Good morning, Friends,

Recently, I was telling someone that I just felt... off.

It was difficult to describe. A few weird things had happened in my body; I wasn't feeling quite like myself, and I was simply sharing what I had noticed.

Almost immediately, the suggestions started.

Maybe you ate something you shouldn't have.

Maybe it was this.

Maybe you need to do that.

I finally, and politely, asked them to stop.

I wasn't looking for advice. I was simply sharing what I was experiencing.

The moment stayed with me.

Not because this person had done anything wrong. They care about me. They wanted to help.

Something was uncomfortable for me, and their instinct was to make it better.

That's a very human thing to do.

And I started wondering...

When did having an experience become having a problem?

And why, when someone shares an uncomfortable experience with us, are we so quick to start looking for what's wrong?

We analyze. We suggest. We troubleshoot.

Often it comes from genuine care.

But perhaps there is something else happening, too.

We are uncomfortable with discomfort.

Not only our own.

Other people's discomfort can make us uncomfortable, too.

Someone we love is hurting, and we want to take the hurt away.

Someone is grieving, and we search for the right words.

Someone is frustrated, and we offer a solution.

Someone tells us they don't feel well and we start searching for the reason.

We want to help.

But sometimes our impulse to help moves us right past something much simpler:

Listening.

Can I allow someone to tell me what they're experiencing without immediately needing to change their experience?

I know how to look for problems.

I've spent nearly two decades studying health and the human body.

I've learned to ask questions.

What changed?

What might be contributing?

What is the body responding to?

Those questions can be incredibly valuable. I genuinely love the curiosity and discovery in this work.

But I've also become incredibly good at turning that investigative lens on myself.

What did I eat?

What did I do differently?

Should I stop this?

What am I missing?

When you've spent years learning about all the things that can influence health, there is almost always something else to investigate.

Another food to restrict.

Another exposure to consider.

Another layer to uncover.

Without realizing it, caring deeply about my health could become monitoring myself for what needed fixing next.

And that's what I've been questioning.

What if discomfort doesn't always mean something is wrong?

Of course, discomfort can be important information.

Symptoms can offer clues. Patterns can be worth exploring. Sometimes our bodies need support, and sometimes our choices need to change.

I still believe deeply in being an active participant in our health.

But I'm becoming increasingly interested in how we enter that exploration.

Do I begin with:

What's wrong?

Or can I begin with:

What's happening?

One begins with a conclusion.

The other begins with curiosity.

Maybe health can be more like an ongoing conversation.

We notice. We listen. We respond. We try something and see what happens.

Sometimes we discover an important connection.

Sometimes support is needed.

And sometimes we simply allow an experience to be an experience for a while.

I can care deeply about improving my health without making myself a problem to solve.

And the same is true for the people who seek my support.

Perhaps part of truly listening—to another person and to ourselves—is developing a little more capacity to be with discomfort before deciding what it means or what we're supposed to do about it.

So this week, I'm sitting with a different question:

Can we allow ourselves—and each other—to have an uncomfortable experience without immediately deciding that something needs to be fixed?

Maybe notice what happens when you try.

And if you decide to experiment with this yourself, hit reply and tell me what you notice. I'd love to hear how your experiment goes.

In curiosity,

💞 - Michele