A Broader Horizon

In The Art of Racing in the Rain, the main (human) character Denny shares a secret he learned when racing cars in Italy: "La macchina va dove vanno gli occhi." Loosely translated, the car goes where the eyes go.

So too with the vehicle of our bodies and the instrument of our minds. Consider the essential behavior of hand-eye coordination. From bowling to baseball, yarning to yoga, our ability to track and translate the movement of our body to effect change on the external world requires we see the action as we perform it. It also highlights the importance of having direct experiences in the physical world. Nature pushes back in a real and meaningful way. The hyper-novelty of the modern era continues to draw us away from direct, physical experiences and toward screen-mediated virtual ones. I contend that the conversation that occurs between the body, the mind, and the environment is diminished when we over-inhabit digital space.

Our brains prioritize keeping our sightline horizontal. Our sense of balance is predominantly influenced by sight. The multi-sensory array of organs that allow us to perceive the real world is concentrated in the head, so our brains want to know where we are in space.

Literally and figuratively, we see where we are going because it is often where we are looking. To the extent that we allow our field of vision to include a broader horizon, we can approach a more expansive experience.

I believe that the art of chiropractic offers a philosophical, evolutionary, and expansive perspective. Beyond bones and muscles, chiropractic interfaces with the neurological, immunological, and psycho-emotional aspects of inhabiting a human body.

When things aren’t working we tend to look down and watch our feet. I invite you to consider what else you might see by looking up and opening the aperture of your perspective.

De Nova Stella

Prior to 1572, the Aristotelian view of a perfect and unchanging heaven was accepted science for two thousand years. Unlike the turbulent terrestrial and meteorological events of the sublunary sphere, which contained Earth, the stars were fixed. Earlier in the century, Copernicus placed the sun in the center and Kepler described the ellipses of orbiting planets. It was an amateur Danish astronomer named Tycho Brahe who reported something that would further revolutionize the way that humans were to understand the cosmos. The appearance of a “new star” in 1572 disrupted the classical and religious view that the heavens (the sky beyond the moon and planets) were immutable. By using parallax, he was able to use measurements from different observatories to determine that the position of the new star did not change relative to other stars, which meant its distance must be well beyond the moon and not within the turbulence of the Earth’s currents.

Parallax can be used to measure the position or relative distance of objects from the observer. While its use in astrometry is obvious, I think it also provides an excellent metaphor for perspective. If 2 people are looking at the same thing and the distance between them is small, what they are looking at will appear similar. If 2 people are looking at the same thing and the distance between them is large, what they are looking at will appear to have to a different background and they will be observing a potentially different side of the same thing.

If we are talking about objects in (outer) space, the mathematics should resolve the perceived differences. But what if we are talking about the perception of events closer to home? The relative distance between people can be influenced by everything from age to ideology, gender to geography, and education to economy. It is essential to recognize that no one of us has access to or could even see the Big Picture. As scientific advances have and will continue to disrupt what we know about our place in the universe, it is my hope that we can together temper the light of new stars to illuminate the path forward.

House of Light

The human spine is often referred to as a column. Ideally, its appearance from back to front will form a straight line. From an architectural and orthopedic perspective, this linear appearance represents an efficient and balanced relationship to gravity, allowing the head to be stabilized over the foundation of the spine, which is the center of the sacrum.

Viewed from the side, however, the spine has curves. These curves are initially formed in early life as babies learn to crawl and then stand upright. The young spine is maximally responsive to new patterns as it navigates weight-bearing movement in a gravitational world. In mature spines, chiropractic x-ray analysis can measure the angles between the skull and the upper neck and the lower spine with the pelvis. These angles characterize adaptive capacity and structural integrity in the axial skeleton.

All of that being said, I would like to clarify that the spine is not actually a column. I recently climbed the Cape May lighthouse at the southern tip of New Jersey. I carried Violet 194 of the 199 cast iron stairs to the top, spiraling up and down through a pillar of red brick. A lighthouse is a column. It is eminently stable. It is designed to stand tall - indefinitely - and to only stand tall. By contrast, how would you tie a shoe if the 24 movable segments of your spine were organized as a rod? How would a high jumper arc over the bar or a gymnast do a cartwheel? How would a columnar spine handle any amount of horizontal force (e.g. tackles, car accidents)? How supportive is a column when it is parallel to the ground?

Unlike a column, the spine suspends and is suspended. There are complex relationships of connective tissue and curvature. Its shape reflects its function, which is to provide the dynamic support that creates the frame in which all of the other organs can live. The spine can and must be stable yet flexible, straight yet curved, operating as one yet comprised of many.

A paradox is something that invites us out of our usual way of thinking. Just as climbing to the top of a lighthouse offers a new perspective, considering the spine as a paradox can perhaps shine a light on one of the most central aspects of our being.