plot. (That’s a story for another day.) 

The winter sun sank below the horizon, and my stomach growled. 

“What about dinner?” I asked. 

“I don’t know what your mother had planned. Let’s check the menu book.” 

Since my childhood, my mother had used a small calendar for menu planning. Each Friday, she would create the menu for the week ahead and then compile her grocery list. Years ago, she would use the pocket Hallmark datebooks that drugstores always gave out for free around the holidays. 

I pulled open a drawer. The menu planning calendar was tucked behind a plastic container of rubber bands. I glanced at the entry for that evening. 

“Soup,” I read aloud. “Let’s take a look in the fridge.” 

The refrigerator was stuffed to bursting: a bit of Chinese takeout, some leftover pasta, half a red onion, several jars of olives. I rooted around. Behind a bottle of maple syrup and a jar of mayonnaise stood a quart-sized plastic container that looked promising. I opened the lid. Kidney beans and vegetables. 

As I poured the soup into a saucepan, I noticed an index card clipped to the recipe holder next to the stove: minestrone romano.  My mother had made the dish so often that I wondered that she even needed to consult a recipe. 

Looking again in the refrigerator, I located two small glass jars, labeled in her handwriting. One read “Parm,” and the other “Sheep.” She knew that cow’s milk didn’t agree with me and always kept some grated Romano cheese on hand for my visits. I felt a lump in my throat.

In order not to disturb the final scene in the kitchen, my father had laid our places at the dining table. I gently carried over our bowls of hot soup. My father said grace, and I looked over at my mother’s empty place. My heart felt as heavy as it ever had. I sprinkled some Romano onto my soup and dipped my spoon into the steaming broth. Kidney beans, tomatoes, onions, cabbage, carrots, zucchini, and celery blended seamlessly with the homemade beef stock base and seasonings. Somehow, when I made my mother’s recipes, they never turned out quite like her cooking. 

It wasn’t just her garnishes of grated lemon zest, chopped parsley, or bacon. Every dish that my mother prepared was infused with love. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I realized that this was the last meal she would ever cook for me. With my napkin, I wiped my eyes. Before I was born, she had nourished me in the womb. When I was an infant, she nursed me. Here she was, continuing to feed me, even from the world beyond. I felt deeply connected to her. I wanted to be able to hug her one more time and thank her for the soup, so lovingly prepared.

Her cooking had comforted me many times, even into my middle age. In the spring of 2020, I visited my parents at the start of COVID-19. I arrived feeling exhausted and depleted. I plopped down in a chair at the kitchen table, and my mother immediately served me a bowl of her vegetable soup. She handed me a small glass jar: grated Romano, of course. For months, I had been busy taking care of others: keeping up-to-date on the latest COVID information and requirements, developing and implementing the COVID policy for our employees, and reassuring them. I had had little time to care for myself. I felt so nurtured by my mother’s simple act of serving me a bowl of soup, and I luxuriated in the feeling. I told my mother how I felt. 

“That’s what mothers are for,” she had responded with a smile.

My father and I finished dinner, and I cleared the table and began to run hot water over the dishes. The recipe card next to the stove caught my eye. Maybe minestrone romano would become part of my own cooking repertoire. 

© 2016-2023 Katharine Spehar. All rights reserved.

Image credit: Pixabay.com

What Organic Gardening Can Teach Us about COVID-19

In memory of my mother

What does growing delicious tomatoes have to do with fighting the coronavirus? Quite a lot, it turns out.

When I was growing up, my mother loved vegetable gardening. She created our family’s enormous garden, with over 15 kinds of vegetables, as well as various herbs. Our garden even featured strawberries and rhubarb. Being something of an overachiever, my mother was not content with just one variety of sweet corn or tomato, bean, pepper, or pea; she grew several of each.

Especially memorable were the tomatoes. More than two decades after my parents had moved from my childhood home, my mother and I would occasionally reminisce about the tomatoes from that garden. We raved about their flavor, texture, and juiciness. We agreed that they were the best tomatoes that we had ever eaten, and we had both tried plenty of tomatoes over our lifetime.

But that quality of tomato was not born overnight.

To prepare for the arrival of their second child, my parents had moved into a newly-built house on a property that was just under an acre and a half. The house was constructed on the site of a former sand and gravel pit. The mining activities had removed the topsoil, and the area was later used as a landfill. The trash that had been dumped there was eventually compressed and the space filled again with sand, gravel, and some top dressing. 

It was on top of this pile of sand and compacted rubbish that my mother started her garden literally from scratch.  She utilized organic gardening methods long before they became fashionable, so we used no chemicals or synthetic fertilizers. (See photo below).

