People, I’m going to get nerdy. I’m going to talk about a subject that strikes doom into many people’s heart. I am not joking even though I am using strong language.

I am going to talk about risk factors and what they mean from a research perspective.

When the media talks about “what causes/prevents cancer” or “what causes/prevents heart attack” or any other bad disease, they are usually referring to risk and protective factors. Example number 1. We know that smoking “causes” lung cancer. What that really means is that smoking is risk factor for lung cancer. We all know people who smoked throughout their lives and never got lung cancer. And some of us know people who got lung cancer who were never smokers.

So from a research perspective, smoking does not cause cancer. Smoking is a causal factor for lung cancer. It increases the risk of developing lung cancer by quite a bit.

“Elizabeth, that means that I can smoke, not feel guilty about it, and because George Burns smoked cigars all those years and lived to 100 years-old, I won’t get lung cancer?”

No, it means none of that. George Burns beat the odds. I mean literally just that. One, he lived much longer than average. Two, he lived much longer than average given that he was a smoker. No one reasonable ever said that there is a 100% chance of getting lung cancer if you smoke or that there is a 0% chance of getting cancer if you never use tobacco products in any way.

Okay, I promised to get nerdy but I am taking it back. Let me put this plainly. You can engage in activities or behaviors that are risk factors and end up with none of the risky outcomes. Risk is relative, not absolute. You can engage in activities or behaviors that are protective factors, you can be a teetotaler, never smoke, exercise regularly, eat well, be nice to your mother, and still end up with scary diseases. Those behaviors only reduce risk they do not eliminate any risk of disease.

And come to think of it, no matter what we do, some day, we will end up dying.

Does that mean that what you do today, tomorrow, or the next day doesn’t matter?

Thanks for understanding my need to be a a psychologist nerd. Yes, we are all about the thoughts, feelings, and behaviors but as Ph.D.’s, we are additionally, all about the research. Also, guilt is when you regret doing something that is in conflict with your beliefs and values. Sometimes I wonder when we talk about feeling “responsible” for our diseases that we are really talking about shame rather than guilt. Guilt actually can be productive and helpful. I didn’t believe that for most of my life until I understood the difference between guilt and shame. Guilt refers to behaviors that we can chose to change. Shame is the feeling, “I am bad.” That’s a lot different than guilt, “Wow, I wish I hadn’t done that.” Sometimes I do things that are at odds with my beliefs and values. I don’t think that I am alone in this. I try to treat myself with compassion. I am not always successful. I try to be compassionate and patient with myself for not living a perfect life. I am not always successful.

My proposal to myself and with all kindness, to you is, “How do you want to live your life today?”

Much love and peace to all of you,


Lately, I am finding it easy to tip my toe into waters of despair. There have always been heartbreaking world problems but in this country, there are heartbreaking problems being purposefully created. Purposeful assault against vulnerable people and against our fragile Mother Earth. Oh yes, there is also the continued assault against our republic. The first anniversary of my dad’s death is coming up on July 5th. I have been feeling that, along with other personal losses, my scary past illnesses, parenting worries, for the last month.

Even for a mostly extremely lucky person like me, life is hard. Fortunately, I am able to take my toe out of the water of despair. Then I see a sliver of hope. It is a sliver but it is there. It is meaningful. It is an opportunity, fragile as it is. I would like to be more hopeful but I’m not.

Most of the day and most days, I feel energetic and happy. And then I feel the restlessness of wanting to get away. The sadness doesn’t last long, sometimes 30 seconds, other times, an hour or so. When I feel despair, it is perhaps for a few seconds. However, the restlessness stays with me. It makes it hard to do seated meditation. It makes it hard to write, which is why it has been so long since I have posted.

What I find easy, these days, is to hike. The forest is lush and green. The mountains are abundant with wildflowers. My body is gaining strength to handle steepness that I was not able to do when I was younger. Steepness gives way to vistas of nearly unimaginable beauty. The promise of a hike is enough to motivate me to put in long days of work and to get my chores done at home. I am able to free up time and space to get away.

And it’s not that I don’t think of the big problems when I am hiking because I do. But I do it while also being surrounded by a larger context of beauty and nature’s reminder of the vastness of time, space, and the ongoing life cycle. These things are bigger than me. They are bigger than our species. My mindfulness teacher talks about “residing in a larger container of awareness”. She is talking about something I don’t yet fully understand but I think I am getting gaining understanding.

