Tag: wellness journey

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There Are 200 Ways to Do a Thing: Find What Works for Your Health

Finding something that worked doesn’t mean you’ve found the only thing that works. Something happens when people experience a dramatic improvement in their health. They get excited. Of course they do.

Imagine being told you’re facing a terrible prognosis. Imagine living with something you’ve been told is chronic, progressive, or unlikely to improve. Then you begin doing something different.

  • Maybe you dramatically change your diet.
  • Maybe you begin using an herb.
  • Maybe it’s a nutritional protocol.
  • Maybe it’s a medical treatment.
  • Maybe it’s a natural-health regimen.
  • Maybe you change twelve things simultaneously and have absolutely no idea which one mattered most.

But something happens. Your health improves. Perhaps dramatically. And suddenly you want to stand on a chair and announce:

“THIS IS IT!”

“I found it!”

“This is the answer!”

“This is the cure!”

I understand that enthusiasm. But after spending enough time around natural-health people, you eventually discover something humbling:

There are 200 ways to do a thing.

Your Testimony Is Real. It Just Isn’t Everybody’s Road Map.

Suppose you’ve experienced something extraordinary.

  • Your doctors gave you a frightening prognosis.
  • You went home.
  • You investigated.
  • You made changes.
  • Months or years later, you’re doing remarkably well.

That’s your story. Nobody needs to take that away from you.

  • If you experienced it, you experienced it.
  • If your laboratory results changed, they changed.
  • If imaging changed, it changed.
  • If your symptoms disappeared, that’s what happened.
  • If you’re still standing ten years after somebody predicted you wouldn’t be, you’re entitled to be rather enthusiastic about that.

But there’s a subtle leap we sometimes make:

“This worked for me.”

becomes:

“This works.”

And then:

“This is what everyone with this condition should do.”

Those are three different statements.

Your experience may have discovered one road. It doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve discovered the only road. And here’s an even more humbling possibility:

Your road might not even be the best road.

It may simply be the road you found. That’s okay. A road that gets you somewhere is still enormously valuable.

One Successful Experiment Should Make Us Curious

I actually think a successful personal experiment should make us more curious, not less.

Suppose someone drinks dandelion-root tea three times a day and over three years experiences the improvement they were hoping for.

Wonderful.

  • Could something else have produced the same result? Possibly.
  • Could another approach have done it in eighteen months? Maybe.
  • Could something have accomplished it in six months?

We don’t know.

  • Could the tea have been only one factor among several? Certainly possible.
  • Could the improvement have occurred for reasons the person never identified? Also possible.

None of those questions require us to ridicule their experience. They simply keep curiosity alive.

Natural health becomes much less interesting when discovery turns into dogma.

The Problem With “The One Thing”

Human beings love singular answers.

  • The food.
  • The herb.
  • The supplement.
  • The detox.
  • The exercise.
  • The protocol.
  • The doctor.
  • The molecule.
  • The cure.

One answer is comforting. Two hundred possibilities are messy. But biology is messy. Two people can receive the same diagnosis and have remarkably different histories.

  • Different genetics.
  • Different diets.
  • Different nutritional status.
  • Different microbiomes.
  • Different medications.
  • Different environments.
  • Different exposures.
  • Different stress loads.
  • Different ages.
  • Different sleep.
  • Different activity levels.
  • Different underlying conditions.
  • Different resources.
  • Different beliefs.
  • Different willingness to change.

Why would we automatically expect every one of those people to follow precisely the same path?

Don’t Study Yourself to Death

Now we reach the other extreme. Once you realize there may be 200 ways to approach something, you can become paralyzed by possibilities.

You read about approach number one. Interesting. Then number two contradicts number one. So you investigate number three. Someone says number four changed their life. But a podcast tells you number seven is better. Then you find an online group devoted to number twenty-three. A practitioner tells you they’re all wrong and you need number forty-eight. Six months later, you’ve created a spreadsheet comparing 132 approaches.

You’re about to begin investigating number 133. And you’ve done absolutely nothing. At some point:

DO SOMETHING.

You can spend all your time studying the 200 ways to do a thing and wake up dead while you’re researching number 133.

That’s deliberately provocative. But the point matters. Research is useful.

Research without action can become another form of avoidance.

Pick a Reasonable Starting Point

You don’t have to know the perfect answer before beginning. Find a reasonable starting point. Evaluate the risks. Understand what you’re doing. Consider interactions and contraindications.

