The process of becoming

About 18 years ago, I started a WordPress blog called Deepest Health with the intent to brain-dump my way through medical school at National University of Natural Medicine. I didn’t expect anybody to read it—but they did. Eventually, I was able to teach a course and connect with East Asian medicine enthusiasts all over the world.

I graduated with a degree in Classical Chinese Medicine in 2009, and almost immediately my writing dropped off. The demands of clinical practice and running a business took over. Then I started teaching at my alma mater—an activity that would dominate the next decade of my life. Blogging became an afterthought, and online resources for EAM students and practitioners became more numerous. This was a wonderful development, but it also meant reaching an audience became more difficult.

In 2016, we moved our clinic from Portland to Astoria, Oregon, on the coast, and the business absolutely exploded. We continue to encounter demand that far outstrips our capacity to meet it. And yet—despite the great success and extra work that naturally brings—the difficulty of keeping things running has lessened. By the time COVID rolled around, changing all of our lives, we had already been stewarding Watershed Wellness for a decade. Turns out, you learn a thing or two in ten years, and what used to be a challenge begins to ease.

This has opened up time and energy for… other things. I’ve entered deeply into Zen practice. I’ve spent significant time reengineering my Personal Knowledge Management (PKM) system. I’ve opened new chapters in the development of my clinical skills. And, as the business has matured, new areas of exploration have opened up—we continue to push the envelope in terms of what we do, and how we do it, as people committed to building something meaningful that might outlive us and enrich the lives of others.

In early 2025, I realized that the old familiar itch to write had returned. The environment of online writing and teaching has changed a lot in the last 20 years. I do worry that these words will be gobbled up by AI or lost in the noise—that the people I hope to reach won’t be reachable. But ultimately, writing is an act of creation, and creation doesn’t need a witness to be valuable. So, I’ll proceed.

I’ve taken up the name Whole Life Practitioner, which is what Amanda and I used in the past for coaching work with East Asian medicine practitioners. We’re not currently doing that work, and that blog was never particularly active, so I’m both reclaiming space and, hopefully, doing something more useful with it. Time will tell.

My goal for now is simply to write about what’s on my mind. The topics will range widely, but you can expect some combination of the following to weave together in this space over the coming months:

• The practice and business of East Asian medicine
• Personal Knowledge Management, including my preferred software (The Brain) and orientation (Linking Your Thinking)
• Zen practice, and how it interpenetrates medical work
• The cultivation of Chinese herbs, and the practice of herbal medicine
• Various topics in the philosophy of science, epistemology, and comparative philosophy of medicine
• How to stay upright in a world that increasingly makes that difficult, which lends itself well to…
• Discussions of ethics, including environmental ethics, the ethic of care, and the ethics of running a medical practice in a country that doesn’t care much for human life
• Almost certainly, I’ll talk about the Pacific Northwest—the land I love—its flora and fauna, climate and lifeways
• Also cats

I don’t use social media anymore, so you won’t find me there. I’m experimenting with non-corporate solutions to share small snippets of life. For now, you can find those at micro.blog. No promises about how long that will last.

If you’d like to keep track of what I’m doing here, I have an email newsletter, and I’ll be using that regularly. You can also subscribe to the blog via RSS (if people still know how to do that). Eventually, I’ll be doing something on YouTube—but it’s going to take time to get into the groove. I’ll share that when it’s ready.