Surely it must be simpler than that!

Before moving on to the next element, I wanted to write a bit more about the path I’m on here.

The principles behind the processes

When I said, “Surely it must be simpler than that,” I mean that I’m on the lookout for the principles which underlie the many different processes, for the very foundations of life and health. Because if we can understand the fundamental principles, we’re better able to work and play with the processes by which those principles are enacted.

     I find it frustrating in the extreme that so many of the “healing modalities” used in complementary and alternative medicine – aka holistic medicine, integrative medicine, ONE medicine, and whatever term comes next in the procession – have so very many moving parts. The number of acupuncture points, for example, or the number of homeopathic remedies and medicinal herbs, not to mention their component phytochemicals. Even the number of healing modalities or philosophies is astounding. The same complexity is true in conventional medical science as well. Molecular biology is where it’s at, and the cast of characters is mindboggling.

     Surely it must be simpler than that? Yes. It is.

     Life (and therefore health) just cannot be that complicated. Not at its core. Otherwise it would have expired long since, having ground to a halt at a single tricky step and collapsed under the enormous weight of its own complexity.

     Life is characterised by diversity, yes. It is also incredibly intricate as we follow it down from planetary systems to planets to species to populations to individuals to organs to cells to subcellular organelles to molecules to atoms to subatomic particles to ...  An infinite number and variety of moving parts! And yet, at its core life is a very simple process, and one that is inherently self-regulating and self-perpetuating.

     There’s very little we need do in order to sustain life. By the same token, there’s very little we can do to sustain life when life itself has decided otherwise, and very little point in trying.

     In other words, we have less control than we like to think. The good news, though, is that we need control life less than we seem to think. That is very good news, because it frees us to actually get on with living our lives and enjoying them, worrying less about managing our lives and the lives of those we love.


That's all for now. More soon,


-Dr. Chris King-
Nature's Apprentice
www.animavet.com

Eat when you’re hungry, drink when you’re thirsty, stop when you’re full.

Hello, world.
     It's been awhile since I've posted here. The past several months have been really rough, to say the least, but all the turmoil has made me get really clear on what I think and what I want to be doing with myself.
     For years now, I've had a recurring thought whenever I'd hear or read something about health: Surely it must be simpler than that. Whether it be acupuncture or astrophysics, herbal lore or phytopharmacology, we've managed to make it so darn complicated that it takes a lifetime to thoroughly learn just one of these philosophies.
     And in the process, we get so caught up in all the details - many of which are fascinating, to be sure - that we fail to see the simple truth that, at its core, life takes care of itself. Despite all its intricate moving parts, life is fundamentally a very simple process. Mysterious, yes; but simple, too. Good health likewise is fundamentally very simple.
     That's because bodies - all bodies - are inherently designed to be self maintaining, self regulating, and self repairing, over a lifetime. And then they stop. Simple as that. Animals and plants don't know that, in the way we customarily think of knowing something. They just do it. Spontaneously. And simply. They just go about the business of living with a simplicity and directness that humbles - and at times humiliates - this exalted human mind.
     The funny thing about this realisation is that it renders me redundant! except in my own life and that of my dog (whose feeding and other basic care is my responsibility). It really is quite ironic, if not actually humorous, given how I've been trying to make my living (as a veterinarian).
     Redundant - unless my role changes from "healthcare provider" (what an absurd term!) to teacher or coach. LIFE coach, in the fullest sense of the term. Another thing that has slowly dawned on me is how many of us have lost the ability to take good basic care of ourselves. We rely so much on others to tell us how to live and what to do to restore our health when - inevitably! - it fails that in one sense we're more helpless now than when we were babies. Have you noticed, for example, that there are now classes, books, and DVDs on how to breathe properly? On how to breathe! Good god, we've forgotten how to breathe!! That's a sad commentary on modern "life."
     So, if you will permit me to shift gears a little, it will be my great delight to share with you what I'm learning about life, from life. The theme is SIMPLICITY.


Eat when you’re hungry, drink when you’re thirsty, stop when you’re full.