In the early days, the soil was poor, and we had many pests. A few years ago, she and I talked about those struggles. “The first year was the worst for tomato hornworms,” my mother recalled. “In organic gardening, the goal is to strengthen the plants so that they are resistant to bugs,” she explained. 

Over decades, we built up the garden soil with cow manure, chicken manure, straw, compost, and leaf mulch, as well as my personal favorite, fish fertilizer. (Is there an emoji for holding your nose?) As the years went by, our plants thrived more and more. With each passing year, the tomatoes became more delicious. By building up the soil, we enabled the growth of strong, healthy plants that were resistant to pests and bore the tastiest of fruit. Adding a range of organic matter to the garden developed the soil microbiome, which plays a key role in the health of plants. 

Just as my family built up the soil in our garden, we humans can strengthen our own terrain and become more resistant to pathogens of any kind. For me, one of the very discouraging aspects of the COVID-19 response has been the focus on simply defeating germs. There has been almost no emphasis on strengthening the terrain. Public health officials have told us to lock down, practice social distancing, use hand sanitizer, wear masks, and get vaccinated. Few doctors have spoken about the importance of strengthening our terrain, including our microbiome. 

Modern infectious disease treatment is based on germ theory, which holds that pathogens of various kinds invade the body and cause illness. An alternate view, terrain theory, holds that a healthy terrain is inhospitable to pathogens; only if the host becomes weakened can a germ take hold. Over the past two years, we’ve seen many people become very ill and die from COVID-19, unfortunately. Others, however, haven’t experienced any symptoms at all. Could the severity of illness–or the very susceptibility to it–be related to a person’s terrain? 

If we think of our body as a garden that needs to be cultivated, we can strengthen our terrain by eating nutrient-dense whole foods, including bone broths and meats from pasture-raised animals, consuming vegetables grown in healthy soil, and ensuring an adequate intake of fat-soluble vitamins. It’s also critical to nourish the intestinal microbiome (gut flora) by eating some fermented foods like yogurt or sauerkraut. In addition, it’s important to stay hydrated, get enough rest, and avoid environmental toxins.

Sadly, I’ll never again have the chance to eat those wonderful tomatoes of my childhood. But it’s never too late to strengthen our own terrain. If my family could grow delicious organic vegetables in a former gravel pit, then you, too, can build a healthy terrain and microbiome in your body…and you’ll be ready for the next germ that comes down the pike. 

This post was inspired by Dr. Tom Cowan’s June 9, 2021 Facebook post about terrain theory.

Disclaimer. All information in this article is solely the opinion of the author and for educational purposes only. No information in this article is intended as diagnosis, treatment, prescription, or cure for any health condition.

© 2016-2023 Katharine Spehar. All rights reserved.

Image credits: Pixabay, Walter M. Bellemore

My uncle, parents, and maternal grandmother by the garden in its early years.

Why the United States Is Like Swiss Cheese

Today in the United States, we celebrate Independence Day. This should be a cause for celebration, recognizing that we threw off the yoke of a tremendous colonial power and forged an entirely new path in terms of government. Right now, however, we see our country experiencing considerable civil unrest in the streets and enormous division on social media and, in some cases, in our families and workplaces. I find this heartbreaking. 

My family has always been interested in genealogy, so I know quite a bit about our family tree on both sides. For example, one of my ancestors commanded a militia that fought against the British at Saratoga, a turning point in the American Revolution. Another ancestor, from the same side of the family, was a Union soldier who was killed at Gettysburg.

Until recently, I never thought much about either of those ancestors. Today, however, I am acutely aware of the fact that those ancestors fought and died for our country. They helped shape the United States that exists today and paved the way for later ancestors of mine to come in the 20th century. Their contributions enabled me to have the opportunities that I enjoy today. Perhaps I will be cancelled for writing this, but I am proud of my ancestors and their commitment to the ideals of this country. 

I myself have had the privilege of living in several other countries, including developing countries and some former communist and socialist countries. I have dual US/Slovenian citizenship. With my language skills, I could choose to live in any number of countries. Yet, for now, I choose to live in the United States. Why? Because I have more freedom and opportunities here for self-actualization and prosperity than anywhere else. And I want the same for all Americans. 

Many years ago, at a social event, my father was chatting with a retired European diplomat, who remarked, “The United States is like a big piece of Swiss cheese. There are a lot of holes in it, but in between those holes, there is a lot of good cheese.” 

Having spent a good portion of my adult life living outside of the US, I agree with that statement. Is the United States perfect? No. Are there things we need to improve? Absolutely. The United States of America is a work in progress. And as Frederick Douglass said in 1857, “I know of no soil better adapted to the growth of reform than American soil.”