I am grateful for the life circumstances that allow me to protect my hope and to protect my love of life and being. This hope motivates positive action. Thinking about problems is not the same as constructive action. It is merely grieving in place. I am learning and re-learning that I can grieve and move at the same time.

Peace to you, friends.



The first time that I learned the importance of pacing, I was pregnant. The fatigue was really challenging. I was keenly aware of myself as a limited resource. I prioritized. I still ended up doing a lot but it was stressful and work was unsatisfying in many ways. Then I became a mother and it all became too much for me. I became clinically depressed, got treatment, and took a good look at my life. I was no longer depressed and with time, my energy increased and I was able to do more work than I had previously.

In 2012, my daughter was a teen and did not need my constant attention. I was working a lot at my private practice. I worked hours that I thought I “should” even though I was working more than full time hours during most weeks. I was working at a hard pace and if I am completely honest with myself, enjoying making decent money for the first time in my life.

Later in that year, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I learned how quickly daily work schedules can be changed when they have to be. It was incredibly hard. Two years later, when I was done, I was still wiped out, though slowly regaining energy,  not to full strength, but to a higher level than before. I have not returned to full-time work since that time. I work about 80% of full time to allow for self-care.

Lately, I have been literally pacing myself. I am in training for a big hike. I am not naming it because it is a kind of hike and not really a specific hike. I want to increase my ability to hike uphill. I really enjoy hiking but I have avoided certain hikes for decades because I had trouble with elevation gain either due to injury or lack of fitness. I also had a fancy cardio test a few months ago and learned that although my aerobic capacity is better than average, my anaerobic capacity is less than average. I start building up lactic acid earlier than most. I wonder if this has always been true. It may explain why as a kid who was athletic, I hated running long distance and sports like soccer, which seemed like non-stop running. I am from Seattle and as you may have noticed, it is surrounded by mountains. There are a lot of steep hikes.

I am hiking a lot, gradually increasing the elevation of the hikes. I take photos, an activity I love to do, which also provides little breaks along the way. I am learning to hike at my own pace instead of trying to match the pace of others. Uphill, I am slow, but steady.

The frequency of the hiking is higher than before. I am going out 1-2 times a week to hiking areas. Sometimes I hike alone and other times I don’t. I am enjoying it immensely.

I do notice that it is a big difference in my level of outdoor activity. It reminded me of the second summer after my cancer diagnosis. I spent the first summer in surgeries, one after another, three total until the margins were finally clear with a right side mastectomy. At the end of the summer, I started one of many reconstructive surgeries. I had lost a summer of outdoor opportunities living in a place that has some of the nicest summers you will ever experience. By the next summer, I was bound and determined to live outdoors as much as I could, considering that I was still in treatment. We had a ball.

Two years ago, I was recovering from a SCAD induced heart attack and traveling to the Mayo Clinic. Last year, we were caring for my dad, who died in July.

At this moment, I am healthy and energetic, thanks to luck, exercise, healthy eating, yoga, and meditation. I am enjoying what I am able to do with this body of mine, which has been through a lot, and will be through more.  At this point, this pace is right for me.

April was wet but beautiful.



May has been filled with splendid views and wildflowers!


Our dear friends, Robin and Nate, were visiting from North Carolina recently. They asked a question about a parking sign they’d seen in Seattle, Robin had even taking a photo of it, “No Parking West of Here”. “We saw this weird parking sign. How do we know what direction is west?”

I thought immediately, “What’s weird about that sign? West is the direction of the Puget Sound and the Olympic Mountains. Lake Washington and the Cascade Mountains are to the east.”

My second thought was, “Oh yeah. I live here I know the landmarks.”

A life with without major landmarks is confusing. Disorientation is exhausting.

I am at a point in my life when I am establishing new landmarks. Actually, that’s not accurate. I am at a point of my life when I am mindful of the fact that I am in a perpetual state of landmark establishment.

I still think, every day, about the fact that I was diagnosed with breast cancer nearly 8 years ago.

I still think, every day, about the fact that I had my first heart attack (the second, 8 days later), nearly 2 years ago.

Despite this daily mindfulness, these landmarks have changed in my life.

