A few months ago, I had a conversation with ChatGPT that began with a simple question: Who owns it? This led to an explanation of OpenAI's unique structure, where a nonprofit oversees a for-profit subsidiary. While OpenAI claims to balance ethical AI development with funding needs, the mention of Microsoft’s $13 billion investment sparked scepticism. It raised broader concerns about how profit-driven corporations often prioritize financial gain over human well-being, especially in industries with profound societal impact.

As the conversation unfolded, it highlighted the troubling dynamics of modern technology—how addictive algorithms, data exploitation, and the push for a cashless society often serve the interests of the few. This points to a system where short-term profits frequently overshadow long-term sustainability, contributing to environmental destruction and social inequality. Yet, amidst this critique, there is a growing call for leaders and systems rooted in empathy, collaboration, and sustainability.

This conversation reminded me of an issue closer to home: the Treaty Principles Bill in New Zealand. This proposed law seeks to redefine how the government interprets the Treaty of Waitangi, a foundational agreement between the British Crown and Māori. While the Treaty was initially framed as a partnership, its history has been marred by mistranslation and systemic breaches, resulting in Māori losing land, sovereignty, and cultural heritage. Recent efforts to honour the Treaty’s principles have been a step toward reconciliation, but this bill threatens to reverse progress, narrowing the scope of the Treaty without meaningful Māori involvement.

This isn't just a Māori issue—it affects us all. If the government can undermine the Treaty, what’s to stop them from eroding other rights in the future? When my friend shared a tool to make a formal submission about the bill, it sparked deeper reflection: Is engaging with the system the best use of my time and energy?

At first, I hesitated. I’ve spent enough time "shouting at empty boats"—expending energy trying to be heard in systems that aren’t designed to listen. Over the years, I've come to realise that my efforts are often better directed elsewhere. Ultimately, I chose to focus on writing my books, which aim to inspire systemic change and reclaim sovereignty on a broader scale.

However, the importance of the Treaty feels too pressing to ignore. The Treaty is integral to New Zealand’s identity. Undermining it challenges fairness and justice, and misses the opportunity to build a richer, more inclusive society. So, I spoke up. I made a submission, urging that any redefinition of the Treaty’s principles must involve Māori in a meaningful way, respecting their role as partners in this agreement.

This experience reminded me of the delicate balance between addressing immediate challenges and focusing on long-term change. While my primary focus is on writing books like Reclaiming Healthcare and Reclaiming Education, this felt like a moment to stand up for values that matter—not just for Māori, but for all of us, and for future generations.

Then I went to watch Moana 2 at the cinema this week, and was moved by how its themes mirrored what I had just been reflecting on. The film’s messages of power, collaboration, and identity transcend its Polynesian roots, speaking to universal struggles.

Moana’s journey—her reflection on ancestors as voyagers and her reconciliation with Te Fiti—invites us to rethink how power is wielded today.

• Governments: Moana’s reminder that “We were voyagers once, daring and united” evokes the Māori concept of whakapapa, the interconnectedness of all things. Governments can learn from this, honouring past agreements and fostering collective good.
• Corporations: Moana’s reconciliation with Te Fiti reminds us of kaitiakitanga—guardianship over exploitation. Corporations, with their immense influence, must embrace stewardship, making choices that protect future generations.
• Organisations: Overwhelmed by leadership, Moana hears her grandmother’s wisdom: “The call isn’t out there at all; it’s inside me.” This reflects the Māori value of manaakitanga, emphasising trust and inclusivity. Organisations thrive when they align external missions with internal cultures, creating environments where every voice matters.
• Personal Leadership: Moana’s journey concludes not with dominance, but empowerment. She returns as a guide, helping her people reclaim their identity. Māori leadership through mana—humility, service, and connection—echoes this truth: true power uplifts others.

Answering the Call

Moana’s story reminds us that power rooted in connection, not control, can heal and unite. It’s a call to governments, corporations, and individuals alike to embrace collaboration, sustainability, and authenticity. "We were voyagers once," Moana reminds us. The question is: How will we answer the call?

For me, the answer lies in balancing action with vision. While my focus remains on writing books that inspire personal and systemic change, moments like these remind me of the importance of speaking up for the values that shape our collective future.