For serious medical conditions, know what can be objectively monitored and involve appropriate professionals where needed.

Then begin.

Not twenty things at once if you can avoid it. Something.

Pay attention. Keep records. What changed? What didn’t? How do you feel? What are your measurements showing? Are your symptoms improving? Are there unwanted effects? Are objective markers changing? Does something need adjusting?

That’s experimentation.

Feeling Better Matters

I deliberately like saying things such as:

“I don’t need a medical test to tell me I’m feeling less worse or more better.”

Yes, I know. Less worse. More better.

I said it that way on purpose. Because subjective experience matters.

  • If you used to wake up exhausted and now you wake up refreshed, that’s information.
  • If climbing the stairs hurt and now it doesn’t, that’s information.
  • If you had headaches four days a week and haven’t had one in a month, that’s information.
  • If you couldn’t sleep and now you’re sleeping seven hours, that’s information.

Your experience of living inside your body counts. But it isn’t the only information available.

Sometimes the Body Whispers While the Numbers Scream

This becomes especially important with serious conditions.

  • You can feel perfectly fine while blood pressure is dangerously high.
  • Blood glucose can be moving in the wrong direction before you recognize obvious symptoms.
  • Some cancers can progress without announcing themselves through daily sensations.
  • Kidney and liver problems can develop quietly.

So when reliable objective measurements exist, use them. That’s not surrendering your natural-health independence. That’s gathering more data.

If I’m experimenting, I want more information, not less.

  • How do I feel?
  • What does my body seem to be telling me?
  • What does the laboratory work say?
  • What does imaging show when appropriate?
  • What changed before the improvement?
  • What changed before deterioration?

All of it becomes part of the investigation.

Listen to your body—and use instruments when your body can’t tell you the whole story.

Build Your Own Road Carefully

This is where natural wellness can become deeply personal.

Maybe you discover that changing your diet helps. Keep it. Then you add something else and notice additional improvement. Keep investigating.

Maybe movement makes another difference. Maybe correcting a nutritional deficiency changes something. Maybe an herb does. Maybe better sleep produces a bigger improvement than the expensive supplement you were convinced would save the world.

Maybe something you were excited about does absolutely nothing. Fine. Let it go. Your goal isn’t to remain loyal to your theory.

Your goal is to get better.

That distinction can save you enormous amounts of time and money.

Combination Doesn’t Automatically Mean Better

There is one caution here. Once natural-health people discover several promising things, there’s a temptation to combine everything. If one is good, twelve must be spectacular. Not necessarily.

Natural substances contain active compounds. Supplements can interact with one another. They can interact with medications. More isn’t automatically better.

And when you change fifteen things simultaneously, you may have no idea which one helped—or which one caused a problem.

Experimentation should include restraint.

Add thoughtfully. Observe. Document. Adjust.

Your 200 Ways Aren’t My 200 Ways

Now we return to something important from our previous conversation. Suppose you found your thing. You’re excited. You tell me. Wonderful. But maybe I’m investigating something else.

Don’t be offended. Your thing may not be on my radar. Maybe I’ve already considered it. Maybe I’m not comfortable with it. Maybe I’m working with somebody whose approach differs from yours. Maybe something else makes more sense to me. Or maybe I’m simply not ready.

That doesn’t invalidate your experience. And my lack of interest doesn’t require you to intensify the sales pitch.

Remember:

Your testimony is an invitation, not an obligation.

Tell me what happened to you. Tell me what you learned. Answer my questions if I ask. Then allow me to cut my own path.

Sometimes Love Belongs in the Protocol

There is another natural intervention that doesn’t come in a bottle. Love. Support. Human connection. Hope. Being listened to. Having somebody beside you who isn’t constantly correcting you. Knowing somebody cares whether you make it.

None of that guarantees recovery from disease. But don’t underestimate what supportive relationships can mean to a human being going through something frightening.

Sometimes the most helpful thing you can offer isn’t another protocol. It’s presence.

“I’m with you.”

“I respect your decisions.”

“If you want to know what I did, I’ll tell you.”

“If you choose another road, I still love you.”

That may be more supportive than overwhelming somebody with another stack of research.

There Are 200 Ways to Do a Thing

I don’t know whether there are literally 200. Maybe there are twenty. Maybe two thousand. That’s not the point. The point is humility.

What worked for me is not automatically the only thing that can work for you.

So learn from other people’s experiences. Study. Ask questions. Use professional expertise where it’s useful. Pay attention to your own experience. Use objective measurements when they can tell you something your senses cannot.