I have been working hard on my mental and physical stamina. I am working hard to have a positive influence on my health. I meditate regularly. I do yoga twice a week now. I have increased my exercise and a couple of months ago, I tracked my 500th meal.

I am feeling healthier and more fit. I have had fitness testing and my cardiovascular health has improved a good deal in last last year or so.

Despite all of this, I am still considered, “obese” with my current body fat percentage, which was calculated in fancy ways. I actually think I look good. But that’s not what it is about, is it? I thought I looked good 25 pounds ago. I started working on my fitness so that I can do more of the things that I want to do and to reduce my body fat, because it raises my risk for disease.

I have used “looking good” as a landmark for so long. For so long, I didn’t think I looked good. For decades. Bit by by, I developed a better body image.

Looking good is not the same as health. I have improved my health in a great many ways. I can accept it if my current fitness doesn’t improve. I will work to see if I can improve it. I will hike, do yoga, and meditate.

I will do my best to enjoy the process, which does not require, at any time, looking in the mirror.

I will do my best to focus on what I can do right now.

Here are some photos from what I was able to do last week, hiking with John and our friends, who happen to be relatives, near Bend, OR. (Note: I appear in none of the photos because I was the photographer.)


A half century ago, Walter Mischel, a Stanford psychologist, led the classic “marshmallow study”, which was actually a series of studies. In one of them, young children were presented with a marshmallow and told by an adult that they could eat that marshmallow immediately but if they waited, they could have not one, but two marshmallows. Then the adult left the room for a short period of time while the young child was tested with one of the great tests of humanity, delay of gratification.

Delay of gratification is an aspect of motivation and I mean motivation from a neurological standpoint, not the popular understanding of just “wanting hard enough.” I could write an entire post on the pitfalls of thinking of motivation as “wanting” or “not wanting”; “caring or “not caring”; or the very damaging “being a good person” or “being a bad person”.

Motivation to obtain an immediate reward is easy. Motivation to avoid or escape immediate discomfort, danger, or something else we don’t like is also relatively easy. Both are forms of immediate reinforcement, the former is positive reinforcement and the latter is negative reinforcement.

I think about motivation a lot. Some of this is for professional reasons. I work with a lot of kids who have difficulties working for delayed rewards or to avoid delayed negative outcomes. They are most excellent at working for immediate reinforcement. If an activity is fun, they can do it for a long time. If an activity is mundane, boring, or frustrating, they do all they can do to avoid it or escape it.

Parents often don’t understand why it’s so hard for a kid to delay gratification. Why does he play video games all night? Why does she texts friends all of the time instead of doing homework? Don’t they know how important school is?

I empathize with the frustration. I also often give the parents an example. I say, “I have a Ph.D. and I am a generally very disciplined person. I want to be physically healthy. And yet for many years, I did not exercise regularly. I also have trouble maintaining a healthy weight. Food tastes really good.”

Most parents identify with this example. Working for the second marshmallow is really hard. The first marshmallow is right there, after all. Working to help avoid long-term negative outcomes is also hard. Those outcomes are a long way off and further, in the case of physical health, there are no guarantees of success in terms of extended life span.

This brings me to today’s topic, which is motivation to exercise. We’re all told to do it. I have struggled on and off with physical exercise. For the past several years, I’ve had a regular habit of exercise. I have recently “upped my game”. I want to hike more and the hiking in my area of the country is challenging because it is so darned hilly around here. I am also working to lose weight and be more fit in general. This has gotten me thinking about motivation.

First, here are some motivation myth-busters:
1) Motivation is not a moral characteristic. It is a neurological process.
2) Motivation does not have a switch that is turned on by wanting something hard enough.
3) Motivation is not fixed. Motivation is not the same for every life activity.  Even motivation to do the same activity can wax and wane. Making behaviors into habits can help but is not an absolute.
4) Doing things that are good for you in the long run but not satisfying right now is really hard.

Let me repeat that,  doing things that are good for you in the long run but not satisfying right now is really hard, especially if there is no immediate bad thing that happens if I skip it. However, it is possible to get better at this.

The hardest thing about exercising for a lot of us is getting started. Here are a few tips for reducing barriers. This is not an exhaustive list. Feel free to add your own tips in the comment section.