This course in simplicity is going to take the form of a series of simple phrases. Things you could fit on a bumper sticker or a t-shirt. The point, after all, is simplicity.
     This first one is fundamentally about listening to your body. The body has some very sophisticated mechanisms for regulating its intake of food and water. But the "sophisticated" human mind thinks it knows better or that it doesn't need to pay attention to such primitive and pesky things. We've even made the mental over-rides of our body's signals part of our common language.
     "Lunchtime," for example. There is no such thing in all of nature. There's sunrise, there's sunset, and somewhere in between there's the middle of the day; but there is no fixed time of day when a meal should be eaten. Personally, I'm seldom hungry at lunchtime. That's because I'm seldom hungry at breakfast-time, so I seldom eat breakfast until mid- to late-morning. In fact, I'm happy with just two meals a day. That's all my body wants, so as often as I possibly can, that's how I eat: when I'm hungry, and until I'm not hungry anymore.
     We've become accustomed to feeding our animals the same way we eat - at set times of the day - when they would be healthiest and happiest if we would give them as much freedom as possible in choosing when and how much to eat and drink. Although, there is a trap to be avoided here, and that's the influence of boredom and stress on eating and drinking habits. The quality and quantity of the diet is important, too, as I'll discuss in later posts. Obesity is a very serious health problem in domestic animals, just as it is in domestic humans.
     But please don't let the challenges stop you from trying. Please give some thought to how you might move a little closer to nature's way of feeding her own in your particular circumstances. And then move a little closer still. This issue is an ongoing challenge for me, and I continue to tinker with it. It's easy enough for me to eat when I'm hungry, but I'm also responsible for feeding a dog. Here are my thoughts on feeding domestic dogs on a more natural "timetable" (knowing there's no such thing).
     By nature, dogs are rather opportunistic feeders. They eat their fill when food is available, even what you or I might call overeating if the food supply has been spotty. When food is scarce, they either hunt or scavenge, eating whatever they can find until their hunger is satisfied.
     What I do with that basic physiological and psychological template for Ms. Lilly is still a work in progress. The variety and opportunity components are easy enough, as I've been making a point of feeding her lots of different things, including leftovers from my dinner. (I may also share part of my meal with her if it's something she likes. Inexplicably, salads remain a "no sale" :-).
     The timing element remains a challenge, though. For now, I address the "eat when you're hungry" by paying attention to her. For example, when she comes up to me and politely asks for my attention while I'm down the rabbit hole of the computer screen, I'm getting better at noticing, asking her what she wants, and hearing that she's hungry and wants to eat. It's her choice, not mine. Because she's tuned in to her body, while I was on the computer, not even tuned in to my own :-)
     Another way I'm trying to address it is to feed her a large enough meal that I'm replicating what happens when a wild dog eats its fill at a fresh carcass or other food source. The dog is then satisfied for several hours. Dogs seem to prefer to be meal-feeders, not grazers, and their digestive systems would appear to be set up for meal feeding, although they certainly may "graze" or forage for food if a single meal doesn't satisfy. So, generally I feed Ms. Lilly a satisfying meal at least once a day (usually of an evening, as I've discussed before). Although on weekends especially, we may both "graze" our way lightly through the day. Short fasts from time to time are a natural thing.
     I also don't begrudge her the occasional "found object" when we're out on walks. Discarded hamburger buns, french fries, and DQ shakes may not be good for the body, but they sure are good for the soul. Dog manna! I'm almost as happy for her as she is when she scores such a find :-) Because scavenging for food is a natural thing for dogs.


     "Drink when you're thirsty" is easy enough with our animals. I just wanted to share some human-specific thoughts on this subject, as I've been both vexed and amused at the admonition by "health experts" for us to 'drink at least eight 8-oz glasses of water a day.' The advice continues that we should drink even when we're not thirsty, because by the time we register thirst, we're already dehydrated.
     Well, duh! The point of replenishing one's body fluids by drinking is to correct de-hydration; in other words, to re-hydrate. Drinking when you're not thirsty is the same as eating when you're not hungry: you'll end up taking in more than your body needs, which is not healthy. In fact, hyperhydration (excessive fluid intake) can be every bit as problematic as dehydration.
     There is nothing wrong with being mildly and transiently dehydrated. It's a normal physiological state, one that is corrected simply by drinking some water. It is neither necessary nor healthy to try to pre-empt dehydration by drinking in advance of one's need. Our bodies don't work that way; we can't store water in our humps! What happens instead is that we pee out the excess water within minutes of overhydrating - along with electrolytes, vitamins, and other small water-soluble molecules our bodies need to function well.

