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The Spider's Way: Threads of Being

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I took these photos one quiet morning in a garden near my breakfast spot on the northern coast of Madeira, in the village of Arco de São Jorge. The evening before, I’d stood on an ocean cliff under bougainvillea, watching the sun disappear into the Atlantic (the subject of another blog here ). But this morning offered something quieter, and perhaps stranger. Just outside the restaurant garden, something caught my eye — an enormous spiderweb, glistening with dew, anchored between banana leaves, shrubs, and distant trees — and silence. It wasn’t a single web but a vast, interwoven network — a silk metropolis, with its members quietly moving in its many chambers with purpose. I’m 6’1”, and this complex rose well above my head and stretched wider than my outstretched arms. I found myself standing in front of it, still, awed not just by its physical scale, but by the invisible intelligence behind it. Spiders do not consult blueprints. They do not take measurements. They simply spin. Not bec...
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Arjuna in Java: Myth, Medicine, and the Modern Battlefield

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  I took this photo while wandering through a quiet alleyway in Yogyakarta, Java, in March 2025. I was en route to visit Borobudur, the world’s largest Buddhist temple, and later Prambanan, where I had planned to watch an open-air Ramayana performance under the stars. Yogyakarta offered more than just temples. I spent my days exploring local bookstores, browsing batik masks, and photographing alley murals—an interest that echoes in my living room, where canvases by El Seed hang like visual sutras. In one of those alleys, I came across this piece of street art. As a physician during the COVID pandemic, I found it uniquely striking: a figure in traditional wayang costume aims not an arrow but a vaccination syringe at the virus. The archer is Arjuna, or Arjuno in Javanese, one of the most beloved heroes in Indonesia’s shadow puppetry tradition. In Javanese wayang, the archer with the distinctive headgear, slender form, and poised longbow is almost always Arjuna, a figure culturally r...
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From Faust to Sisyphus to the Bodhisattva: The Intuition Beyond Intellect

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I took this photo in 2018 in Leipzig, Germany, inside Auerbachs Keller— a restaurant made famous in Goethe’s  Faust.  Mephistopheles, emissary of the Devil, stops for dinner with Faust before leading him into the underworld on his pursuit of eternal knowledge. As you can see here, outside the entrance stands a bronze sculpture capturing one of the play’s most iconic scenes: Faust at the brink of his journey and the start of his entanglements with Mephistopheles — an emblem for humanity’s own entanglement with the seductive yet destabilizing pursuit of power and knowledge. The visit felt personally meaningful to me, not just because of the literary reference, but because I, too, had dinner there and have been on that same journey — a search for knowledge, mastery, and meaning that mirrors Faust’s own. I prefer Marlowe’s  Doctor Faustus , written nearly three hundred years earlier, maybe because it ends with Faust’s damnation — a fitting metaphor for our modern condition, w...
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Between Spice and Stillness: A Body in Balance

The smell of spice was everywhere on this hot and humid Delhi morning: golden turmeric, deep-red chili, warm cardamom, and smoky cumin — an intoxicating blend that floated and settled on your skin. Everywhere, color danced and pulsed: saffron saris, indigo turbans, piles of chili powder bursting like embers, and sandstone buildings washed in teal and faded rose. All the while, the market buzzed with vendors calling out prices, bicycle bells ringing, and the rhythmic clatter of rickshaw wheels over stone. Color saturated the scene. Women’s saris glowed in shades of saffron, fuchsia, and peacock blue. Fresh powders were piled high in brilliant reds and golden yellows. The old buildings wore coats of time-softened paint, cracked but vivid: teal shutters, faded rose facades, bright laundry strung like prayer flags between balconies. Our guide had begun explaining the various spices, but my attention drifted — transfixed by something else. As you can see here, a young woman passed in front ...
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Climb Like a Donkey — Toward a New Perspective

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It was a summer afternoon back in 2023 — a sweltering Rajasthani one, the kind where the heat wraps around you like a heavy cloak. Temperatures soared above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. The sun didn’t just shine — it beat down on you, relentlessly. The ancient stone beneath our feet radiated stored heat, turning the climb into something elemental. We had stopped at Ranthambore Fort on our way from Jaipur to Ranthambore National Park, where we were headed for a tiger safari. It was just my two boys and I. My younger son looked up at the long, seemingly endless staircase and groaned. “Stairs,” he muttered — a tired echo of Po from  Kung Fu Panda , staring up at his greatest foe. I smiled. “Cheer up. This is an experience. Life is one big experience — and if you understand that, you understand the meaning of it all.” As we began our slow ascent, monkeys peered at us from the ramparts, clearly eyeing our water bottles. Then I noticed something unusual: a man guiding his donkeys up the same ...
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Stop: The Doorway to Silence

