Snippets from Madeline Island and Preliminary Results from Rutgers

My friend Greg worked hard to push my wheelchair through the sand onto a beautiful beach on the south shore of Lake Superior. Our two families camped three nights and four days on Madeline Island. The lake was uncharacteristically calm, the sand fine like fairy dust, and the water stunningly clear. The sun was uncomfortably hot, but the spectacle before us was undeniable. We had stumbled into an unforgettable late morning.

I sat on a beach towel, trying to feel everything I could. My son Paul and Greg's son Nathan took to the water immediately, undeterred by the adult-repellent cold temperature. One time I heard the boys yell back to us that they could no longer feel their legs. Another time Paul yelled that he got a "brain freeze" when he dove into a wave.

I watched a middle-age couple step from the wooded path onto the beach. As they dipped their feet into the lake water, the woman turned to the man and said, "This reminds me of Croatia." I have to say this is not something I hear everyday, let alone on a remote island in Lake Superior. I laughed at my first absurdly biased media-induced thought, "Hey, this vista can't look like Croatia...there's only war and destruction in Croatia." I shared my thought with Greg and he told me of a cookbook he had been reading. Apparently there is amazing coastal cuisine that developed in what is now Croatia, along the beautiful shores of the Adriatic Sea. On that beach, under the warm sun, I imagined that I was sneaking a glimpse of the beautiful Croatian coastline.

The whole excursion to Madeline Island was a surprise. Camping is not particularly easy when you are dependent on a wheelchair, when emptying your bladder and bowels must be an organized event, not a passing thought. Possibilities are changing for people with extra needs, however. The campground on Madeline Island had a designated accessible campsite - number 29. It was located directly across a paved road from a building that housed the bathrooms, showers, and the community water spigot. Because I was registered for campsite 29, I was given an access key to a private bathroom and shower for people with special needs. I was grateful each time I unlocked that door. It was a relief not to worry about taking too much time, not to worry if my hands were clean enough to catherterize myself, or to have a hand-held shower so I could actually control the water flow. These things were not possible when I was injured thirty years ago. They are possible now because our society has placed value in ensuring architectural access to a wider range of experiences.

Our society is becoming more accessible, especially as it relates to physical barriers. This creates opportunities like what I had on Madeline Island. My work with yoga and and my non-profit Mind Body Solutions is working to create a different kind of access for people living with disabilities. I am teaching them to inwardly access their own bodies, to find a subtle level of sensation that can transform their lives. I know that this inward access is possible because I experience it both when I practice yoga and when I teach yoga to others. But more proof is needed to help others believe. So earlier this month I agreed to put my head in a MRI machine at Rutgers University when doing some basic yoga poses. The preliminary results are more than we could have hoped for. My sensory cortex is lighting in ways and at levels of intensity that are seemingly unexplainable. When someone pushes on my bladder, the analogous region in my sensory cortex lights up. When someone pushes on my feet, that region also lights in my sensory cortex....there are other examples but you get the picture. This unexplained activity in my sensory cortex also appears to be spilling over into my motor cortex. The lead researcher Dr. Barry Kominsaruk is stumped as to how this is happening, but IT IS happening. The subtle level of inward sensation that I experience in my own body is now getting "objective" validation. Of course, more tests are needed, a larger study, and of course, more money. Such is the way our society grows the experience of one person to eventually help the experience of a multitude of others.