     I once tried drinking the requisite 64 oz. of water per day. I spent the day going to the bathroom every 30 minutes, peeing like a racehorse. Now, that may not cause any serious health problems if it's for just one day. But over time, such a practice may interfere with the body's ability to regulate its own water balance. Healthy kidneys use a concentration gradient of electrolytes (sodium and potassium, in particular) across their tubules to concentrate the urine and thus regulate the body's water balance. With excessive drinking comes excessive urine production, which weakens that concentration gradient, so over time the kidney becomes less able to concentrate the urine. It's a condition called renal medullary washout, and it can be a serious problem if it's not corrected.

    Here's another fun fact about this obsessive water drinking from veterinary medicine: In animals, there is a condition of confinement (boredom and/or stress) called psychogenic polydipsia. Decoded, that means excessive water drinking - i.e. water intake beyond one's physiological needs - caused by a mental/emotional disorder. The animal drinks excessively (and therefore pees excessively), not because there is anything wrong with the kidneys or with the central regulation of thirst, but because of a psychological disorder.
     In my view, humans who drink when they are not thirsty and continue to drink beyond the point of satiety are exhibiting the primary symptom of psychogenic polydipsia.
     (Have you cottoned yet to the fact that I'm an iconoclast? ...  :-)

     Homeostasis is not a static state; it is a dynamic process, a continual see-sawing around a theoretical stillpoint. It is not the stillpoint itself, but rather the process of maintaining balance in the face of change. To never be dehydrated is to never be alive.

     Why must we pathologise everything our bodies do?

     If we were to simply listen to our bodies, we would eat when we're hungry, drink when we're thirsty, and stop when we've had enough. Let's figure out some simple ways that allow the animals in our care to do the same. Please share any simple strategies you come up with to address this principle, and I'll pass them on to everyone else.

     That's it for now. Until next time,


-Dr. Chris King-
Nature's Apprentice
www.animavet.com

Resisting Change

It has been said that one definition of insanity is to keep doing the same thing over and over, and expecting a different outcome. I suspect that that was first said somewhat facetiously, because there is certainly a case to be made for patience and perseverance—in other words, to keep at it until you achieve the desired result.

However, there is also a case to be made for the futility of wanting something to change, but being unwilling to change anything. I see this playing out over and over again in my practice: the person wants her animal to stop being lame or sick or whatever the problem is, but is unwilling to make any substantive changes to what she is doing in regard to the animal. “I just want what I’m doing to work!” is the impossible mandate.

I make this same mistake myself, in various aspects of my life.

I think what is wrong here is a fundamental misunderstanding or a forgetting of our place in the whole. There also seems to be a modicum of arrested development, because as advanced as we think ourselves to be, as enlightened and aware, we are acting like spoiled children when we insist that things work out to our liking.

I sure can understand the seductive pull of the popular “anything is possible; you can have anything you want” credo, promoted in books such as The Secret, Ask and It is Given, and Secrets of the Lost Mode of Prayer, and even in Shakira’s latest pop hit (anything in the world; “anything you want you can make it yours”). I even believed it myself for a time—until I very nearly came unglued with the most intense frustration I’ve ever experienced in my life!

You see, I think this drivel is just another symptom of that fundamental misunderstanding.

We do not get to have whatever we want. And that’s a good thing, because we just never really know the true purpose of anything. At least, not until much later. Here is a beautiful fragment from one of my favourite authors:

“We make our way through Everything like thread passing through fabric: giving shape to images that we ourselves do not know.”

[Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Ulrich Baer in Letters on Life]

Like thread passing through fabric, giving shape to images we’ll never see, because we’re a formative and inextricable part of them. Gives fresh meaning to that hackneyed phrase, “the rich tapestry of life.” We are each just one single thread in the rich tapestry of life. How absurd to think that we can or should dictate the final image.

What has this to do with resisting change? Everything, because resistance to change is nothing more than insistence on getting our own way. Good luck with that :-)

More soon,

-Dr. Chris King-

Nature's Apprentice

www.animavet.com

Parasites

I've been thinking alot about parasites lately. It seems to me that "parasite" is like "weed." A weed is simply a plant we don't have any use for, or that is occupying a space or behaving in a way we don't want it to. Same with a parasite: it's something we don't have any use for, or that is present somewhere or doing something we don't approve of.

But I think that's a very humancentric concept, and a very adversarial, "us vs. them" approach, at that. As with everyone and everything else on the planet, the organisms we call parasites have a place and a purpose.

To put this idea to a rigorous, real-world test, I decided to consider one of the nastiest parasites we have in veterinary medicine: heartworm (Dirofilaria immitis). Its place is inside a dog or some other suitable mammalian host. Its purpose presently eludes me, but I believe it does have one. The adversarial view of life would suggest that its "purpose" on the planet, if it has one at all, is to control the population of dogs. While that may well be part of it, I think this view is fundamentally flawed, not to mention incomplete; it just doesn't include all of the facts. I believe that there can - and even should - be a healthy balance between parasite and host, a dynamic that is mutually beneficial.

The benefit to the parasite is obvious: a warm, well-protected place to live, where food is plentiful - that is, as long as the host stays alive. (Note that there is absolutely no benefit to killing, or even harming, the host; because in so doing, the parasite would sign its own death warrant. The idea of parasites as population control just doesn't hold up.)

But what is the benefit to the host? Not to gross you out, but immunologists are now using pig worms to treat allergic conditions in humans. So, one benefit to the parasite-host relationship evidently involves restoring a more healthy immune system response in the host. Whether the host's immune system needs to develop greater vigor or greater tolerance, the presence of a parasite appears able to facilitate it.

Problems arise when there is a lack of balance between parasite and host, or the parasite winds up out of place (e.g. in the wrong host or in the wrong tissue within the right host). Perhaps instead of focusing on killing the worms, we should be emphasizing host health, in the true sense of the word "health" - including physical, psychological, social, and environmental aspects - and restoring a healthy balance between parasite and host, to our mutual benefit. The same is true for the dynamic between host and resident bacteria. That's a fascinating symbiosis... Perhaps I'll write about that next time.

It is possible for a healthy dog to be heartworm positive, and it is just as possible for a heartworm-positive dog to be healthy. It's all about balance. But isn't that true of almost every facet of life?

Stay tuned,

-Dr. Chris King-

Nature's Apprentice

www.animavet.com

Viruses

Viruses have been getting a lot of press lately, so I figured I’d share some of my mental ramblings about them, in case something in these musings is helpful to you.

My thinking on viruses was pretty conventional until I was driving back home from a USDA (U.S. Department of Agriculture) veterinary accreditation course. The drive was long, and for the first few hours, the scenery was rather boring, so I dropped into that meditative state peculiar to driving on long, flat, straight stretches of highway.

On my mind were the grizzly images I’d seen during the course, of animals afflicted with African horse sickness, foot and mouth disease, and other horrible viral infections. As I wondered what on earth life was up to with such awful things, I eventually had a surprising epiphany.

But first, I began by listing some things I knew about viruses:

* viruses are little more than fragments of DNA or RNA; some have thin coverings (called envelopes) and others do not, but in essence, all viruses are simply code

* specific viruses have an affinity for specific types of cells, and they code for specific cell behaviours, and thus they cause specific symptoms

* viruses can only replicate inside a living cell; in fact, most cannot survive for very long outside the host’s body

* with a few well-publicised exceptions, viruses tend to be highly species-specific

The thought then arose: what if viruses are fragments of ourselves (well, our species, anyway), broken off or left behind for some reason at the time of death or some other big, life-changing event? And what if viral infection is, in effect, that fragmented part of ourselves trying to be reintegrated and thus restored to wholeness; to come home, as it were?

