This past week, my wife went for an MRI, hoping to get to the bottom of some terrible foot pain that has made the simple act of walking excruciating. Because MRIs are expensive and often require multiple office visits to justify their cost to the health plan [insert angry emoji], Janice has been enduring this pain for months. We are hoping her MRI will pinpoint the problem and that she will soon once again be enjoying our daily walks, where she joyfully and expertly points out to me fresh tracks from deer, porcupines and the occasional bear.
It is hard to enjoy even simple things when one is in pain, and that is true whether the pain is physical, as in Janice’s case, or emotional, as is the case for just about anyone at some point in our lives. An MRI can be fairly definitive in aiding a diagnosis when the pain is physical. What about when something is nagging us or we are beset, even temporarily, by the woes of the world?
There is a famous poem by the Chinese philosopher Lao-Tse, the founder of Taoism, an ancient Chinese philosophy emphasizing humility. The poem reads:
If there is to be peace in the world,
There must be peace in the nations.
If there is to be peace in the nations,
There must be peace in the cities.
If there is to be peace in the cities,
There must be peace between neighbors.
If there is to be peace between neighbors,
There must be peace in the home.
If there is to be peace in the home,
There must be peace in the heart.
If you read just the first and last lines, what this poem teaches is that for there to be peace in the world, there must be peace in the heart. And that is easier said than done. Surrounded by so much noise, so much turmoil, so much busy-ness in our lives, how do we find—or create—peace in our hearts?
As a former and still-sometime medical writer, here is where I turn to science for an answer—in this case, biology. But I also turn to spirituality. For both biology and spirituality bid us to go deeper than the obvious questions. When I hear, “If there is to be peace in the home, there must be peace in the heart,” I want to go further, and say, if there must be peace in the heart, there must be peace in the soul, and if there must be peace in the soul, there must be peace in the cells.
That’s right. Cells. I like that soul and cell look so different on paper when you spell them but sound so similar when you say them. I think there is some wisdom there. Like the soul, cells are our essence, the basic building blocks of who we are. And you could go even further with this, with what might be called sacred biology: Cells are directed by proteins; proteins are directed by DNA, our genetic code, kind of the instruction manual for the proteins. Our DNA tells proteins how to be, and the proteins in turn tell our cells what to do, not unlike how our soul urges us how to be and what to do, albeit not in a way we can see under a microscope.
What is remarkable is that this genetic code, this instruction manual, can be changed by things we experience, like the daily updates about the war in Ukraine or the fear and weariness of being dismissed as different. The science that explores how these external forces change us is called epigenetics—literally, outside your genome, outside your DNA. We now know, for instance, that secondhand smoke can alter the genes of a nonsmoker and make someone who never smoked cigarettes vulnerable to lung cancer. That’s epigenetics. (My admittedly wry definition of epigenetics is, “Something funny happened on the way to the protein.”)
I know this discussion is kind of dense and seemingly non-magical. But let me tell you why it matters and what is magical about it.
It matters because peace out there begins with peace in here, in our cells. Conversely, if our cells are at unrest, then so is the world as we perceive it. Every cell in our bodies has a say in how we feel. If we pay more attention to our very cells, and try to still them, to relax them, we might find a stillness that seems to elude us in the daily tumult that can threaten to define our lives.
Which brings me back to Janice’s MRI.
Now, you may wonder, what does an MRI have to do with finding peace in my heart and in my very cells? Well, consider how MRI, or magnetic resonance imaging, works. Our bodies are mostly water, just like the earth. The water molecules that make up so much of our cells contain electrons, neutrons and protons, and those protons are constantly spinning. In MRI, a powerful electromagnet attracts all the protons, basically making all the cells stop, turn and face the same way. Then the magnet staggers its power again and again, making the cells spin again, stop again, and spin again, the vibrations creating radio waves, and these radio waves are translated into highly accurate images. This stop and start creates a vibration, a resonance. And in that resonance we get a true picture of what is inside of us.
It's kind of magical, when you think about it. To appreciate this invisible but potentially powerful force, here is a short magical meditation, courtesy of my magic studio. If you have AirPods or another headphone device, this would be a good time to use it:

Now, I’m not sayin’ how this is done, but think about what we’re talking about here.
So. Consider that the earth on which we live is a humongous magnet—which, in fact, it is. We have a north pole and south pole, just like the batteries we buy at the drugstore. In fact, if you travel to Finland or Iceland or one of the countries closest to the North Pole, which is the positive magnetic pole of the earth, you might experience the Aurora Borealis, also called The Northern Lights, the incredible display of waves of color in the sky that just might convince you there is a god.
What you are seeing when you see the Aurora Borealis is magnetic resonance. The particles in the air are vibrating to show their colors. And it is beautiful. In the same way, when life is a shifting carpet, when life pulls you one way and then another, causing all your cells to vibrate, it is then that you may see a most accurate picture of who you are, and who are you are meant to be. It is a prime example of The Flip-it Mentality, for rather than troubling, such a moment can be beautiful. Such a moment can make you stop and think what really matters.
I call this phenomenon spiritual resonance imaging, or SRI. When you are able to still all of your cells for a moment, and then, because of the craziness of life they go right back to vibrating, it is then that you become intimate with who you really are. It isn’t necessary to be still all of the time. But if you can still yourself for just a moment, I guarantee you that when the loud and illogical world rushes in to shake you, because you stopped for a moment to make all of your cells face the same way, you have created spiritual resonance imaging, your own soulful technology, a way to see accurately who you are inside, and how you yourself might be an instrument of peace. An engine of love. A magnet of kindness. A compass for truth.
How does one do this? How does one still all of those cells? For the record, scientists say we have 37.2 trillion cells in our bodies. That’s a lot to still! But of course there are ways, and they might start with putting down your phone (but not before finishing “Now You See It”! Heavens.) Stare up at the sky and the shape-shifting clouds. Savor a glass of wine, which came from the earth. Cuddle with your cat or dog on the couch, languorously, without either of you expecting anything of the other. (They teach us how to do this for free.)
Said another way: find a stillness, sometimes by letting the stillness find you. Once that happens, don’t be afraid of the vibration that the world then tumbles down all over you, as it surely will. Instead, see it as spiritual resonance happening, and strive not just to be happy, but to see who you really are. In this way, you may truly find peace in your heart. And in this way, you may find that you can do your part to build a more peaceful world, a world that really is just one big magnet, itself desperately trying to hold us close. Let’s remember to stop once in a while, and let the world hold us still and tight. In that precious moment, even if only a split second, not just we, but the world itself, may be at peace.
Behind the curtain
“Now You See It” is a labor of love. If you are enjoying it and think you know someone else who might enjoy it as well, please share this or another post with them using the embedded links and suggest they subscribe. New subscriber notices tell me this is resonating with folks, and confirm what I suspect: that there is a desire out there for new language to help make sense of the world as it evolves and our own unfolding within it. All my thoughts stem from being a magician; some began back in Mrs. Bradstreet’s third-grade class. If you think they’re worth sharing, please share, and don’t be afraid to get a conversation going by commenting below. We may all be surprised—and delighted—with what resonates there.
I love to read your inspirational messages, they are magical and make me smile. Thank you!🤗