What exercise?
If you hate exercise, bundle it with something you like. Some people read or watch t.v. while using exercise equipment. I walk outside because I love being outdoors and it is also a good opportunity to take photos. If you are a social person, an exercise class may be a good idea. Once people are used to seeing you, they will ask you why you didn’t make it to a class! You can also do something pleasant or rewarding after exercise to increase motivation. (See below.)

Schedule your exercise. If you take a class that only meets particular times, this can be a major advantage. Time flexibility is not necessarily an advantage when you are trying to establish a new habit.

Seriously, when am I going to do this? I am really busy. I can’t possibly add another thing to my schedule.
Say to yourself, “Maybe I could do one more thing.” Or, “Maybe I don’t need to do all of the things I am doing now.” Then take a deep breath. Maybe it’s the thought of having another commitment, another thing “I should do” that is the burden and not so much the time. You do not have to marry exercise. You can have a fling and see how it goes.

How do I get started?
This is getting out of bed early to exercise before work. This is looking at the bad weather outside and going out to exercise, anyway. This is scheduling a time, the time comes, and thinking, “I can do this later.” Here are some tips that might help:

  1. Reduce the number of steps needed to get started. Lay out your exercise clothes the night before. Sleep in your exercise clothes and put your shoes next to the bed. Get fully dressed for intended morning exercise as soon as you get up, including shoes. You may be surprised at how much trouble it seems to get your shoes on after you’ve finished your breakfast and drank some coffee. If you exercise after work, change into work out gear at your work place or as soon as you get home.
  2. Build in reward for getting started. Give yourself a small square of chocolate on your drive to the gym. Treat yourself to a coffee at a drive through. When my husband and I walk together on the weekend, we stop at the local coffee shop about 15 minutes into the walk. He is highly motivated for coffee and does not like our home coffee.

How long?
You all know the answer to this. Start with what is do-able. Start small. It is easier to build up than to make your goals so high that you feel that you have failed every time you have actually done exercise.

Maybe, just maybe, you will learn to enjoy exercise. Maybe the second marshmallow will be the exercise itself. Or maybe not.

How will you know until you try?




Today, John and I went hiking on the Nisqually Delta, where the Nisqually River runs into the Puget Sound. This is a hike that my parents have taken and I recall my dad telling me about it.

It is muddy. The water is brackish. It is winter in Western Washington. The ground and the plants are dark. The sky is changeable from grays to white to peeks of blue.

This is a popular area. We see many people, mostly families with kids and gray-haired married couples. The trail is flat and wide. There are short and medium length trails. It is perfect for the young and the old. I see my past as a child learning to hike, as a mother teaching her daughter to hike, and hopefully, my future, continuing to hike with my beloved husband for many years to come.

It seems like an in-between world, between solid and liquid, earth and sky, salt and freshwater, youth and old age. I see death, in the silver tree snags that stick out from the mud. These trees will never get leaves again. I see dormancy in the live but leafless trees on the shore and in the brown bushes in and around the water.

I also, of course, notice a lot of life, when I get quiet and still. There are so many birds. Honking geese, so many kinds of ducks, gulls, waders, and those little bitty beach birds that scurry along the shore like mice when they are not flying in tight formation just over the water’s surface. Every once in awhile, I hear a frog, sounding like a cross between an animal and a one-stringed musical instrument.

Every life is in-between. It is in some moments that we are fully aware of this. Today, I see it. I hear it. I feel it. It is poignant, hopeful, sad, and sweet.

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I’m cold. I mean that literally. It is winter and I am cold.

Obvious, huh?

Not so obvious, actually. Through the miracle of insta-menopause, which was part of my cancer treatment, I was hot for a long time. I would find myself stripping down to a sports bra in February during an outdoor walk. I stopped wearing tights with my dresses and went bare-legged through many winters.

Last year, I started wearing footless leggings under my dresses. This year, I notice that my workout clothes are not warm enough. I also noticed that I have a shortage of long-sleeved dresses.

I am longing for the two sweater dresses that I gave away to charity a few years ago because I could never wear them. I always overheated.

Yes, my friends, my body continues to heal from the effects of cancer treatment and the natural hormonal changes that come with middle age. My personal thermostat is much more like it was before the years leading up to cancer when I was in peri-menopause.

Sensation continues to return to my torso, the areas of my surgeries. Although not fully restored, I no longer feel numbness when I am upright. It is odd how a lack of sensation feels very much like something, like carrying around a weight.