I didn’t tell anyone about this idea; it was too kooky. I simply put it quietly to the test. I didn’t have to look very far for a suitable subject: I have my own resident virus, having suffered from cold sores since I was a teenager. (Herpes viruses, including the herpes simplex viruses that cause cold sores around the mouth, have a habit of latency, reappearing when conditions are suitable.)

The next time I felt that ominous tingling in my lip, I sat quietly and, instead of trying to kill the virus with one thing or another, I invited the virus to “come home,” to reintegrate, be restored—and restore me—to wholeness.

Guess what: I didn’t get that cold sore. And the times I’ve subsequently tried this approach at the first sign of an impending head cold, I didn’t get that cold. I’ve lived long enough to know the warning signs of these common viral infections in my body, how susceptible I am to viral infections, and how long the course of infection usually takes, so the results of this informal little experiment fairly blew my mind. I’ve since played with it in a few of my patients, with delightfully good results. I've also added to the theory...

Thoughts and emotions are perhaps even more infectious than viruses, bacteria, and other microbes, especially the “negative” emotions such as anger and fear. As Dr. Candace Pert lays out in her book Molecules of Emotion, within our bodies our thoughts and emotions use the plethora of messenger molecules (neurotransmitters, hormones, etc.) as their physical vehicles. So, I’m now thinking that every type of virus might represent a specific thought-form (thought-in-form?), a mental or emotional part of ourselves that requires healing or reintegrating, returning us to wholeness.

I also got to wondering what it is that renders one individual susceptible to a particular virus and another individual relatively impervious to that virus. I suspect that the particular virus matches the particular chinks in the individual’s armor; not to get in and cause trouble, but to get in and help restore wholeness.

Depending on how one looks at it, either the virus is highlighting points of weakness that can then be addressed, or it is entering who or where it can in order to be reintegrated. Either way, it should be a mutually beneficial arrangement.

But if that’s true, then why isn’t it what we usually experience? Why do viral infections make so many of us sick? Well, consider how you feel about viruses. For most of us, we could sum it up in one word: adversarial. We use words such as “combat,” “kill,” and “antiviral” when discussing viruses. Is it any wonder that we have an adversarial relationship with viruses?

One could argue that we feel this way about viruses because they make us sick, that the virus’s bad reputation is well-deserved. I can’t argue with that, although it does seem rather chicken-or-egg to me. What if you were to befriend the virus instead, invite it in, or at least be open to hearing what its presence is telling you about yourself and the way you’re living?

When I take the time to shift my perception in this way, I’m invariably the better for it, and the viral infection does not manifest in full.

Just something to think about as “flu season” approaches.

More soon,

Dr. Chris King

Nature's Apprentice

www.animavet.com 

Being changed

I’ve been thinking alot lately about how much we humans are in the habit of ordering our world to our liking, and how upset we get when we don’t get our way. Even when it comes to our animals, we want it all our way, even convincing ourselves that the decisions we’re making are on the animal’s behalf, when in reality we are serving our own self-interest. We want everyone and everything to dance to our tune, to do our bidding.

Our secular culture of materialism supports and encourages us. Even the quasispiritual teachings of this new age tell us we can have what we want. What chance do we have of breaking free of this destructive mindset?

The secret, I’m discovering, lies in balance: The balance between the impulsion to create, to grow, to produce something useful, if not novel, and the need to be content, still, and at peace. And the balance between getting what we want and not getting it.

In a recent meditation, I wondered how the natural world of animals and plants and other creatures get what they want and handle it when they don’t get what they want. The answer was so very simple that I still can hardly take it in:

“How do you get what you want?” I asked.

“We go get it,” they replied.

“But what do you do when you don’t get it?” I asked.

“We don’t get it,” they replied.

“Yes, but what if you really want it?” I asked.

“Then we go get it,” they replied.

“Yes, but what if you don’t get it?” I asked.