As we approach 2025, a time when many of us take a brief pause before diving into the new year, it’s the perfect moment for reflection. Moana 2 invites us to consider the uncharted territories in our own lives—those moments when we are called to explore or lead in new ways. Perhaps, like Moana, we are all navigating uncharted waters, finding strength in the unknown, and learning to trust in the wisdom of those who came before us.

Let’s reflect on these questions as we step into the future:

• Where in my life am I being called to explore or lead?
• How can I reconnect with the wisdom of those who came before me?
• What steps can I take to strengthen the connections in my life and community?

As Matangi, a new character in the film, shares: "There's always another way even if you have to get lost to find it." Embracing uncertainty and allowing ourselves to wander may be the only way to discover new solutions.

Moana’s own frustration, “Every time I think I know what I need to do, it changes,” highlights the value of adaptability. As we move into 2025, we must also embrace the fluidity of life’s journey. The only constant is change, and our resilience will carry us through.

The overarching message of Moana 2 is clear: “You don’t have to do it alone. We are stronger together.” In moments of uncertainty, it is our connections—our communities, families, and inner circles—that provide the strength we need.

Moana’s transformation into a wayfinder teaches us that true leadership doesn’t come from dominance, but from empowerment. Just as she embraced her role as a leader, we too must embrace our journey with courage, knowing that we will grow into the leaders we are meant to be.

As we step into 2025, may we find the courage to trust our paths, embrace change, and lean into the strength of our relationships and inner resilience. The ocean of possibilities is vast, and there is always another way—if we trust ourselves and each other, we will find it.

If you're reading this on Medium, LinkedIn, or another platform and would like to receive regular updates directly (and reliably) rather than relying on algorithms, you can subscribe to my blog to be the first to receive new posts. Each week, I share personal reflections and insights that connect what's happening in my life with the topics I explore

If you enjoyed this post, you might also like Reclaim Your Power - How to Break Free from a World That Runs You, Crafting Your Path in a Changing World - Embrace Your Uniqueness and Make an Impact and The Path to Purpose and Clarity: How Healing Transforms Your Career Goals . 

There are moments in life that naturally invite reflection. While the end of the calendar year is one of these, other moments—such as quiet evenings, the lunar cycle, birthdays, and holidays—also offer opportunities to pause and reflect.

As we approached the Full Moon in November, I was reminded of its power to illuminate what truly drives me. I’d like to share the process I went through in case it’s helpful for anyone reflecting at the close of the year.

Understanding Our Why

For me, understanding my “why” is key to living a fulfilling life. As Colette Baron-Reid has said, when we are clear on our purpose—our “why”—our intentions align naturally and become magnets for positive change. What truly matters to me isn’t just the reason for my existence; it’s the compass that guides me through life’s complexities. It connects me to my purpose, empowers me to contribute meaningfully, and ensures that I’m living in alignment with my deepest truths. Without clarity on what matters, I risk wandering aimlessly, disconnected from the joy and meaning that make life rich and worthwhile.

Though I’ve explored my values and beliefs many times, this time, I felt it was important to check in with fresh eyes and an open heart. So, I asked myself three key questions:

1. What truly matters to me?
   This question helps identify core values—the things we can’t compromise on—and anchors our “why.” For me, these include health, family, reflection, and the desire to contribute meaningfully to the world.
2. What am I ready to release to make space for growth?
   Letting go of old beliefs, habits, or expectations clears the path for transformation. Personally, releasing past emotional burdens has opened up new possibilities for me.
3. How can I align my intentions with my heart’s desires?
   This question bridges where I am now and where I want to be. By aligning intentions with my heart, I ensure my actions resonate with who I truly am.

