levitation

I’VE BEEN GOING in to work this week a couple hours early so that I can finally finish the mural I’ve been working on for like a year. I still have about 15 hours of painting left before the Peaceful Habits classroom is complete, and now that the book has been put to bed for a while, I thought I’d try to finish it up.

what the sign says

NOW THAT WE LIVE in a different neighborhood, I have a new commute into the city. It’s a cool ride. I bike from our apartment near Memorial Park, all along Buffalo Bayou, into downtown Houston — and I never have to stop at a stop sign or a traffic light. The bike trails go over and under the surface streets.

brainglow

BRAINGLOW is the visual adornment of a cartoon brain — usually represented as a disembodied organ — with an outward-radiating illumination-of-sorts. Brainglow doesn’t exist in nature, of course. Brains don’t literally glow blue-green. But you’d never know it from the pictures of brains you’re likely to encounter walking through a bookstore or surfing the internet these days. You see brainglow everywhere — dust jackets, glossy conference brochures, websites promising heightened brain power.

hara hachi bun

THERE’S A CONFUCIAN teaching that instructs people to eat until they are 80% full. As the saying goes, “eight parts of a full stomach sustain the man; the other two sustain the doctor.” I can’t remember who told me about this tradition, but it has stuck with me ever since, and I see echoes of this wisdom in various aspects of life that have nothing to do with eating. A broader interpretation of the teaching might be: “You don’t always have to fill something to its capacity.”

small gold box

I FOUND HIM near the nurse’s station in his wheelchair, receiving a cup of pills in his hands. His right leg, badly mangled in the accident, had been screwed and pinned back together and wrapped up in a soft cast. He couldn’t bend it at the knee, so when I wheeled him around and down the hallway to his room in the locked unit, I was mindful of the large sweep his outstretched right leg made as we rounded the corners.

tea and toothpicks

I’M SO PROUD of my tea assistant, Mr. Blank. He’s been a patient of mine for almost three years, arriving at our rehabilitation center in the summer of 2012. He stayed with us for four months before returning to his home state on the east coast, but ended up in jail soon after his discharge for assaulting his ex-wife. Knowing his history, and with sincere interest in his welfare, the authorities agreed to transfer him back to our center where he could receive appropriate treatment for his aggression. He was very fortunate. I’ve no doubt there are many men like him, with similar histories, imprisoned for similar offenses all over this country. In his first twenty-five years of life he’s endured more than most of us ever will — all manner of abuse, traumatic brain injury, incarceration — so ending up where he did after being arrested was a rare stroke of good fortune for him. He’s been my tea assistant for seven months.

i love electric light

I WAS PUMPING gas early one morning three Februarys ago when he stepped out from under the streetlight. “Hey man,” he said. “Can you help me out with something to eat?” Good sense would have dictated I do the exact opposite of what I did, but it was cold and I felt bad for him, so I pulled out my wallet and opened it.

springwatch

THESE LAST FEW DAYS have tasted like spring. Branches are budding. Birds are busy building nests. Yesterday was baby blue and one thin layer was enough to keep me warm, so I decided to serve an orange blossom green tea to my Peaceful Habits group, to call attention to and amplify that feeling of spring we were all tasting. I served a jasmine green as well. This year I’ve started using two small teapots instead of one large one, a small ceramic one and a small cast iron one. I received the teapots as gifts for Christmas, and I’m glad I did. Now I can serve two teas simultaneously. Now the group is more like a tea tasting.

skull replacement

MR. JONES was the first person to show up for my tea group yesterday. “Good morning,” I said. “Any word yet on when you’re getting your skull put back in?” “Doc,” he said, “I have an appointment tomorrow. I’m hoping he’ll set a date.” And with that brief exchange I could gauge how much progress he’d made since the last time I saw him, the Thursday before Christmas.