To make changes, we must work together. In an 1858 speech, Abraham Lincoln (also currently under threat of being cancelled), said, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” Despite our current divisions, it is now time for us to take up the mantle from previous generations and work together to make a better country for all and continue to fulfill the vision of the Founders. 

Stay tuned for my future posts on where I think we need to focus our efforts.

© 2016-2023 Katharine Spehar. All rights reserved.

Image by Shutterbug75 from Pixabay 

Flowers in the Desert

It was in mid-March that the Archdiocese of Santa Fe decided to suspend all services because of the coronavirus outbreak. As time passed, it became clear that churches would not be reopening in time for Easter services. 

Some people were quite distressed by this. A friend even remarked dejectedly, “Easter is cancelled.” Of course, I was sad not to be able to attend Easter Sunday Mass (less sad to miss the lengthy Palm Sunday service). But in recent years, my connection to God has grown closer each day, and I know that He is with me at all times, whether in a church or in my apartment. This fact has been a great comfort to me during this challenging period when it seems as if everything in the world is upside-down. 

With churches closed to services, I had no choice but to spend Easter in a different way. After several weeks of being confined mostly to my home, I was eager to get out. An Easter Sunday hike seemed an excellent idea. 

Although there are plenty of hiking and walking trails around Albuquerque, some of them had become rather congested lately. Recently, the mayor of Albuquerque issued a statement urging people to forgo the crowded trails and recommending some less-commonly used ones. Looking over the mayor’s suggestions, I pulled out my Alltrails app and chose a trail that appealed to me. It happened to be one I hadn’t visited before. 

I decided to make an early start, arriving at the trailhead at about 8:00AM, the time I am usually getting out of bed on a Sunday! There were a few cars parked at the trailhead but as I had suspected, the area was mostly deserted. I exchanged a brief “Good morning” and a wave from a safe distance with a couple walking their dog near the start of the trail. After that, I had the entire space to myself. 

Although it is very beautiful, the Albuquerque area terrain can at times appear rather desolate, with only sparse vegetation. Spring has been late in arriving this year, and the few deciduous trees were only beginning to bud. Setting out on the trail, I had little idea what surprises would be awaiting me today. 

The trail was extremely steep in places, and I found myself wishing I had brought hiking poles. I carefully sought my footing on a trail that was at times rocky, at times sandy. More than once, I had to stop to catch my breath. Perhaps as a result of having been cooped up for several weeks, I found myself noticing many tiny details that I might have previously overlooked. Some Cholla cacti looked like crosses to me. I marveled at other cacti with spines so white that they looked as if they were dusted in snow. As I rounded each bend, I saw something new: a burst of orange here, a splash of bright yellow there. Some of the flowering plants had sprung up right in the middle of the trail. I felt as if the Creator were saying to me, “Look! Here is something beautiful. In the midst of all of this desolation, I can and will still create beauty.” And while I don’t claim to understand what is happening with this COVID-19 situation, I do know there is more to it than meets the eye. 

My hike today was more than just a physical workout. I believe that the Creator is asking us to look around and see what we can appreciate as we face terrible heartbreak and loss in this time. 

What “flowers in the desert” have you been able to discover for yourself during these unprecedented times? 

© 2016-2023 Katharine Spehar. All rights reserved.

The One-Degree New Year's Resolution

It’s the time of year for New Year’s resolutions. Every year, people resolve to lose weight, eat better, start meditating, etc. Given that we’re now in mid-January, some of those 2020 resolutions have probably already been abandoned. 

It may be that it’s tough to keep these resolutions because they’re too grand or too sweeping. They can feel overwhelming. But perhaps there is another way to change our lives in a lasting way.  

Just before Christmas, I attended a party at a co-worker’s house. My co-worker had recently installed a stunning outdoor hot tub in her courtyard. “We keep it set to 102 degrees,” she said (38.8°C, for my non-US readers). “We bumped it up to 103 (39.4°C), but it was so hot that we couldn’t take it.” 

I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation as to why the slightly higher water temperature feels unbearable to the human body. But I was amazed that a difference of one degree could have such an impact. I then found myself thinking about extending this idea to life more broadly. 

I wondered what aspect of my life I could change by just one degree and achieve a major impact. Would it be going to bed just 10 minutes earlier? Would it be writing just one more email before leaving the office? Would it be slowing down while chewing my meals? 

I’m still playing around with a few of these one-degree resolutions to see how they work out. They certainly feel more achievable than some of the goals I’ve set in past years. And because they’re smaller, it’s easier to get back on track if I slip up.   

So even if you’ve already given up on the New Year’s resolutions you made for 2020, take a fresh look, and try something simpler and easier to implement.

What one-degree resolution can you make that will have a significant impact on your life?