What Truly Matters to Us

Reflecting on our “why” can reveal the essential pillars that shape our lives. When I took time to scribble mine down and then asked ChatGPT to help synthesize them into categories, this is what emerged:

• Health & Vitality: My physical, mental, and emotional well-being are the foundation of everything I do. Without them, I can’t fully engage with life.
• Time & Space for Reflection: Quiet moments to connect with myself fuel creativity, clarity, and a sense of purpose.
• Family: I am deeply committed to supporting my children’s health, education, and emotional development, providing them with stability and love.
• Partnership: A strong connection with my partner brings joy, mutual support, and companionship.
• Community & Connection: Nurturing relationships with friends and family fosters a sense of belonging and joy.
• Beauty & Practicality: A balance of aesthetics and functionality in my surroundings uplifts me and promotes sustainability.
• Safety & Belonging: A secure home and connection to the land ground me, providing a space for relaxation and renewal.
• Exploration & Comfort: Traveling to new places excites me, but I also value the comfort and security that come with these experiences.
• Contribution: Using my skills and experiences to create meaningful change is an essential part of my legacy.
• Growth & Expansion: I am committed to ongoing personal growth, integrating past experiences to live authentically and embrace life’s transitions.

These pillars guide my decisions, priorities, and how I choose to spend my time. By recognising and prioritising them, I’m created a framework for living intentionally and authentically, ensuring that each step I take is aligned with what truly matters to me.

Letting Go to Grow

​Growth often requires releasing what no longer serves us. For me, this means letting go of self-sacrifice, guilt, and old emotional burdens. Prioritising my well-being has taught me that self-care isn’t selfish—it’s essential. When we release the urge to “fix” everything, we create space for clarity, ease, and joy.

Key Questions for Letting Go:

• What am I ready to release?
  Letting go of outdated beliefs, habits, or external expectations clears the way for growth.
• How can I create space for ease?
  Shifting from “doing” to “being” aligns us with our true desires and restores balance.

Practical Practices for Releasing

Releasing can be tricky, especially when ingrained patterns have taken years to develop. There are often many layers to work through, and as we’ve spent years ingraining these patterns, the process requires a great deal of kindness and patience with ourselves. It’s not about quick fixes; it’s about gradual transformation. Here are some suggestions that can be helpful, especially when you notice old, redundant patterns emerging:

• Rituals: Write down the emotions or burdens you want to release, then burn or bury the paper as a symbolic act of letting go.
• Visualisation: Picture setting down a heavy backpack of burdens and walking forward, free and unencumbered. Imagine the weight lifting with each step.
• Affirmations: Phrases like "Carry the lessons, not the burdens" or "I am free to live lightly and fully" can be powerful tools. But for me, simply having a conversation in my head, speaking to myself as though I’m someone I love and care for, is just as healing.
• Somatic Healing: Practices like yoga, breathwork, or mindful walking are excellent for releasing tension stored in the body. For deeper work, I also turn to specific meditative practices like The Completion Process or parts work to address more profound emotional issues.

Releasing is a process, not a one-time event. Each small step we take creates more space for clarity, growth, and connection, even if the changes are subtle at first. I have to remind myself of this constantly, and to be patient with myself as I navigate this journey.

Aligning Intentions with Our Heart’s Desires

Connecting with our deeper "why" helps align our actions with what truly matters. When our intentions are clear, even the most mundane tasks can feel purposeful. Reflecting on these deeper motivations has reminded me of the incredible power of intention.

For me, my "why" is about living a life of vitality, connection, and beauty, embracing each moment—smooth or bumpy—as part of the journey. Yet, balancing this vision with everyday responsibilities can be challenging. Tasks like car maintenance or paying bills can seem like obstacles, but I’ve learned to view them as essential parts of the foundation supporting the life I want to live.

Steps to Align Intentions

1. Tune In Daily: Start each day with stillness and ask, “What do we truly need today?”
2. Reframe Tasks with Your "Why": See mundane responsibilities as the scaffolding for our vision. For example, “A well-maintained car supports my family’s stability and access to meaningful connections.”
3. Simplify and Delegate: Enlist help, automate tasks, or let go of unnecessary commitments to lighten our load.
4. Batch and Limit Tasks: Group similar activities into focused blocks of time to avoid feeling overwhelmed.
5. Create Meaningful Moments: Use “hidden” time—like commuting or cleaning—to listen to inspiring podcasts or practice mindfulness.
6. Protect Time for What Matters: Carve out even small daily or weekly blocks for reflection, creativity, or rest, and guard this time fiercely. We should not be trying to create our best life with the dregs of what’s left after fulfilling our duties. This is a key duty.

When we approach our responsibilities with intention, we shift from resistance to alignment. Each step we take supports the life we’re meant to live.

