Something has changed
Some want to understand a change in sleep, digestion, skin, energy, sexuality, hormones, recovery or mental clarity.
Some want to understand a change in sleep, digestion, skin, energy, sexuality, hormones, recovery or mental clarity.
Others are well and want to preserve — or deepen — what they already have.
Some are looking for something harder to measure: more desire, more confidence, more intimacy, more curiosity, more pleasure — a greater sense of aliveness and of being fully present in their own lives.
I am interested in all of it. I want to understand what changed, what came before it, what the body has been adapting to, and what might help restore what has been lost.
The person before the protocol
To chronology, language and repetition — what is emphasised, what is avoided, and what is passed over quickly. I listen to the voice too: its rhythm, breath, hesitation, resonance and change, particularly around certain memories or experiences. These can reveal clues, never conclusions.
Breath. Posture. Movement. Gaze. Tension. Constitution. The way someone inhabits their body — and how that changes as they speak. These can reveal clues, never conclusions.
Objective information helps ground subjective experience. Laboratory testing and other measurements can reveal biochemical, physiological and functional patterns — but no result can define the person.
The value is not in collecting more information. It is in understanding what matters, seeing how the pieces connect, and translating them into something useful for this particular person.
Desire is not separate from health. Neither are intimacy, pleasure, or the way we inhabit our own bodies.
Tone, rhythm, resonance and vibration.
Constitution, morphology, proportions, posture and movement.
Mood, desire, fear, curiosity, intimacy, behaviour and how a person responds to life.
Meaning, purpose, connection, creativity, music, beauty — what gives a person a sense of aliveness beyond the physical.
Experience, relationships, culture, trauma and the events a person has had to adapt to.
Hormones, nutrients, metabolites, inflammatory markers and other lab findings — important measures of what circulates, but never the whole picture.
The internal and external conditions in which physiology is unfolding.
Electrical, rhythmic and other biophysical phenomena offer another lens through which to observe the living system.
Before I receive your laboratory values, I am already listening and observing.
The body carries information. Proportions, posture, movement, muscularity, facial structure and morphology can all offer clues to hormonal, constitutional and physiological patterns. I look for relationships between them — patterns worth investigating, never boxes to put people in.
I then bring these observations into conversation with laboratory findings and the person’s story — testing my first impressions, challenging them, refining them and sometimes discarding them. The body becomes a living map, not a diagnosis.
Modern medicine has become extraordinarily sophisticated at reading the biochemical body: hormones, enzymes, metabolites, nutrients, inflammatory markers and molecular signals. These measurements are indispensable, but they are only part of the picture.
A living organism is also electrical, rhythmic and dynamic. It generates gradients, oscillations, fields and signals. My work in Russia and Siberia introduced me to scientific and clinical traditions in which this second lens — biophysics — has long occupied a more prominent place.
Not instead of biochemistry, but alongside it — another lens through which to understand the same living system.
It began long before naturopathy. At thirteen, I became preoccupied with a question:
That curiosity led me first into seven years of Freudian therapy, beginning at thirteen, and later into anthropology. I wanted to understand myself, other people, other cultures, other ways of seeing the world.
Later, a loss changed the direction of my enquiry. Understanding the human being was no longer only an intellectual question. I began asking different questions — about the body, health, recovery, why one person adapts while another does not, and what helps us regain resilience.
Eventually, I understood that these were not separate enquiries.
First I tried to understand myself. Then other people. Then the body. Then the mind. Eventually, I understood that body, mind and spirit cannot really be separated.