© Katharine Spehar, 2017-2023.

Photo credit: www.pixabay.com

Miracle in a Thai Cave

Like many people around the world, I have been following the story of the Thai soccer team and their coach, who were trapped in a flooded cave for more than two weeks. The rescue was very challenging, and it was by no means clear that the rescuers would succeed. Tragically, while participating in the rescue action, one former Thai Navy SEAL lost his life. The rescue efforts were truly heroic, and the marshaling of expertise and support from so many countries was remarkable.

In reading the latest news, however, I was struck by a headline on www.cnn.com: “Father of youngest Thai boy in cave rescue never lost hope.” That may be true, but what produced the miraculous ending was not hope, but faith.

It’s no surprise--and no coincidence--that this rescue took place on the heels of two Gospel readings about faith. In last Sunday’s reading, we heard how Jesus visited his hometown but was unable to perform any miracles because the people did not have faith (Mark 6:5-6). The Sunday before, we read about a woman whose faith alone allowed her to heal instantly from twelve years of suffering. In that case, Jesus did not even touch the woman; she merely reached out and touched his cloak and was healed. “My daughter, your faith has made you well,” said Jesus (Mark 5:25-34).

Considering the extreme conditions in the Thai cave, the rescue of the boys and their coach was nothing short of miraculous. During the ordeal, the youngest boy’s father kept faith. So, clearly, did the families of the other boys and the family of the coach. And likely hundreds of thousands--if not millions--of people around the globe also kept faith throughout the rescue actions. We’ll never know for sure, but perhaps it was this combined faith that produced the miracle. (Naturally, not all were praying to God or Jesus but to the Divine in their own tradition.)

Throughout our human existence, we are frequently confronted with heartbreak, loss, and disappointment. During these times, it can be extraordinarily difficult to maintain faith, especially when a situation seems hopeless. Through His words in the Gospel and through actions such as the Thai cave rescue, Jesus reminds us that if we have faith, miracles can happen.

In what area of life do you need to have more faith? How can our combined faith help all of humanity? Share your thoughts in the comments section below.

Postscript: In writing this post, I entirely overlooked the symbolism of the numbers: twelve boys...and one coach. 

 Katharine Spehar, 2017-2023.

Photo credit: www.pixabay.com

What Robots (Probably) Won't Ever Be Able To Do

Nearly every week I read an article discussing the rise of robots and artificial intelligence. It’s estimated that automation will eliminate millions of jobs, perhaps even to the extent that many fields will no longer exist. Certainly, robots can effectively perform certain tasks that are repetitive, such as placing a camera into a new iPhone, or dangerous, such as delivering explosives to a suspect in a police standoff.* But there are some tasks that robots will probably never be able to perform.

Self-driving cars are on the rise, and since I dislike driving, I’m all for them. We’re a long way from their widespread use, however. In March of 2018, a pedestrian in Texas was struck and killed by a self-driving Uber car. In an analysis of the tragic incident, John M Simpson, privacy and technology project director with Consumer Watchdog, said, “the robot cars cannot accurately predict human behavior.” Of course, even humans have difficulty accurately predicting human behavior; we often find ourselves utterly perplexed by something another person says or does. But the inability of the robot cars to think the way humans do is a critical weakness and one not likely to be overcome anytime soon.

Driving is not purely a mechanical activity; it is an extremely social one. When we drive, we interact with other drivers and with pedestrians. These interactions require social thinking: anticipating the needs or desires of other drivers and pedestrians and predicting what they might do. This is where the robot cars fall short.  

Our ability to interpret and, by extension, predict the behavior of others is linked to the concept of Theory of Mind, which states that, as humans, we can imagine the thought of another even if we are holding a different thought in our own mind. In the case of the driver, we see a pedestrian walking in one direction but looking in another. The human eye might follow the gaze of the pedestrian and think, “Oh, she’s looking at the coffee shop sign. Although she’s heading in one direction, she may very quickly turn in another direction so she can go towards the coffee shop.” The robot does not experience Theory of Mind and, therefore, is limited in its ability to interpret the human behavior and speculate as to what the pedestrian might do. Some researchers are hard at work at looking how to solve this issue in the programming of the robots.

Social thinking is critical to understanding not only the thoughts of others, but also their feelings. In many fields, social thinking is essential. I work for an organization that provides behavioral health therapy services to children and adolescents. Recently, I talked with the company founder, a psychologist, about the importance of empathy in human interaction. It’s clear that, to be effective, therapists must show empathy for their clients. The concepts of empathy and Theory of Mind are closely connected, although they may involve different parts of the brain.