Your Invitation to Reflect

As the New Year approaches, I invite you to reflect on your own “why.” Ask yourself:

• What truly matters to me?
• Why do I care about what matters to me?
• What am I ready to release to make space for growth?
• How can I align my actions with my heart’s desires?

These questions hold the key to unlocking your purpose and living a life that resonates with your deepest truths. I encourage you to take this moment to reflect, journal, or share your insights with a community. May this moment of reflection guide you toward greater clarity, connection, and joy on your journey forward.

If you're reading this on Medium, LinkedIn, or another platform and would like to receive regular updates directly (and reliably) rather than relying on algorithms, you can subscribe to my blog to be the first to receive new posts. Each week, I share personal reflections and insights that connect what's happening in my life with the topics I explore

If you enjoyed this post, you might also like: When Life Feels Like 'A Lot' - How to Reconnect and Recharge, Reclaim Your Power - How to Break Free from a World That Runs You and Beyond the Silver Bullet - Embrace the Upward Spiral of Transformation. 

Listening to Terri Cole recently, she describes the high-functioning codependent (HFC) as someone who takes on more than their share of responsibility for others, often to their own detriment. It’s someone who appears successful and in control on the outside, yet struggles with deep-rooted patterns of people-pleasing, neglecting their own needs, and seeking validation from others, often sacrificing their well-being to maintain relationships or avoid conflict.

She said “the bandwidth that you’re bleeding for this level of over-functioning leaves you feeling exhausted, resentful, maybe a little bit bitter, underappreciated for all that you do, for all the people that you do it for in your life. You end up not fully self-expressed because you’re too busy managing everything”.

It’s a familiar role for me, one I’ve worked to unravel, yet hearing her describe it this way brought an ‘aha’ moment. It gave me a framework to revisit some old patterns I’ve been noticing – patterns that seem to show up even in unexpected places, like my car.

My not-so-old Mazda had been struggling, these modern diesel engines are designed to recirculate their exhaust emissions back through the engine and, due to a poor design, the exhaust system was overloaded with soot and may also to have been overpressurising the cooling system. I couldn’t help but wonder if my mechanical issues were nudging me at look my own inner state as well, as I could see the parallels.

Author Anette Noontil would tell me that it could indeed represent an internal pressure building up due to unresolved emotions, unaddressed issues, or stress that I've been carrying without fully acknowledging. The car’s system, under strain but without immediate warning lights, suggests that while I've been functioning well so far, there may be underlying tensions that, if left unresolved, could lead to a more significant mental, emotional or physical breakdown. 

So I started to thinking about what might be "clogging my inner world' so to speak and started looking at my inner voices. Despite all the work I’ve done—on boundaries, attachment and other healing, and personal growth—I still hear so many voices in my head: self-criticism, judgment, fear, longing. One night, when I was particularly tuned in, I caught a torrent of snippets, each carrying its own weight:”I’ve failed”, “I’m not a good enough parent”, “Why am I being so harsh?”, “You’re being unkind”, and the list went on and on.

Terri’s words helped me see how these voices, while shaped by care and responsibility, also reflect a draining of my emotional bandwidth. The more I try to keep everything together, the more I feel the strain—and the less room I have for kindness, love, and connection, especially with myself.

I’ve felt this strain physically too. Terri mentioned that as we get older, we have less tolerance for the lack of satisfaction that comes from this over functioning in relationships. Burnout is common, especially for women who are perimenopausal and hitting the wall because of all the physical changes.

Chronic stress has left its marks—weight gain, fatigue, and mood swings—but it’s also shaped how I show up in my relationships. When I look back on the romantic, more innocent and vulnerable person I once was in my younger days, I mourn the loss of her. Years of defensiveness, perfectionism, and survival mechanisms have distanced me from that part of myself. Now, in my relationships, I see how my guard goes up, even – or maybe particularly – when someone is being kind.

Taking a moment to acknowledge the enormity of what we're unpacking and giving ourselves permission to pause is invaluable. I’ve learned overwhelm is a natural part of growth, it doesn’t mean we’re starting over or failing; it means our system is processing and integrating new levels of awareness. Healing doesn’t happen in a straight line—it’s cyclical, with deeper layers revealing themselves over time. It’s okay to feel like this is a lot—because it is – and we’re allowed to take it one step at a time.

