
There’s a quote by Naval Ravikant that I’ve never forgotten:
“A permanent solution to a temporary problem becomes a permanent problem.”
It’s true in business, in relationships—but especially in health.
And I’m not just talking about mainstream medicine.Even in functional and integrative circles—even with all the language around “root cause”—this pattern still shows up.
I’ve lived it. I’ve worked in it. I’ve walked people through it.And it’s everywhere.
People come in saying things like:
“I’m tired all the time.”
“I’ve gained weight.”
“I can’t seem to stay motivated.”
“My skin looks terrible.”
“I’m bloated, constipated, puffy, off.”
“My sleep isn’t good—or it’s starting to fall apart.”
These are all temporary signals.But they get treated—by the person, by the practitioner, by the system—as if they’re separate, static issues to be solved in isolation.
It’s not that anyone says the word “permanent.”But the approach makes it clear:
“This is a broken piece. Let’s fix it.”
The symptom is compartmentalized.A plan is drawn up to “address it.”And suddenly, without meaning to, everyone’s operating inside the assumption that this thing is a lifelong problem that needs a lifelong solution.
The paradigm shifts without anyone noticing.And now the patient isn’t healing—they’re managing.Managing a surface-level issue that was never the real problem.Managing a loop that began as a temporary signal—but became permanent because no one stopped to listen.
Even in the functional and integrative world—where people claim to look deeper—the same pattern shows up.
Someone walks in with fatigue, low motivation, poor sleep, weight gain—and the first questions become:
“So… what do you eat?”
“How many hours are you sleeping?”
“Have you tried just making yourself do it?”
“Are you working out enough?”
These aren’t bad questions. They just come too soon.Because unless you understand the actual state of someone’s life, those inputs won’t land.
Not just what they eat—but how they eat.Not just whether they sleep—but whether their body feels safe enough to rest.Not just their workout plan—but whether they’re living in a body that’s ready to be used.
Are they overwhelmed at home?In a flat, emotionally draining relationship?Are they living in alignment with who they really are—or just performing what looks good on paper?
Now—this isn’t about solving their marriage.That’s not my job. That’s not even possible for me to do.But they can. And many do—when they’re ready.
Because once the truth is named—once the real context is seen without judgment—healing becomes possible, whether or not the external situation changes right away.
That’s my role.I’m not here to fix your marriage or rewire your childhood.I’m here to see clearly what’s shaping your physiology—so we can stop pretending the body exists in a vacuum.
This is where we begin.
Once we’re standing in what’s real—what’s actually happening in their world—then we design the rhythm.Not a checklist. Not a challenge.A living system of effort and integration.A sequence the body can trust.
And I don’t say this from theory.
I’ve worked with high-functioning, high-pressure bodies—doctors, executives, athletes, parents holding everything together.I’ve seen what lives underneath “performance”: the skipped meals, the silent resentment, the wearables that make things worse.I’ve watched protocols fail not because they were wrong—but because they were applied to a body that wasn’t ready.
This is what I’ve built my work around.Not fixing symptoms, but restoring rhythm.Not rushing in with more—but knowing when enough is actually too much.
Because that’s how healing happens.You don’t stack strategies on top of chaos.You meet the body exactly where it is—and build from there.
You give the body something it can handle.Then you pause. Let it adapt.Then you give it a little more.Then you pause again.
That’s how resilience builds.That’s how metabolism comes back online.That’s how energy returns and effort becomes easier, not forced.
Effort.Recovery.Adaptation.Repeat.
That’s the rhythm.That’s the body’s truth.
So before you label it a flaw—or chase another fix—Ask yourself:
Is this really a problem?
Or is this a message your body needs you to hear?
Let the problem finish speaking before you interrupt it with a solution.