In a recent article in the print edition of Smithsonian, Thomas Dietterich, professor emeritus of computer science at Oregon State University said, “If a computer tells you, ‘I know how you feel,’ it’s lying. It cannot have the same experiences that humans have and it is those experiences that ground our understanding of what it is like to be human.”  A robot therapist will never be able to empathize with a human over the death of parent because a robot has not experienced being born to human parents. A robot therapist cannot empathize with a teenage client because the robot has never had the experience of being a child. A robot therapist cannot relate to the pain of experiencing physical, emotional, or sexual abuse. Not having had those human experiences, the robot lacks the autobiographical memory which some researchers believe is critical to simulating the emotions of others.

Of course, the field of AI is in its infancy, and we may yet be able to program robots to anticipate some aspects of our behavior. The development of affective computing means that some AIs may be programmed to respond to human emotion or even to have their own feelings. Research has shown that many children, especially younger ones, are open to the idea of the use of robots. The robots will likely be limited, however in their capacity; they may be able to coach us on the techniques of hitting a tennis ball but they probably won’t be able to give us a meaningful pep talk on how to recover mentally after a lost match.

There’s no doubt that robots are here to stay, and they may perform very useful functions. (I’d love a robot that folds laundry!) A critical aspect of Theory of Mind is the ability to hold multiple perspectives at the same time and switch between those perspectives. Can robots do that?  I’m not an expert on artificial intelligence. Will they ever be able to? I don’t know, but until robots are able to develop social thinking skills, AI robots will not be able to serve effectively in fields where these skills are critical for success. And even if in the future, there are competent robot therapists, these robots will never fully develop human social skills simply because the robots aren’t human. As Aristotle’s Law of Identity states, “A is A.” A tree cannot be a cat. A robot cannot be a human being. Even if a robot is granted human rights, it remains a robot and not a human being.

How do you think automation will change the world? Share your thoughts in the comments section below.

© Katharine Spehar, 2017-2023.

*2023 update: There are some serious ethical concerns about using robots in this type of situation, and the question needs further study.

Photo credit: www.pixabay.com

6 Tips for Managing Anxiety

Recently, several of my clients have mentioned that they are struggling with anxiety. A few years ago, I myself suffered from severe anxiety. When it flared up, even total strangers could see that I was agitated. If they saw me saw me riffling through my purse because I thought I had misplaced my keys, they would ask, “Are you all right?” The anxiety was debilitating, even paralyzing, at times.

Many factors can contribute to anxiety, and biochemical imbalances frequently play a significant role. In particular, excess copper is often a factor. In my case, following a complete nutritional balancing program over the course of several years has drastically reduced my anxiety.

A nutritional balancing program represents a significant commitment, so it may not be for you. Nevertheless, there are simple things you can do to cope with anxiety. Here, I share a few tips, most of which don’t cost anything except a little time and discipline. None involves medication of any kind.

1. Push energy down. Very often, when we have anxiety, there is too much energy circulating in our heads. Fortunately, we can move this energy, and we want to move it downwards. Here’s a simple exercise that you can do. Think about pushing energy down out of your head. Imagine that you are under a waterfall or very powerful shower and feel the energy going down. Or imagine that there's a powerful vacuum under your feet pulling the energy down through your body. You can do this while you are sitting, lying, or standing. Move the energy in one direction only: down. If you feel the energy trying to move upwards, push it back down. This may take a little practice. Over time, you may find that you look forward to this exercise and that it brings you comfort. I have even used this effectively while sitting nervously in the chair at the dentist’s office; I focused on pushing energy down towards my feet and I felt my body relax. This is also a very good exercise to do if you can’t fall asleep or if you wake up feeling worried in the middle of the night. (For a more in-depth explanation of this exercise, click here).

2. On a related note, ground yourself. If you can, walk barefoot outside. If walking is not an option because the terrain is too rough, simply sit down, take off your shoes, and let the soles of your feet touch the ground. Feel the connection between your feet and the earth. You can listen to some soothing music in your iPod or tune in to the sounds of nature.

3. Try some Paramin. Mineral imbalances may also affect our mental and emotional state. This powerful calcium-magnesium supplement, available from Analytical Research Labs, is extremely effective, and many people feel positive effects within 20 minutes of taking the supplement. Even if you’re not following a complete nutritional balancing program, taking some Paramin may be very beneficial for you.

4. Take a shower. I live in a desert climate, with an average annual rainfall of less than 10 inches, so I don’t advocate wasting water, but I do find that a hot shower can be calming. Perhaps the downward motion of water helps to push the energy down, as I described in point 1 above. Or perhaps the water has the effect of cleansing any negative energies that may be pulling me down.