Choose a reasonable starting point. Do something. Observe. Adjust. Keep what genuinely helps. Discard what doesn’t.

And never become so devoted to your favorite answer that you stop looking for better questions. Because finding a way is wonderful.

Just don’t confuse it with finding the only way.

There may be 200 ways to do a thing. You don’t have to investigate all 200 before you begin.

Find one reasonable road, start walking, and keep your eyes open along the way.

 

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You Can’t Want Wellness for Someone More Than They Want It

Stop financing, convincing, and chasing the people you love. I’ve spent thousands of dollars buying natural-health products for people I love. I knew what I had experienced. I’d heard the stories. I’d seen enough over the years to become excited about possibilities that other people simply couldn’t see. So naturally, when someone I cared about was struggling, I wanted to help.

 

Here’s the painful part: More than once, I’ve had the opportunity after someone died to see some of those same products again. Unopened. Unused. Sometimes expired. Sitting there among their belongings at an estate sale, available for pennies on the dollar.

There is something profoundly sobering about seeing something you once purchased with so much hope sitting untouched after the person you hoped would use it is gone. Eventually, I had to learn something:

You cannot want wellness for someone more than they want it for themselves.

Love Makes Us Want to Rescue People

It’s understandable. Someone you love is hurting. You’ve discovered something that you believe has helped you or someone else.

Maybe you’ve experienced improvements personally. Maybe you’ve watched other people experience remarkable changes. Maybe you’ve spent years researching something they’ve never heard of.

From where you’re standing, it seems obvious. If they would just try this.

So you send them an article. Then a video. Then another article. You explain the science. You tell them somebody’s testimony. You buy them the product. You create a protocol.

You call three days later: “Have you started it yet?” No. A week later? Still no.

Now you’re frustrated. They’re irritated. And something that began as love has quietly become a campaign.

Stop.

Seriously. Stop. Not because you don’t love them. Because you do.

Their body belongs to them. Their health decisions belong to them. Their beliefs belong to them. Their timing belongs to them. And ultimately, their life belongs to them.

Natural wellness cannot be imposed upon another human being.

They May Not Hear What You Think You’re Saying

This can be particularly difficult for people who have spent years in natural and alternative health. You’ve accumulated an enormous amount of information. The person you’re talking to hasn’t.

You may think you’re saying:

“I love you. I’ve learned something that might help. Would you consider looking at this?”

But that isn’t necessarily what they’re hearing.

They may hear:

  • “You think you know more than my doctor.”
  • “You think I’m making stupid decisions.”
  • “You don’t respect my choices.”
  • “You’ve fallen for some weird health thing.”
  • “You’re trying to frighten me.”    Or simply:
  • “Oh no. Here we go again.”

And once somebody has placed you into their mental category of the kooky natural-health person, sending them another 47-minute video isn’t going to help. Neither will fourteen research papers. Neither will the testimonial from your friend’s cousin. Neither will another bottle appearing mysteriously on their doorstep.

Persuasion has a saturation point.

Beyond that point, more information frequently produces more resistance.

Don’t Fight Their Doctor Through Them

This is another trap. Maybe their physician strongly disagrees with the natural approach you’re discussing. Maybe the doctor has warned them against it.

You may believe the doctor’s assessment is mistaken. Fine. But now imagine the position of your loved one.

On one side is a credentialed medical professional they’ve trusted with their health. On the other side is you, telling them the doctor doesn’t understand this.

Now they’re not merely considering a supplement, dietary change, or alternative approach. They’re being asked to decide whom to trust. That’s an entirely different psychological problem. And the harder you push, the more threatening the decision can feel.

You don’t have to win that contest. In fact, refusing to compete may preserve the relationship.

Tell Your Story. Don’t Turn It Into Their Prescription.

There is nothing wrong with sharing your experience. Actually, I think personal stories are often the gentlest way to introduce someone to an unfamiliar idea.

  • “I started doing this because…”
  • “I noticed something interesting…”
  • “This helped me…”
  • “I’ve been researching…”
  • “I had an experience that surprised me…”

Then stop. Short. Sweet. Anecdotal. No conversion campaign attached. You’re planting information, not demanding agreement.

If they’re curious, they’ll ask another question. That’s your invitation. Answer that question. Not the next seventeen questions you wish they’d asked.

That’s an important discipline.

Someone asking one question about natural health does not necessarily mean:

“Please download your entire belief system into my brain.”

