Bio + Philosophy

My journey into Oriental Medicine evolved through my personal journey towards balance and health. I was a performing musician playing classical piano as a soloist. Playing music I felt vibrant and alive... though my body was aching.

As time went on the physical demands of a performing career began taking its toll. I was so ecstatic to be playing this incredible music but I refused to heed the signs that my body was sending me. Oh, I tried within reason to accommodate my aching back and neck but I was so carried away by my passion for music that I only partially listened to what my body needed. Well, I learned the hard way.

Our bodies speak to us eloquently. Our bodies show us sometimes through pain and illness what we need to do, what we need to change and how soon we need to do it. I could not reconcile myself to the urgency at that time to what my body was asking of me. I couldn't afford to take time away from practicing. The pressures of the classical music world are great. I didn't see how I could afford to slow down and as a result my body's signals grew louder and louder. Eventually I had to stop playing completely. My career ended just as I was blossoming into it at age 19.

This began my journey to understand myself, my body, my passions and my need for balance. For the next decade I sought all and any therapies that might cure my injuries. I sought conventional care in Western Medicine but at that time musician's injuries were little understood. The year following my abrupt end to my performing career a medical breakthrough occurred in Boston at Massachusetts General Hospital. Well-known pianists such as Leon Fleischer and Gary Graffman came out of seclusion to talk about their injuries to the public. There was a new team of doctors at Massachusetts General who had begun to understand, diagnose and treat musicians with some success. I was interviewed and accepted into the program and flew with a one-way ticket to Boston.

The program did help but only to a degree. Many of the musicians had similar experiences. For many, having continued playing on already injured hands had proved rehabilitation elusive. This was my case as well. From there I sought all kinds of help and began a deeper path of introspection and observation. After some time, I began to realize that the language of the body has a poetry to it and that illness can be a catalyst for change and transformation on many levels. Examining not only the illness itself, the location in the body, but the details surrounding it. Looking at one's lifestyle, the states of one's mind and heart. Viewing the microcosm within the self as well as the macrocosm of the universe surrounding a person both on a small scale such as home, environment and family to the larger scale of the world in which we live and the effects it has upon us. I have found through my own experience as well as through those of many of my patients that I have seen over the past 12 years that the disease or condition one is seeking to treat can be the beginning of a journey of transformation of body, mind and spirit.