After nearly 7 years of survivorship, I am still healing. Perhaps, if I knew this would be the case back in 2012, I would be fearful. But today I find this to be a gentle miracle, an aging body that is better able to sense cold, pressure, and gravity.

May 2019 bring you peace and healing, dear friends.


One definition of mindfulness is awareness of the present moment. It is easy think of a mindful life as one that does not consider the past or the future. But this is not the case. Sometimes living in the moment means thinking about the past, while rooted in the present.

This is a major challenge in the grief process. The intense feelings that come with loss cannot be suppressed without negative consequences. But living in the past, living in the loss, without appreciation for the full reality of the present, is also a way to suffer and get stuck in grief.

I may have mentioned that I’ve recently started seeing a mindfulness psychologist, Bonnie. I sought out a clinical psychologist who specializes in this area and this one used to be a researcher at Fred Hutchinson’s Cancer Center at the University of Washington, doing research on mindfulness based stress reduction programs with cancer patients.

I’ve been seeing her every few weeks to keep my mindfulness practice going as well as to work on the grief of losing my dad last summer. Thanksgiving was the first major holiday we had without him. John and I hosted and I was fine until the first half of Thanksgiving Day. First I was stressed with the food preparation. When I asked John to keep an eye on the temperature of our grill for the turkey and he’d somehow let it get waaaaay too hot, I nearly cried when I looked at the burnt turkey. Then I just felt sad for a few hours.

It took me a bit by surprise. I had thought I’d been mindful of my needs. I talked to Bonnie about it and she asked, “Do you ever talk to your dad?” The suggestion caught me off guard. I hadn’t thought of doing that.

Then I was surprised that I hadn’t thought of doing that. Then I remembered that my dad was really more of a doer than a talker. I talked to Bonnie about possible conversation topics.

I visited my mom last week to help with Christmas decorations. As I was driving there, I looked at the scenery. This brought back memories of my childhood and since my dad knew these stretches of highway well, something to talk about.

“Wow, Dad. What are they building there. It looks like they are adding another highway entrance and two more lanes.”

“Remember when there used to be wetlands all along this highway? Look, there’s still a stretch over there. I see hawks in the trees over there sometimes.”It

“Hey Dad, remember that time we brought Britt [childhood dog] to the wetlands over here? She was so excited to run and swim through the water. She ignored our calling her for about 3 hours. Then she stunk to high heaven!”

“Here’s the hospital. I’m so glad you don’t have to be there any more.”

It really wasn’t as awkward as I expected it to be and it actually felt comforting. Remembering is not the same as living in the past, holding onto things and people who no longer exist. It is a way to deal with pain and a way to honor love.

Peace, friends.

I finished an 8-week-long Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) class last Wednesday. I am not new to MBSR but wanted to increase my formal mindfulness practice since it had waned over the past year, with my dad’s cascade of health problems and death last July.

It was a wonderful class. I haven’t been writing much. As my meditation practice has gotten deeper, I have longer times when I am experiencing sensation more than language. This is something I knew could happen in meditation, but as a person who typically has a running monologue in my brain, it is a rather magical and new experience. It is not, however, easy to write about.

I feel some loss about the class ending. To prevent my being totally adrift, I have also started seeing a mindfulness psychologist, Bonnie, who specializes in working with cancer patients. I had actually sought her out first, her practice was full, and she recommended the class. In the mean time, space opened up and I have been seeing her. She also happens to be a friend of my dear friend, Nancy. This is not surprising since 1) Nancy seems to know almost every other psychologist in Seattle and 2) Nancy also works with cancer patients as well as being a breast cancer survivor herself. (Nancy, you may remember, is the dear friend who cleared her schedule to be with John and I for my first breast cancer appointment, back in 2012.

I feel pretty fortunate to work with Bonnie. She is very skilled and worked for many years as a researcher at the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center. Bonnie did mindfulness classes with cancer survivors and the classes were associated with reduced recurrence.  This is why I began my mindfulness practice in 2012, by the way, after following some Canadian research on a specific mindfulness class for breast cancer survivors.