Meet their curiosity at the size at which it arrives.

Let Them Come Back

This is where things can get interesting. Six months later they may ask:

“What was that thing you mentioned?”

Now the conversation is different. Why? Because they initiated it.

Maybe something changed. Maybe their current approach isn’t giving them the results they wanted. Maybe they saw somebody else’s experience. Maybe they read something. Maybe they’ve simply become curious.

Whatever happened, a door opened from their side. Walk through gently. Don’t kick it off the hinges. Answer what they’re asking. Let them think. Let them investigate. Let them disagree. Let them leave and come back.

If natural wellness is going to become part of their life, it needs to become theirs, not yours.

And Please Stop Buying It for Them

This may be the hardest rule for natural-health enthusiasts who express love by helping.

Don’t buy the products for someone who isn’t already committed to using them.

I’ve learned this one the expensive way. It feels loving to remove the financial obstacle. Sometimes it is. But before spending your money, ask a revealing question:

Would they spend their own money on this?

If the answer is no, pay attention.

Money is one of the clearest indicators of priority we have. Look at almost anyone’s spending history and you’ll quickly discover what matters to them.

Housing. Food. Cars. Entertainment. Children. Pets. Travel. Hobbies. Coffee. Technology. Clothing. Convenience. Health.

Whatever receives someone’s resources is telling you something about what currently occupies space in their life.

That doesn’t mean somebody has to be wealthy to care about health. Nor does it mean people aren’t forced by circumstances to prioritize necessities over wellness products. But discretionary spending can reveal commitment.

If someone has the ability to invest in a wellness practice but consistently chooses not to, buying it for them rarely creates the missing commitment. It merely creates inventory. Sometimes very expensive inventory.

Ownership Changes Everything

There’s an enormous psychological difference between:

“David thinks I should take this.”

and:

“I’ve decided I want to do this.”

The first requires compliance. The second has ownership. And ownership matters enormously in natural wellness because, as we’ve already discussed, many natural approaches require persistence.

The person may need to remember something three times a day.

  • Change what they eat.
  • Track something.
  • Prepare something.
  • Research something.
  • Take something with food and something else away from food.
  • Continue for weeks or months before deciding whether meaningful change is occurring.

That’s difficult enough when someone desperately wants the outcome. Imagine trying to get them to do it when you want the outcome more than they do. You become their protocol police.

  • “Did you take it?”
  • “Did you do it?”
  • “Why didn’t you?”
  • “You said you would.”

That’s not wellness anymore. That’s relationship friction.

Wait for the Metamorphosis

Every once in a while, something happens. A person changes. Sometimes it’s a diagnosis. Sometimes it’s a birthday. Sometimes it’s watching someone else decline. Sometimes they’re simply tired of feeling the way they’ve been feeling. Sometimes they encounter an idea at exactly the right moment. Whatever triggers it, their relationship with their health changes.

Suddenly they’re researching. Reading labels. Asking questions. Changing their diet. Buying things themselves. Tracking results. Getting appropriate testing. Taking responsibility. Doing things you couldn’t have persuaded them to do six months earlier.

It’s almost a metamorphosis. And those of us who love people desperately want to cause that transformation for them. But we can’t.

The realization has to become their realization.

Your Job Is Smaller Than You Think

You don’t have to save everybody. You don’t have to convert anybody. You don’t have to win the argument between conventional and alternative medicine at Thanksgiving dinner. You don’t need to leave supplements anonymously on people’s porches.

You can simply live. Take care of yourself. Learn. Experiment responsibly. Pay attention. Become healthier if you can.

Share what you’ve experienced when it’s appropriate. And when someone becomes genuinely curious, be generous with what you’ve learned. But leave their autonomy intact.

There is something deeply respectful about being able to say:

“This has been meaningful for me. If you ever want to know more, I’m happy to share what I’ve learned.”

And then actually leaving it there. No pressure. No judgment. No disappointment. No sales pitch. Just an open door. Because when someone finally walks through that door on their own, you have something you never could have purchased for them.

Their participation.

And without that, even the most promising bottle in the world may do nothing more than sit unopened on a shelf.

  • You cannot force someone into a natural-wellness lifestyle.
  • You cannot purchase commitment for them.
  • You cannot manufacture their epiphany.
  • You can love them.
  • You can respect them.
  • You can answer when they ask.
  • And you can let their journey belong to them.

You can’t want wellness for someone more than they want it for themselves.