So I asked myself (or more accurately ChatGPT), when I notice the pattern, what can I do differently. Here are some questions we can ask ourselves:

1. "Am I carrying something right now that isn’t mine to carry?"
   This question invites us to pause and evaluate whether we're taking on responsibilities, emotions, or tasks that others can or should handle for themselves.
2. "What would it look like to assume love in this moment?"
   This helps us shift from defensiveness to openness, encouraging us to interpret others’ words or actions through the lens of care and connection rather than fear or mistrust.
3. "What part of me is trying to protect itself, and is this protection still needed?"
   This prompts self-reflection on defensiveness and creates an opening for trust and vulnerability.
4. "What’s the one thing that truly matters right now?"
   This question can help cut through the noise of competing priorities, aligning our energy with what feels most vital in the moment.
5. "What does the part of me that feels overwhelmed need most right now?"
   This shifts focus to nurturing ourselves rather than powering through or bypassing our feelings.
6. "What small step can I take that feels easeful and aligned?"
   Helps us release pressure of perfectionism and productivity and move forward without burning out.
7. "How can I model the behaviour I want to see in my kids right now?"
   Encourages us to embody the values and attitudes we hope to inspire in our next generation rather than directing them or solving their issues for them.
8. "How would I show up today if I truly believed everything is working out for me?"
   Grounds us in faith and alignment, countering fear-driven narratives.
9. " What would trusting myself and the process look like in this moment?"
   This question brings together themes of self-compassion, releasing control, and aligning with our deeper desires without being overwhelmed by external pressures

These questions invite us to pause, tune into our intuition, and take aligned action or rest—whatever feels most nurturing and authentic in the moment.

Perhaps what my car—and Terri’s concept of the HFC—are reminding me is that it’s okay to slow down, to clear the buildup, to stop running on fumes. It’s okay to make space for the softer, more vulnerable parts of myself. And maybe, just maybe, it’s through reconnecting with those parts that I can not only restore balance within but also show up more fully for the people I love.

Another key for me, as someone who relies so much on myself for everything, is to remember I’m not alone in this. Sure, I’ve built a foundation of resilience through personal growth, but I also now know I’m part of a larger community of people navigating similar patterns.

When I heard these words, it was the permission I needed to give myself:

“This isn’t the beginning of your journey—it’s a continuation, and you’re on a more advanced level now. Be gentle with yourself. Healing isn’t about eradicating every pattern at once; it’s about noticing them, choosing differently when you can, and accepting that transformation is a process, not a destination. You’re exactly where you need to be”.

What I needed to remember most is that overwhelm isn’t a sign of failure; it’s a natural part of the growth process. Awareness can make all the difference—it can turn a potential breakdown into an opportunity for a breakthrough.

Transformation comes when we fully engage with the struggle, embracing it rather than resisting. As Glennon Doyle wisely says, we need to "be in it" long enough to extract the lessons our challenges have to offer. Terri emphasises a key aspect of recovering from codependency is learning to hold space for discomfort—our own at others’ discomfort—without jumping into problem solving mode, and allowing it to guide us toward healing.

As I reflect on my journey and the process of unraveling these patterns, I invite you to pause and consider where you might be holding onto the weight of others' emotions or responsibilities. Healing and growth aren’t linear, and it’s okay to feel overwhelmed as you confront these deeper layers of yourself. Ask yourself:

• What am I carrying that isn’t mine to carry?
• How can I allow space for my softer, more vulnerable parts to show up?
• What small, easeful step can I take today that nurtures my soul and my well-being?
• And, most importantly, how can I be gentle with myself in this process, knowing that every step, no matter how small, is a part of my continued evolution?

Transformation happens in the moments where we sit with our discomfort and allow ourselves the grace to grow at our own pace. Your journey, just like mine, doesn’t have to be about perfection. It’s about noticing the patterns, taking action when we can, and giving ourselves permission to rest when we need it. Imagine what we could do with all that freed-up bandwidth—what we could create, how we could show up for ourselves, and the deeper connections we could cultivate with others.