But wait, I was intending to write about endings, not beginnings. The other thing that ended was the U.S. Midterm elections.  I did a lot to prepare myself for dystopian outcomes and good thing the worst case scenario did not occur because I was not successful in my preparation. They were not horrible, not great, and maybe not even good. Not horrible. That is the current benchmark for success in current U.S. national leadership. Actually, some really great things did happen. Lots of women were elected, especially women of color. Some of the people elected were LGBT/Q. Eight scientists were elected. Two women of color who are also Muslim, were elected.

So the election ended but as I had anticipated, there is still a lot of work that needs to be done. Our republic is very much in peril and so many people are suffering. I am exhausted by the news but I am also mindful of the fact that experiencing exhaustion is one of the best outcomes of our current situation. As I said, many people are suffering from abhorrent treatment and some have died or are dying due to lack of access to basic human needs or violence.

One thing ends. Another thing begins. Sometimes it is tempting to jump from one thing to the next without acknowledging the ending. Today, I feel the endings and the beginnings. I had put myself, intentionally, in a protective shell of self-care practices for the last few months. I come out for periods of time and then retreat to a thinner shell, for a shorter period of time, but it is a shell, nonetheless.

Overall, I am doing well. Most of the time, I feel happy. In the last week or so, I’ve felt not so much a wave of grief, but a persistent lapping at my toes. I have reacted more strongly to situations than normal, for example, feeling shame at times, over minor incidents. It is as if grief takes me back to a much younger time of my life. Bonnie says that the energy I am using to cope with my dad’s death is leaving me with less to cope with the normal daily stresses and that I am going back to older ways. That makes sense to me.

Working on grief is helping me define the edges of the persistent lapping at my toes. It turns out that today, they are not lapping at my toes. I am standing in the middle of the ocean. I feel sad today and a bit angry.

I don’t like to be in the middle of the ocean but I am grateful that I am standing, for now.

Peace to you, friends. I hope you are well.



Some people call October, “Breast Cancer Awareness Month”. Others call is, “Pinktober”. Still others call it, “October”.

I don’t like the commercialization of breast cancer with the commercialization of pink things, nor do I like the sexualization of breast cancer. I don’t like the commercialization of suffering or sexism at all.

I don’t, however, give Pinktober the same kind of harsh judgement as I did in the past. Part of this is because the pink stuff is decreasing. I applaud those that work to decrease it further.

Another reason is that my physical and emotional recovery from breast cancer has gotten to the point where I can even entertain the possibility of taking a broader view.

And oh yeah, I had two heart attacks.

An oh yeah, my husband and I have reared a brilliant, talented LGBT/Q daughter from age 13 at the time of my breast cancer diagnosis to her recent 20th birthday. Her life has been no picnic.

I actually forgot until just now that my dad died three months ago.

The main reason is that the broader issues of sexism, racism, health disparities, xenophobia, heterosexism, etc. have taken priority. These are my priorities and I am thankful to have the emotional and physical health not to mention financial security to be able to make these decisions.

Mindfulness is awareness. I didn’t make that up. That’s what it is. Mindfulness is an approach to reducing human suffering. I didn’t make that up, either. That came from the historical Buddha. He also talked about the main causes of human suffering as fear, hatred, and delusion.

Fear, hatred, and delusion.

There’s a lot of that going around.

As a psychologist, I’m going to tell you that fear is a basic human emotion, needed to keep us safe. But I can also tell you that our central nervous system gives us many false alarms about safety and how we respond to false alarms can certainly cause human suffering. It can also underpin anger and at it strongest form, hatred. We can also respond to an off kilter nervous system with delusion, cognitive contortions of thought. (There are also mental illnesses that produce delusions on their own and those also cause suffering.)

I guess the biggest issue I have with the way that Breast Cancer Awareness month is that it’s not even really awareness. Awareness is mindfulness of all aspects of breast cancer, which to a certain respect, is different for all of us, based on medical differences in disease processes, treatment access, and personal, social-emotional and cognitive processes.

And certainly, awareness without constructive actions, is not very useful and if we are stuck there, thinking it is sufficient, I guess that may be a kind of delusion, too.

I hope you find my musings helpful today.



Art, Science, Heart ❥

journals of a mature student nurse

Heart Sisters

For women living with heart disease

George Lakoff

George Lakoff has retired as Distinguished Professor of Cognitive Science and Linguistics at the University of California at Berkeley. He is now Director of the Center for the Neural Mind & Society (


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