Things I’ve Been Questioning About “Medicine” (From What I Keep Seeing)

I was prompted to write this after reading a post from a practitioner—one of those posts that sounds confident enough to end the conversation, not open it.

And that’s what I want to name first: when certainty becomes a weapon, healing gets smaller.

So here are a few things I’ve been questioning—not because I’m anti-medicine, but because I’m pro-human, pro-physiology, and pro-truth.

We’ve started using the word medicine like it only means one thing: biomedical intervention.

But that’s not how the body works.

The body doesn’t check your intervention’s credentials.

It responds to inputs.

It responds to rhythm, light, sleep, nourishment, movement, breath, safety, connection, meaning—and yes, sometimes medications and procedures.

So I question the cultural habit of acting like “medicine” is owned by an institution.

Because sunlight can be medicine. Music can be medicine. Feeling safe can be medicine. Sleep can be medicine. Touch can be medicine. A slower life can be medicine.

These things are not “soft.”

They are biological. They change hormones, inflammation, immune function, digestion, and nervous system tone.

And that brings me to the second thing I question: the way science and allopathic medicine get treated like synonyms.

Science is a method—observe, test, measure, revise. Science is supposed to stay curious.

Allopathic medicine is a system—training pathways, protocols, insurance structures, liability pressures, incentives, and cultural authority. That system uses science, but it is not identical to science.

Systems have strengths.

Systems also have blind spots.

Pretending otherwise isn’t scientific—it’s ideological.

This matters, because it shapes how we interpret symptoms.

Symptoms aren’t the devil. Symptoms are communication.

Pain, fatigue, reflux, anxiety, inflammation, headaches—these are often the body raising a hand and saying: something needs attention.

Sometimes symptoms are protective.

Sometimes they’re excessive or stuck.

Often they’re both.

So yes: symptom relief can be wise. Stabilization can be necessary. I’m not here to shame anyone for wanting relief. Relief can help someone sleep, lower stress chemistry, and regain traction.

But I question the belief that symptom relief automatically equals healing.

Turning down the alarm may be part of the plan—but it’s not the same thing as addressing the source of the alarm.

And that’s where I get concerned about the automatic assumption of superiority: that if something is institutionally approved, it must be the “best” and “only” way.

An intervention doesn’t become superior because it has authority behind it.

Authority is not a biological mechanism.

What matters is what it does to the living system over time.

Some interventions are lifesaving.

Some are useful tradeoffs.

Some are appropriate for short-term crisis but harmful as a long-term lifestyle.

Some suppress signaling so effectively that a person loses contact with what their body is trying to communicate.

Some create new problems that require more interventions to manage.

That doesn’t make tools “evil.” It means we have to speak honestly about tradeoffs and stop confusing institutional status with physiological wisdom.

Because if we’re going to use the word medicine in a deeper way—medicine as that which heals—then it should support physiology at its core.

It should increase capacity.

It should restore regulation.

It should make repair more possible.

Which leads to the part that’s hardest to watch: the ridicule.

I question the way people who ask honest questions get mocked and labeled.

Science doesn’t fear questions.

Science requires them.

When questioning is treated as dangerous, what’s being protected isn’t science—it’s identity and authority.

Ridicule is a control strategy. It trains people to silence their intuition and outsource their sovereignty.

And sovereignty matters in healthcare, because healing requires trust, and trust requires consent.

So here’s where Natural Wayz stands:

We don’t worship institutions.

We don’t demonize them either.

We honor medicine that supports life—whether it comes from a hospital, a supplement, a sunrise, or a nervous system finally feeling safe enough to exhale.

And we return to a few guiding questions:

Does this support physiology?

Does this increase capacity?

Does this restore function?

Because the goal isn’t to win a paradigm argument.

The goal is healing.