5. Take a break from social media, which can provoke anxiety in some people. I know we all love Facebook and it can contain some really interesting and fun posts. But try taking a break from Facebook and Twitter for a few weeks or longer. If you absolutely must use social media to promote your business, set aside a limited amount of time each day or each week to post or share updates or visit groups.

6. To the extent that you can, reduce exposure to EMFs. These disrupt the balance of minerals in the cells.Turn off your wi-fi router at night, and set your phone to airplane mode whenever you can. When you must talk on the phone, use a headset or use the speaker setting.  Keep your bedroom free of electrical devices. Avoiding EMFs will almost certainly have a calming effect on you.

Anxiety can be frightening and debilitating, but there are ways to manage it without having to resort to medication. With a little practice you'll be able to tame the wild beast and flow more easily in your life.

All information in this article is the opinion of the author and for educational purposes only.  It is not for the diagnosis, treatment, prescription or cure of any disease or health condition.

© Katharine Spehar, 2017-2023.

Photo credit: www.pixabay.com

Can You Heal Your Twin Flame?

When we meet our twin, our deepest wounds come up to the surface to be healed. We are eager to resolve these issues so that we can come together more fully with our twin. There are dozens of articles and videos on the subject of healing your twin flame. Some twin flame teachers are adamant that you cannot heal your twin, that she must heal herself and your role is simply to stand by or perhaps even step back. Other teachers, focusing on the shared energy body between twins, advocate sending healing to the twin who is struggling with a wound or a trigger.

With these conflicting teachings, you may wonder if there’s any point in sending healing to your twin. Can you heal your twin? The answer is yes and no.

All healing, whether physical or emotional, comes from within. It is always the patient who is healing himself. Even when doctors administer medication, it’s not the doctors who are performing the healing. The patient’s body accepts the medication and, through a process that is not conscious, brings the body back into equilibrium. The doctor merely facilitates the process.

But wait, didn’t Jesus heal people? The Bible describes many miracles performed by Jesus. One of my favorite stories, however, concerns the woman who was healed from a long malady simply by touching Jesus’ cloak. I may be venturing into heresy here, but in this story, Jesus simply enabled the healing. It was the woman’s own faith that made her well. Jesus himself says, “Daughter, your faith has made you well.” Luke 8:48.

So if the patient is the one responsible for healing herself, what is your role?  If a relative is in the hospital, you don’t say, “Well, you’d better hurry up and get out of there!” or “I’m not going to have anything to do with you until you’re feeling better!” or “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you healed yet?” Instead, you go to visit your relative. Perhaps you bring flowers or reading material. You sit by your relative’s bedside and hold her hand along the way. You may even bring chicken soup. In this way, you are supporting and enabling the patient’s healing from within.  

If all healing comes from within, your twin must lead the healing effort. That does not mean your only option is to stand idly by. Think of your twin as a sick friend or relative who needs your support. By all means, if it feels right, help your twin by sending or bringing “medicine” to speed the healing. Just as with conventional medicine, sometimes multiple doses may be required. And be sure that you are standing by your twin’s bedside and holding her hand. Even if you are in separation and totally out of contact, you can send her virtual moral support. Of course, any healing you perform on yourself will energetically help your twin, too.   

Along this journey, it’s very important to follow your inner compass, so support your twin in the way that feels right for YOU.

How have you helped your twin to heal? Share your thoughts in the comments section below.

© Katharine Spehar, 2017-2023.

Photo credit: www.pixabay.com

Connection in the Modern Age

It was fall 2012, and I was making my final preparations to leave Canada for a yearlong sabbatical in the Caribbean.  There were household goods to pack up, services to cancel, and of course, farewells to say.

A particularly tough goodbye took place in a downtown Toronto medical office. Shelley was not only my naturopath, but also my cranial osteopath and acupuncturist. With her wide range of skills, she combined multiple modalities into a unique approach to treatment. But Shelley was more than a one-stop shop for natural healing. In the several years that I had known her, she had become a very close friend, someone to whom I confided my most private thoughts.  I had spent many a chilly Canadian weekend afternoon in her cozy office, where I shared with her frustrations and challenges in my work and private life.

Shelley put her arms around me and gave me a big hug. “Katharine, you’ll have to teach me how to use Skype.” 

“I will,” I promised.

When I visited Canada at Christmas and again the following summer, Shelley was at the top of my “must-see” list; she and I easily picked up where we had left off months before.  After I left the Caribbean and moved back to the US, we occasionally exchanged emails. Shelley was the person I’d reach out to if I had some deep soul issue I felt most people couldn’t understand.  

A few months ago, on a Saturday afternoon, I googled Shelley. I don’t know what prompted me to do this. I was stunned to see the word “obituary” after her name.  I don’t think she was more than 60 at the very most. The obituary gave few details; she had passed away about three months before, apparently after a brief illness.