If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Beyond the Silver Bullet - Embrace the Upward Spiral of Transformation, How to Fulfil Your Long Desired Yearning for Belonging, The People Who Hurt Us Are Vehicles for Our Growth and How Do I Honour What I Believe and Care Less What You Think?  To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

Does the thought of another holiday party leave you feeling anxious? As a bit of an introvert, I’ve often found social events draining—even more so when life is busy. I cherish casual, incidental interactions at work or school but struggle with purely social gatherings unless it’s close friends or family.

This time of year, invitations make my body anxious and my mind race with all the other commitments and issues in my life. It’s like a cartoon engine blowing its gasket—I feel completely overwhelmed. I feel completely overwhelmed and wonder how I’m going to steer the ship that is Shona around this particular iceberg.

Because I tend to be fairly outgoing and friendly in social settings, which is apparently quite common for a lot of introverts (and threw me off of recognising my introversion for a long time), people often don’t realise the energy cost behind the scenes. I’m one of those people who seems chatty and confident but ends up feeling like I’ve got a hangover the next day (and I don’t even drink). It’s just how I’m wired—my energy comes from quiet time, so I tend to pick and choose my peopling carefully.

It’s fascinating to see how introversion and extraversion show up differently in my kids. One thrives on social interaction like a magnet to energy, while the other is like me—appearing confident but needing quiet to recharge. Balancing these dynamics taught me the importance of understanding and honoring everyone’s energy levels, including my own.

Attempting to balance out the energy levels across a collective is more of an art than a science and it looks fabulous when I get it right, and ugly when I don’t. That said, when my mum was dying several ago now, it served as a turning point in my – what had been up to then - superwoman approach.

For a time I simply just couldn’t participate in anything other than essential tasks. My physical health took a turn for the worse, and I was definitely in the burnout zone. This of course necessitated a rethink and reprioritisation of the way I handled things, it kicked off a whole new approach to honouring my own needs and values that has led to a very different life today.

Learning how to hold my boundaries with grace has been a journey, and sometimes it’s still a bit clunky, but I’m getting better at it. Of course I don’t want people I know and communities I’m a part of to feel like I’m not interested, there’s a balance between honoring my introverted nature and exploring ways to engage meaningfully without overextending myself or feeling out of place.

Claire Zammit and Katherine Woodward Thomas's perspective on belonging offered me a helpful lens here—it’s about finding the right ways to contribute and connect that feel authentic to us, rather than forcing ourselves into spaces that don’t resonate.

Over the years, I’ve learned to protect my energy while still fostering connection. Here’s how I navigate the tricky dance of saying no gracefully while staying engaged in meaningful ways:

1. Acknowledging the Introversion: I am now clear and can embrace that I’m introverted, and fully recognise that it’s okay to prioritise my energy and well-being. It’s not about rejecting the community but choosing how and when to engage in ways that feel right for me.
2. Seeking Smaller Opportunities to Connect: Instead of large gatherings, I look for smaller, more meaningful ways to participate within my comfort zone—like having one-on-one conversations, casual chats in passing as part of the day to day routines, or helping with planning or behind-the-scenes tasks.
3. Redefining Belonging: I now know I don’t have to socialise like others in a group to belong. Belonging can also mean showing up as my authentic self in the ways I feel comfortable. Contributing doesn’t mean stretching myself thin—it might be as simple as sharing my perspective when asked or offering support in quieter ways.

To explain this perspective to someone in a group setting, I’ll use an A.I. generated guess at how one of my favourite introverts, author Glennon Doyle, would likely explain it with heartfelt honesty, vulnerability, and a touch of humor, leaning into the idea of embracing one’s truth unapologetically while still being kind to others. She might say something like this to her child’s school community:

"Thank you for putting this event together—it’s such a gift to the community! I’m a classic introvert and love connecting in smaller, quieter ways, like at pickup or playdates. Big events leave me drained and needing a day to recover, so I’m learning to honor that while cheering you on. Have a wonderful time!"

I like it because this approach acknowledges the effort of others, speaks to her truth with self-awareness, and gently explains why she might not attend without diminishing her care for the community. Obviously we’d each come up with our own version of that which feels just right for us and relevant to the situation, but it helps steer me in the right direction.

If you feel guilty for saying no to social events, remember that honouring our energy isn’t selfish—it’s essential. By understanding and embracing our needs, we can find authentic ways to connect that leave us feeling fulfilled rather than depleted. Whether it’s redefining belonging, seeking smaller opportunities to engage, or simply being honest about our boundaries, there’s power in showing up as our true self.