“Then we don’t get it,” they replied.

On and on like that it went, until I gave up. It’s so obvious, so simple, so patently self-evident that I just couldn’t make it fit with the way I’m used to operating.

Yesterday, after a weekend of happy but tiring work in my garden, I stumbled upon another insight into this balance thing that I hadn’t been seeing: the importance of letting the natural world act upon me, at the same time as I’m acting upon it.

Hard to explain in words, but there is a dynamo effect of endless, renewing flow that feels like life itself which occurs when we both act and allow ourselves to be acted upon; to be changed, even as we are creating change. Which comes first? Does it even matter?

And what does this mean for the way we operate in the physical world, and how we relate to our animals, plants, and other nonhuman beings that we love or value? Still working on that...

More soon,

Dr. Chris King

Nature's Apprentice

www.animavet.com

On starchy foods

For years now I’ve been recommending a low-starch diet for dogs and cats. (Starchy foods include all grains, as well as certain root veggies such as potatoes, sweet potatoes, and tapioca.) Carnivores are adapted to getting the bulk of their calories from animal proteins, fats, and presumably the glycogen stored in their prey’s muscle tissue and liver. They are not well adapted to diets that are rich in starches and other carbohydrates.

It wasn’t until recently that I fully understood the negative impact of feeding a diet that is high in starches (i.e. the typical commercial dog or cat food).

For the past year or two, I’ve kept myself on a mostly raw-food diet (~ 80% raw, 20% cooked). I feel really good when I eat this way; I feel lighter, cleaner, and both calmer and more energised.

But it does take some adjustments in the way I shop and prepare my food. Being the lazy bum that I am, sooner or later I end up slacking off and, to some extent, reverting back to my former way of eating, which is more cooked foods than raw.

When that happens, I start feeling crummy again; I feel heavy, gummy, tired, achey, and grumpy. I wake up in the morning feeling unrested, touchy, sad, and stiff & sore, as if I’m a sickly 80 years old; and I drink lots of fluids, but my skin still seems dehydrated. I even woke up one morning with that line from Garth Brooks’ rodeo song playing in my head: “I’m too damn young to feel this damn old!”

So, this last time I decided to not only recommit to eating mostly raw foods, but to also make a little study of what starchy foods do to my body. I’d remembered hearing some (older) veterinary colleagues discussing their own health issues and one recommending a starch-free diet; and as I said, I’ve been recommending to dog and cat owners for years to take starchy foods out of their pets’ diets. But I was still eating some starchy foods (primarily bread) myself.

Here’s what happened when I stopped eating bread, rice, pasta, and other cooked starches: within 2 or 3 days I felt good again on my mostly-raw diet; and whenever I would break down and buy a sandwich for lunch, I’d start to feel crummy within a couple of hours, and on into the next day. I’ve “tested” the effects several times now, all with the same result. (By the way, I’m having no trouble with sprouted grains eaten raw; just with cooked grains.)

Why is that? Is it because the readily digestible starches are creating large swings in blood glucose (big peaks followed by big drops)? Or is it because some portion of the starch makes it to the large intestine and messes with the microflora there, which has systemic effects on the host (me)? Is there also an effect on the immune system? (With something like 70% of the immune system's cells embedded in the lining of the gut - the gut-associated lymphoid tissue - that certainly must be considered.) I’m not sure exactly.

All I know for sure is this: when I eat a lot of cooked starches, I feel bad. And it’s no stretch for me to correlate what I’m feeling in my own body, with regard to physical symptoms, mood, and energy, with what I see in my patients on commercial dog or cat food diets.

The lesson: feed a species-appropriate diet of fresh, minimally processed foods. For dogs and cats, that means mostly animal sources, and little or no starch. More on feeding dogs and cats in future posts. In the meantime, here’s the link to an article I wrote on how I feed my own dog: www.animavet.com/feedingdogs.html.

(And here’s another on feeding horses: http://www.animavet.com/feedinghorses.html.)

Stay tuned...

Dr. Chris King

Nature's Apprentice

www.animavet.com