My heart sank. Although it had been more than a year since our last email exchange, I thought of her often and had planned to visit her on my next trip to Toronto, although I had no idea when that would be.

I cried for a good part of that day and into the next several days. I wished I had emailed Shelley one more time. I wished I had gone to Toronto for one last visit.  I wished I had known she was ill so that I could say goodbye. I wished I had taught her how to use Skype.

In the months since then, I’ve thought of Shelley nearly every day. I wish I could call her up or email her with a question about health or to share some confidence. There’s a part of me that’s somehow in denial, thinking that she’s not really gone and that I’ll met up with her during my next trip to Toronto.

My experience is not unique, of course. When we lose someone close to us, we are once again reminded of the fact that none of us knows how many days we have on this earth.  We often feel regret for not having kept in touch. Sometimes, the death of a relative, friend, or even an acquaintance, jolts us into reflection and into making changes in our lives.

In my case, Shelley’s death made me think long and hard about how to keep in touch with friends who are in distant locations. In my adult life, I’ve moved about every two years. It seems as if I am always saying goodbye to friends and vowing to stay connected.  

I can’t help wondering if it’s harder now to maintain closeness than it used to be. In my efforts to feng shui my home in recent months, I have been clearing out old papers. Lately, I’ve been working through a large box of letters from friends and family. Most of them date to my time as a high school and college student.

I read each letter before it heads for the recycle bin. Some of the letters are about mundane issues; those are easy to toss. But others have been more difficult—even impossible—to throw away.  They are filled with such loving and sweet words, the kind people don’t seem to express through text messages, emails or Facebook Messenger.

“You are a special friend,” wrote a female friend from college. “I miss your way about you,” wrote another. A third, feeling anxious about a personal matter, and hoping we could talk on the phone, wrote, “I miss your soothing voice.”

These days, we have more ways of keeping in touch with one another than ever before: letters, email, phone calls, text messages, Facebook, FaceTime, Skype, and more. Yet, somehow we struggle to connect at times. We’re caught up in our jobs (many employers expect us to be available 24/7), in juggling our busy schedules, in raising families. Women, especially, often feel they hardly have a moment to themselves.  Communication can be superficial, brief, and hasty. We put off catching up with friends until it’s too late.  When that time comes, we feel the searing pain of regret. 

It seems as if it ought to be easier to keep in touch and to be closer than ever. But with all of the communication tools that we have nowadays, we are challenged to connect, and we still face brutal reminders that our time with our loved ones is limited.  We can’t go back, of course, and I doubt I’ll ever pen letters the way I used to. But I wonder if we can find a way to make better use of the multitude of tools available to us. While we still have time.  

What can you do to foster connection with your loved ones, especially people who are far away? Share your thoughts in the comments section below.

© Katharine Spehar, 2017-2023.

Photo credit: www.pixabay.com

Social Media and the Breakdown of Civil Discourse

Numerous articles have been written about the negative effects of social media on modern society. Some authors argue that, instead of bringing people together, social media serves to create ideological silos.  From the safety of our homes, we can tuck ourselves into online communities of people with similar views on politics, religion, or almost any subject. This can bring comfort, especially in turbulent times. And when our views are outside of the mainstream, it can  be reassuring to talk to like-minded people.   (On an average day, how many people do you meet who believe that cholesterol and saturated fat are good for you?) But the dangers of communicating primarily with people who think the way we do can be far-reaching.

In his 1995 book, On Killing, Lieutenant Colonel Dave Grossman discusses the psychological factors affecting the ability of soldiers to kill enemy combatants. Grossman, a psychologist and U.S. Army Ranger, states that the most difficult way to kill another person is in hand-to-hand combat. He cites evidence that suggests that during the Civil War, some soldiers would aim in such a way that their shots would deliberately miss the enemy fighters, or would engage in "mock firing," where they would load their weapons and simply pretend to fire. It would appear that many soldiers behaved similarly in World War II. Grossman argues that the increasing use of technology in military operations has made it easier for soldiers to kill. The technology creates not only a physical distance from the enemy but a psychological one as well.

I believe that we are witnessing a similar phenomenon of psychological distancing in human communication. In recent decades, the United States has become increasingly polarized. The results of the 2016 presidential election—and the response following it—testify to that disconnect. Part of the reason for the increasing polarization of American society is the fact that people engage less and less with others of differing opinions. More and more, people communicate electronically and through social media. Social media is, in itself, isolating and creates silos. On Facebook, people “unfriend” others who express views that they don’t like. In addition, I would argue that the distance created by technology makes it much easier to communicate in a rude way with others. Online, people hurl insults that would probably be much more difficult to express in a face-to-face conversation with a person of a differing opinion. This behavior manifests itself not only on Facebook but also in other online discussions such as the comments section on newspaper articles or under YouTube videos. Twitter is even more problematic, for various reasons. The character limit does not allow for much range of expression, and at times, the reader can’t be sure it’s a real person who is writing, or merely a bot. Of course, there can be thought-provoking discussions in online forums but, more often than not, one must sift through a mass of insults and rude and unproductive comments.