So next time you’re tempted to push past your limits, pause. Ask yourself what feels right, and give yourself permission to prioritise your well-being. Your energy—and your community—will thank you for it.

​If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Reclaim Your Power - How to Break Free from a World That Runs You, Do You Need to Heal Your Boundaries?, Win-Win-Win Giving and How Do I Honour What I Believe and Care Less What You Think?  To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

When my doctor commented on how unusual my approach to healthcare was, it caught my attention. He mentioned how patients often expect quick fixes like antibiotics and feel frustrated when they're not prescribed. But instead of seeking a temporary solution, I’ve always been more curious about finding the root cause of health issues—a mindset that has shaped my journey since my twenties.

This conversation stayed with me, as it reflects a broader trend I’ve noticed—not just here in New Zealand, but globally—of individuals relying more and more on quick fixes, such as medications or over-the-counter solutions, instead of seeking deeper answers to their health concerns. There’s nothing inherently wrong with medication when it’s needed, but it can sometimes feel as though the convenience of a pill overshadows the importance of understanding what’s really going on beneath the surface.

My journey toward holistic health began in my twenties when I was suddenly and inexplicably exhausted and rendered debilitated every time I left home, with constant and significant chest pains. Misdiagnoses, unnecessary antibiotics, and confusing tests left me with more questions than answers—until a doctor brushed it off as "all in my head."

While his words stung, they pointed to a deeper truth: the significant role of stress in physical health. After a referral to a psychiatrist, I was diagnosed with generalised anxiety and panic disorder, likely triggered by a string of highly stressful events in the year prior – including a stressful court case in which I was a witness and the victim of a head on collision when a driver fell asleep at the wheel, and a difficult relationship breakup. This was a pivotal moment in my life. It taught me that stress is more than a fleeting emotion—it’s a powerful force that can reshape the body and mind over time in ways we often don’t recognise.

Understanding this connection sparked a lifelong curiosity about how to address health issues at their root, rather than just masking symptoms. It became clear to me that true healing requires patience, curiosity, and a willingness to look beyond surface-level solutions.

Now, in my fifties, I find myself navigating the physical and emotional shifts of perimenopause. While it’s tempting to attribute all my symptoms to hormonal changes, my earlier experiences remind me how deeply stress can influence the body—even years after the fact. The chronic stress and trauma of recent decades—losing my mum to cancer, enduring a gnarly and lengthy separation, adapting to co-parenting, and navigating the collective stress of the COVID pandemic—have likely left an imprint I’m still working to heal.

Many of the health issues from those years, like kidney stones and migraines, have resolved through deliberate life changes, inner work, and direct nervous system support. Yet the symptoms I experience today aren’t easily pinned on perimenopause alone. I suspect they reflect a mix of hormonal changes and lingering recovery from chronic stress. Parenting two neurodiverse adolescents adds another layer of complexity, requiring ongoing emotional resilience and adaptability.

This perspective encourages me to see my health as a dynamic, evolving process. It’s not just about aging or hormones but about understanding how past stressors continue to echo in my body. Addressing my current symptoms means digging deeper into both their immediate triggers and underlying causes, with a focus on healing at all levels.

Looking back, my journey toward holistic health has taught me it’s more empowering to let go of the search for quick fixes or Band-Aid solutions. Instead, I’ve embraced the idea of listening to my body, understanding its signals, and trusting the slow, transformative process of recovery—both physical and emotional.

When a menopause specialist suggested I consult an integrative doctor because she wasn’t interested in reviewing my hormonal profile, I didn’t feel dismissed. Instead, I confidently explained that I’m firmly in the driving seat of my own healthcare. For me, it’s about integrating the expertise of trusted practitioners, each contributing their own specialisms and strengths—including hers. I simply don’t hand my health and well-being over to someone else.

This commitment to holistic health also led me to explore alternative approaches like thermography, a non-invasive, radiation-free tool that provides deeper insights into my body. After three clear mammograms and no family history of concern, I chose to switch to thermography as a proactive measure, reserving mammograms or other invasive tests for follow-ups if needed.

