"Be quick, but don't hurry."

During my prime time adjusting hours, I must always remember this.  Keep my mind focused enough, my heart calm enough, my hands in flow enough... to do this.

Without quickness, I disrespect my patients' time.

But by hurrying, I disrespect not just their time-- but their trust and their loyalty.

As the father of a teenager, I've  noticed that nothing exemplifies this wisdom more than the way Karisa will have a favorite song on the radio today... but in two weeks or less she will have grown to hate it.

"I can't stand that song anymore!"  she'll say.

"Why?  I thought that was your favorite."

Rolling her eyes, she says, "I'm sick of it.  They play that song so much over and over and over again." 

As a chiropractor, I must safeguard myself against this type of familiarity trap every day.  Seeing patient after patient lying prone on the adjustment table and palpating spine after spine after spine may slowly transform a love of chiropractic to drudgery.  Familiarity.  Routine.  Boredom.  Any of these sets in and I am doing a diservice to all my patients.

So what is the antidote?  How do we prevent the AT40 hit song from dropping out of the charts?

Make every time the first time.

See things with "new" eyes.  Listen with "new" ears.  Touch with "new" hands.

This may be my 50th adjustment for the day, but I'll look at it like it's my first.  First ever.

This may be the 157,453rd adjustment of my career, but I'll look at it like it's my first.  First ever.

Whether it be economic, political, environmental, physiological, social, psychological...

SPIRITUAL.

Why do we wait until the crisis?

Why do we wait until after the damage has been done?  Before we act!

I, myself, know the deal.  Procrastination is easy.  Comfortable like a nice long nap after Church.  I make my lists, I define my values, I study, read, think-- and sometimes I do good and I do well.  Checking things off, progressing, doing the kaizen, and all that.

But many times I fall short.

We all do, I suspect.

So how can I judge my patients?  Who am I to judge my peers?  Those I love, those I respect, don't they deserve my compassion and understanding despite the WAIT, the PUTTING OFF, the DELAY

as the crisis boils, builds pressure, and finally explodes. 

PAIN IS WEAKNESS LEAVING THE BODY

This has kinda stuck with me in the back of my mind since then.  I've often reflected if this slogan, in some way, can apply to chiropractic care.  When a person experiences pain, does he or she become a stronger person because of it?  Like the Marine who abuses his or her body to become a soldier of great strength, does anyone who experiences pain automatically get to have some weakness run out the back door?

Maybe if the pain is self-inflicted for a higher purpose.

Maybe if there is perserverance despite the pain.

Maybe if the pain teaches patience.  Instills wisdom. 

But perhaps, after all, this is only just a catchy t-shirt slogan that does not really merit such contemplation.

Still, I ask, through chiropractic, can I strive to help my patients take that pain and take whatever subluxated weakness underlying the hurt may be, and work the adjustment to help transform that pain into strength?

Weaknesses into strength (because of, in spite of, through...) PAIN? 

"If we are not humble, we tend to demand that faith must also bring with it good health, peace of mind, good luck, success in business, popularity, world peace, and every other good thing we can imagine...  If we insist on other things as the price of our believing, we tend by that very fact to undermine our own belief."

Believe and have faith: expect the win.

Believe and have faith: accept the loss.

Humility is the key.

I'd take his swing.

Would you rather have Tiger's swing or his heart.

I'd take his heart.

Lack of patience.

In this world of instant gratification and the "I want it NOW" attitude, many (not all, but many) patients expect that relief should happen right away following the chiropractic adjustment.  When expectations are not met right away, these folks will dismiss chiropractic as something that doesn't work or they will blame the doctor saying, "He just couldn't get my spine to crack the right way."

The solution to this is to explain very carefully to these people that healing takes time-- that getting adjusted is not like popping a painkiller, relief is not guaranteed to happen in seconds, minutes or even hours.

More like days, weeks and months, as the body heals from the effects of subluxation.

The catch-22, however, to this problem-- the conflicting practice of chiropractors that perpetuate this fallacy (and I am often guilty of this, too)-- is found in those special moments when we deliver that perfect adjustment with that certain, special something and the patient leaps off the table amazed that the pain that HAD been there for so long is instantly gone.  Instant relief!  Miracle!

And we as chiropractors humbly rejoice with our patients who are so thankful that the suffering has seemingly disappeared.  We act as if, yes, this is how the adjustment should be.  This is what the adjustment does.  Instant relief!  Miracle!

Like popping a painkller...

Mixed messages we send to our patients and also to ourselves.

EXCEPT YE REPENT YE SHALL ALL LIKEWISE PERISH!

Now I could only get a quick look as we zoomed on by, but I could see clearly that he was preaching.  Preaching with passion.  And his audience was captive-- only because they had to stay around or else chance missing their bus.

And I started to wonder.

Either this guy has such faith, such a strong conviction to his beliefs that he can summon the courage to stand in front of strangers, speak from the heart, risking retaliation and ridicule from an angry mob...

or else dis guy stay small kine nutz.  ka-ray-zeeee, li'dat.

Who am I to judge, though?  Am I to admire his bravery or smirk at his insanity?

Who am I to say?  To many in Hawaii, the way I practice chiropractic with the Honor Box is cause for a similar evaluation:

That thing Dr. Shiraki does with the Honor Box, is that courage or mental defect? 

How'd they do it?

The way Ray Allen, KG and the Truth and company pulled it off was truly, truly impressive.  But the man who gets most of the cred in my book was Coach Doc Rivers.

Because one, he kept them calm.  He got them to stay patient.  Even when an embarrassing blowout seemed to be in the making, no one in green panicked.  Two, He switched up the game plan.  They went "small" in the third and spread the Lakers across the floor.  Shooters got open and got hot.  And three, Doc Rivers knew that they could and would score, that they would have their runs.  So even when they were way behind, he didn't yell at the players to SCORE SCORE SCORE.  Instead he told the boys to focus on the stops.  Focus on the D.  Get that ball back.

Like the Celtics in that first quarter, many small businesses are getting slammed in this economy and things are getting scary.  But what if we could apply the principles behind the Boston victory into working out a biz comeback for ourselves?

Just as Doc preached to his players, let's stay calm.  Let's be patient.  Let's ask ourselves how we can tweak things.  What strategies are no longer working?  What new strategies will?

And we need focus on our defense... meaning that instead of going all desperate to find new customers with anxious advertising and hasty marketing, we should make sure that the back door is shut and stays shut.

In other words, we don't lose the customers (or patients or clients, whatever the case may be) who are with us right now.  The "scoring" of new business will come, but every business owner must pay very careful attention and offer the best customer service to those great folks who are already with us.  Let's not lose someone due to neglect on our part.  Let's not see our customers walk out the back door.

It worked for Boston.  Now the NBA Championship seems inevitable.

Time for our comeback.  Time now for our win. 

And den I start to think about my grad party.  22 years ago! 22 years!

Time flies so fast.  I look to my left at Karisa, my daughter.  Turn the other way to Eriko and say, "Four more years.  Only four more and we're throwing Karisa's party."

My wife gives me this blank stare.  It takes a while for that to sink in.  And she feels like I do.

Old.

But not in a regretful, apprehensive type of way.

More instead of that aged, premium blending of grateful nostalgia swirled with calm anticipation.  No better place to feel like that, to feel old, then one good kine grad party!