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  Stop. A breath rests between inhale and exhale. A heart waits between beats. But the truest stillness is between thoughts. Here, stress dissolves. Here, life begins again. ----------- The word  “stop”  is universal — instantly recognized in its bold red octagon almost anywhere in the world. But what does it truly mean to stop, not just in traffic, but in life? I captured this image in front of a hotel in Siem Reap on New Year’s Eve 2023. At its center, the flowing curves of the local script add a quiet elegance, like a visual pause within the sign itself. It invites us to look past the literal message and into the subtle stops that exist in our breath, our heartbeat, and even our thoughts. Your breath, for instance, seems continuous, yet hidden within it are tiny pauses — brief moments of stillness. After an inhale, there’s a subtle, often unconscious hold before the body releases into the exhale. After the exhale, there’s typically a slightly longer pause before the ne...
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The Art of Making Do: An Encounter with Jugaad on the Road Less Traveled

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The sun beat down on the dusty road as we left the magnificent Chand Baori stepwell in Abhaneri, heading towards Jaipur. The ancient structure, a testament to human ingenuity, had left me awestruck. But the journey itself was about to reveal another facet of India's resourceful spirit. As we traversed a small, impoverished village, the sight of camel-drawn carts was quickly overshadowed by something truly unique – a contraption that stopped me in my tracks. Captured in this photograph I took in 2018 is what can only be described as a testament to practical brilliance. A rudimentary truck, cobbled together from a basic metal pull cart frame, clunky wheels, and a simple tractor engine, stood before us. The wooden cargo bed, weathered and worn, hinted at countless journeys and heavy loads. It was a far cry from any vehicle I'd seen before, yet it was clearly fulfilling a vital purpose. My driver, Banti, sensing my curiosity, pulled the car to a halt. "Jugaad (जुगाड़),...
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Seeds of Karma: Unfolding the Tapestry of Life

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The giant sequoia ( Sequoiadendron giganteum ) stands as a testament to nature's grandeur. I recently encountered this magnificent species in two distinct settings: Sequoia National Park in California, during the summer of 2024, and at the Mata-Jardim José do Canto in the Azores, a few months later. The Azorean sequoia, one of the few on the islands, originated from seeds brought from California. While both trees share the characteristic towering trunk, reddish-brown bark, and overall form of a giant sequoia, subtle differences are apparent. The Azorean tree, though healthy and thriving in the humid, temperate climate, is not as tall as its California counterpart, and its bark possesses a distinct quality. These variations highlight the profound influence of environment on even the most genetically predisposed organisms. It's a reminder that while the seed holds the potential, its unfolding is intricately woven into the tapestry of its surroun...
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Twenty Years Ago Today. A Vision of Hope

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  Twenty years ago today, this  article  was published about a surgery I performed on a two-year-old girl named Alaa, a child blinded by war. Shrapnel from an American tank shell—fired on a children’s birthday party mistaken for an insurgent gathering—killed most of her cousins and family members. It left Alaa with a torn abdomen and filled her eyes with metal fragments that would rust and poison her ocular tissue. At the time, a local law student, Ashley Severance, contacted me at my private practice, asking if I could help. The surgeon originally scheduled to remove Alaa’s eyes had backed out—fearful, in that post-9/11 era, that saving this child might be seen as aiding the enemy rather than helping a fellow human being. I knew I had to try. If it were my child, I would want someone to do everything possible. father told me, “It’s not fair that a young child will never get to see her mother again.” He was told to let her die—her...
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Time to Mate. Love in the Serengeti.

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That morning, deep in the Serengeti, as I ventured out on a walking safari to witness the great wildebeest migration, I joked with my guide that I felt the urge to "mark my territory," so that lions knew who’s king of the jungle, or in this case savannah. He laughed, and we wandered, stepping into the vast wilderness on foot. As we walked, we spotted a male lion resting with two females in the distance. My guide nudged me, saying, “Let’s go, it’s getting late.” But I had a feeling something was about to happen. “No, let’s wait a bit longer,” I said, keeping my eyes on the scene. The lions stirred. I noticed them gazing intently toward the bush in the distance, where I could see rustling through my binoculars. The male and his lead lioness got up, walking in the direction of the movement. Then, from afar, another lioness approached—likely a new member of the pride. The male without hesitation left his mate behind and lay down, waiting. And then, ...
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Beyond Understanding: Grokking the Reality Beyond Words.