What I appreciate about thermography is that it looks for functional changes in the body, such as increased blood flow or metabolic activity, rather than focusing solely on structural changes that traditional imaging methods like mammography detect. Unlike mammography, thermography is non-invasive and radiation-free, which is crucial to me. The use of radiation in mammography is known to change cells in the body, potentially contributing to long-term risks, including an increased risk of cancer. Given that, I prefer to take a more cautious approach when it comes to radiation exposure, particularly since my medical history shows no major concerns like family history of breast cancer or abnormal mammogram results.

Thermography offers a proactive, preventative way of monitoring breast health without this concern. By identifying functional changes in the body before structural damage occurs, it gives me a chance to take action early, long before more invasive measures may be required. This aligns with my belief in looking beyond just treating symptoms—it's about understanding what's happening in the body on a deeper, more holistic level.

Despite the lack of mainstream support for thermography, I’ve found that it fits into my broader approach to health: prioritizing long-term wellness and choosing options that resonate with me. Mainstream medicine often places a heavy emphasis on treatment over prevention, and approaches like thermography are sometimes dismissed or overlooked. However, by integrating a range of trusted methods—ones that go beyond the conventional—I’m able to take a more empowered approach to my health, one that doesn’t rely on radiation or quick fixes.

The systemic bias against alternative approaches isn’t unique to thermography. Herbal medicine, homeopathy, and other holistic therapies face similar barriers due to a lack of funding, institutional support, and large-scale research. Overcoming these challenges requires more rigorous studies and a shift in how both the medical community and the public perceive alternative care.

Navigating these barriers as a patient has taught me the importance of persistence and self-advocacy. Choosing alternatives like thermography means stepping outside the mainstream narrative, but I’ve found that proactive, holistic care is worth the effort. By integrating insights from various tests, lifestyle adjustments, and the expertise of trusted practitioners, along with listening to my body, I’ve created a more complete picture of my health.

A chiropractor once shared a comparison that has stuck with me: “Relying solely on your doctor for your wellbeing is like taking your car to the mechanic only when it breaks down.” It resonated deeply, highlighting how reactive care often neglects the preventative maintenance that keeps systems running smoothly. Just as a car requires regular care from multiple specialists to keep it running smoothly, our bodies thrive when we integrate help from various experts who support different aspects of our health

For example, while general practitioners are traditionally seen as the “mechanics” of overall care, they often focus narrowly on medical solutions. Instead, I rely on my Heilkunst practitioner as a holistic advisor, helping me navigate physical, mental, and emotional health in an integrated way. My chiropractor works directly with my nervous system, ensuring it runs smoothly, and I schedule massages to release muscle tension and support overall wellbeing. My dentist provides annual checkups, my GP facilitates access to medical tests, and routine smear tests and thermograms help monitor breast health. Over the years, I’ve consulted with a variety of practitioners, both inside and outside the medical model, tailoring their expertise to fit my broader vision for proactive, holistic care.

This journey has taught me that true well-being isn’t about finding a single solution or following a one-size-fits-all approach. By trusting in my body’s capacity to heal and looking beyond quick fixes, I’ve discovered that true well-being lies in curiosity, persistence, and openness to alternative pathways. Whether we’re navigating a chronic condition, dealing with stress, or simply looking to feel more vibrant, stepping into the driver’s seat of our own healthcare can be a transformative act.

Mainstream medicine has its strengths, but it’s not the only road to health. By exploring alternative pathways, integrating diverse insights, and listening closely to our body’s signals, we can create a more comprehensive and empowered approach to our well-being.

So, I encourage you to reflect on how you’re currently approaching your health—are you waiting for your body to ‘break down,’ or are you actively choosing a preventative approach that nurtures your long-term well-being? Your body is your vehicle for this life, and only you can drive it. By all means, listen to the insights of others, but remember that even the most trusted experts, whether generalists or specialists, bring their own biases and limitations. True empowerment comes from understanding that no single perspective holds all the answers. Take what resonates, trust your instincts, and do what you know is right for you.

If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy You Have Amazing Options When it comes to Healthcare, Crafting a New Vision for Healthcare: How Our Personal Journeys Shape the Future, How Do I Know When a Relationship Is Healthy? and Womanhood: A Story of Our Time. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.