This breakdown in civil discourse represents a major danger to the future of the United States. The republic has endured for 230 years because of the ability of people of differing opinions to communicate and reach compromise. Now, instead of seeing the party on the other end as a human being, we are inclined see something amorphous, to be neutralized, unfriended, or blocked. It is difficult to compromise if you are unable even to have a reasonable—if heated—conversation with someone who holds an opposing viewpoint. In a previous post, I suggested not unfriending people on Facebook. Since that time, my thinking has evolved on this subject. While it is certainly possible to have a reasoned discussion on Facebook or via other electronic medium, this requires that both parties focus on logic, facts, and clear expression. More often than not, when we communicate electronically, we are tempted to express our visceral reactions. We don't have the benefit of facial expressions, body language, or tone of voice, and our words can be misconstrued. Things can become so unpleasant that we end up regretting having jumped into the fray and want to close ourselves off. To combat this serious issue, I urge people, for the sake of the country and our future, to seek out as many opportunities as possible to talk to others of differing opinions in in face-to-face settings. This may be uncomfortable, but by talking directly to other people, all participants in a discussion will receive the benefit of the full spectrum of human interaction. We may then have a real chance at reaching a better understanding of one another.

© Katharine Spehar, 2017-2023.

Photo credit: www.pixabay.com

8 Things You Can Do NOW If You Didn't Like the Outcome of the Election (Or Even If You Did)

Many Americans are disappointed with the outcome of last week’s US presidential election. People are weeping; maybe you've shed tears. In some places, people have taken to the streets in protest, and a few of those protests have turned violent.  Many leaders and citizens of foreign countries are uneasy, as the outcome was not what they had expected and the sands may be shifting.  It might seem as if the world has gone crazy.

In a recent video, Edward Snowden said, “If we want to have a better world, we can’t hope for an Obama, and we should not fear a Donald Trump. Rather, we should build it ourselves.”  In the context of the statement, Snowden was referring to Obama’s campaign promise (later broken) to end mass surveillance. Many people think Snowden is a traitor. Maybe you’re among those people. Even if you think Snowden ought to be executed, put that thought aside for a moment and listen to the message. It’s powerful.

If you are disappointed with the results of the recent election, don’t give away your power to politicians or anyone else. A free and just society is in the hands of everyone.  You are not a victim, and you have a chance to act now.

Here are some things you can do immediately:

1. Don’t catastrophize. When something bad or unexpected happens, it’s easy to assume the worst. I myself am an expert at imagining everything that could possibly go wrong in a given situation. Avoid lapsing into all-or-nothing thinking.

2. Look for opportunities. As Tony Robbins would say, ask yourself, “What is good about this problem?” If you think hard enough, you can find that every problem presents an opportunity: for learning, reflection, or action.

3. Set your priorities. Write down the 2-3 issues that are most important to you and consider which suggestions from this list will help support you in addressing those issues.

4. Write to Congress. Do you know who your Senators and Representatives are? Email them, call them, write to them. Find out when you can meet them. It doesn’t matter if you voted for them or if they represent your party. While you’re at it, pen a letter to President-elect Trump and tell him what issues are important to you. Campaign promises are notorious for being broken, so even if your national or local candidate won, it’s not a bad idea to keep in touch with him or her or her about the issues you care about. This election outcome could really drive civic engagement, if we make the effort to speak up.

5. Volunteer your time or skills to an organization that supports a cause that is important to you. If you don’t have time, donate money.

6. Consider getting involved in politics at the local level. What can you do in your local community to effect change?

7. Talk to the other side. More than ever, we need to keep the lines of communication open. Don’t unfriend people on Facebook; open a discussion with them. Communications experts at Vital Smarts provide some great tips on how to initiate a conversation.

8. Work on your own vibration. Don’t get stuck in a negative spin about an outcome that you didn’t expect or want. Focus on increasing your own vibration and then take one or more of the above actions. Or come up with some other ideas.

The world has gone through a massive shift in the last week. If we take a deep breath, however, we can see that there are tremendous opportunities for change, within us and in the world around us.

What things can YOU do to build a better world starting right now? Share your thoughts in the comments section.

© Katharine Spehar, 2016-2023.

Photo credit: www.goodfreephotos.com