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Elon  Musk’s AI startup, announced in July 2023, claims to seek “to understand the true nature of the universe,” according to its website. While this ambition is intriguing, it mirrors a timeless quest—one that sages and philosophers, have embarked on long before Musk. Case in point, the Buddha. The paradox, however, is that the true nature of the universe cannot be understood by “trying” to understand it. The act of understanding depends on a matrix of symbols, concepts, and language—constructs of the human mind, or what is referred to in eastern metaphysics as Maya. Any search for meaning within these frameworks is inherently limited by them. Kurt Gödel demonstrated in his incompleteness theorems that no system can explain itself entirely; it can only be understood by stepping beyond it. The same applies to our conceptual descriptions and models of reality. In much the same way, to truly grasp the universe, we must transcend the conceptual systems we use to describe it. This deep...
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The Scent of Now

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Petrichor , the enchanting earthly aroma of freshly fallen rain on dry soil ( from Ancient Greek πέτρα 'rock' or πέτρος 'stone' and ἰχώρ, the ethereal fluid that is the blood of the gods in Greek mythology ) , is a complex phenomenon. Produced by a chemical called geosmin, secreted by Streptomyces bacteria, this scent serves a fascinating purpose: attracting small arthropods. These creatures, in turn, consume the bacteria and disperse its spores, aiding in reproduction. Remarkably, humans possess an acute sensitivity to geosmin, despite our relatively weak olfactory sense. We can detect this compound in concentrations as low as 100 parts per trillion. The Japanese Buddhist concept of jijimuge , meaning "the unimpeded interpenetration of all phenomena," offers a profound lens through which to view this ephemeral experience. It encapsulates the idea of a universe interconnected without barriers, where all beings and things are inhe...
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Nature's Garden & the Harmonious Chaos of Existence.

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In March 2023, I captured this photo deep within the Amazon forests of Brazil. The dense tapestry of life unfolded before me—shrubs, trees, vines, and epiphytes interwoven, their fallen leaves forming a soft carpet on the forest floor. This, I thought, was nature’s garden—a wild, intricate masterpiece.  At first glance, it seems devoid of symmetry. Humans crave symmetry; we create orderly gardens with straight paths, and our footprints trace lines across the Earth. But nature defies our neat constructs. Its symmetry is different—a dance of curves, spirals, and organic shapes. No straight lines here. Circles emerge, imperfect and textured, like ripples on water. The golden ratio whispers in the curves of seashells and the spirals of hurricanes. Trees naturally thrive in biodiverse environments like forests, coexisting with fungi, epiphytes, and parasites. Twenty some years ago, when I settled in Lake Nona, the area boasted beautiful native forests. Sad...
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To Smile or not to Smile . . . Is there a Question?

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  I captured this photo in August 2023 on one of Gethsemane’s now bohemian colonial streets in Cartagena de Indias, Colombia. The image resonated with me because it serves as a gentle reminder: “Here, and now, smile.” Although smiling seems like an easy thing to do, for some, it isn’t. That day, I encountered a different perspective on laughter and smiles. As I strolled through the vibrant streets, I ran into a group of the city’s famous Palanqueras—women dressed in colorful skirts and turbans, their shawls gracefully draped around their shoulders. These women are experts at selling goods, balancing vast baskets of traditional treats and tropical fruit on their heads. They are named after San Basilio de Palenque, the first “free town” in the Americas, founded by those who escaped lives of slavery. Remarkably, this community remains mostly intact, not too far from Cartagena. Now, let’s delve into the intriguing tradition that connects smiles and mourn...
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The Hands are Dumber than the Eyes . . .

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Forget the Eiffel Tower or the Great Wall. This photo captures a different kind of adrenaline rush – me at the Berber Motor Speedway in Alabama. where I was pushing my limits at the Porsche Sport Driving School. The experience felt a lot like surgical training.  Each day started with classroom lectures from seasoned race car drivers, followed by practical sessions on the track and specially designed handling and drifting courses, and of course several races. Lunch and dinner provided opportunities to chat and network with fellow drivers and instructors. But the most captivating aspect wasn't the thrill of speed. It was the remarkable parallels between racing a high-performance Porsche and performing vitreoretinal surgery. Of course, the stakes are undeniably higher in surgery, but both activities require similar skills:  critical decision-making, split-second reactions, intricate hand and foot maneuvering, and continuous self-assessment to enh...
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Three Children. Happiness, Calmness, and Joy.

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  Oaxaca, Mexico "Quieres comprar una pulsera?," or for my non Spanish speaking readers, "Do you want to buy a bracelet?" At first, I said no but then I changed my mind. young girl selling bracelet in Oaxaca, Mexico "Yes, of course, but only if you tie it on my hand." The purpose of travel for me is to observe life, which, by the way, I was doing sitting comfortably on a bench alone in Oaxaca's Zocalo enoying all typical evening happenings. So I saw this as an opportunity to explore that objective a little further. "Do you go to school?" "No." "How old are you?" "I am 8." "So what do you do all day?" "I live in the pueblo nearby and I make these bracelets, and my mother makes pottery while my dad works in the village and we come here and sell it on the weekends." "What happens if you do not sell enough bracelets? Do you have enough to eat?" "Yes, if I don’t sell enough, my mom ...
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