Wellness in the 2020s

© 2023 by Dr. David B. Meredith, D.Ac.

When I was in graduate school, my dear friend and mentor, the infamous Bob Duggan, talked about wellness as distinct from health. Health, he proposed in the electrifying tones of a revolutionary in a beret, does not exist. Our idea of health comes from the numbers generated by the most people (usually white men) in double-blind experiments, the data from medical equipment and the particles in their blood as they are exposed to quantifiable stimuli. These are in turn applied to the rest of us, as if we are interchangeable robots on an assembly line, by physicians who behave more as technicians.

But these numbers (Bob continued) are abstractions, based upon the trend of reductionism in modern medicine. We study molecules in the body as separate from every other molecule in the body, from every thought of the mind, from every interpersonal relationship, from every variation in the natural landscape, from every time of day or season of the year.

Health, he said, is meaningless. The ideas that our body does not contain a mind or spirit… that we can live within a certain set of assigned parameters… that it is somehow desirable never to have a symptom… are preposterous. We must focus on wellness, which he defined not as an achievable goal, but as an active practice of observation, awareness, connection, groundedness in nature, empowerment to change.

"Your body is wise!" Bob would thunder.

It was the central principle of our school: "Your body is wise. Your symptoms are your teachers." Everything our body does, every symptom it makes, arises in the presence of something. We can navigate living by peacefully observing our body's responses and actively choosing our behaviors and moods to modify them desirably. In this way, we can be well even if our numbers lead our physician-technicians to declare we're in the poorest of health.

Numbers are abstractions.

And words are also abstractions.

When Bob Duggan talked about wellness, he referred to holistic empowerment. At that time, labeling your business a "wellness center" was a way of distinguishing your philosophy beyond the mere tools and techniques you employed. It was a raising of awareness. It was a higher goal for every unique individual who walked in the door.

Almost twelve years ago, I called my acupuncture practice Very Well because not only did I think it was funny (I kept picturing Bette Davis snapping those words in her classic mid-Atlantic accent), but because it was a focus I wanted to achieve for every new client, a journey to commence, a potential to realize.

“We can navigate living by peacefully observing our body’s responses and actively choosing our behaviors and moods to modify them desirably. In this way, we can be well even if our numbers lead our physician-technicians to declare we’re in the poorest of health.”

Today, wellness is the catchphrase of every convenience store, cannabis shop, and nail salon. I recently stayed at a hotel that promoted itself as a champion of wellness because they put fresh juice in its cocktails (although to be honest this is a service I'd also love to offer in my office). It's a word that's used in advertisements to make you feel they care about your whole life while they only really care about how much more they can charge you for this thoughtfulness.

As a society, our preferred words and meanings change, and that's fine. English is a living language. We'll work out the branding issues later.

But our society itself has changed so dramatically in just a few short years. The ongoing pandemic, the deranged political climate, the increasing detachment from a commonly observed reality.

Is it possible to be well, using Bob's definition of the word, under these conditions?

Can we be well individually if our society is sick?

In some wisdom traditions, it's inconceivable to separate a person's well-being from that of the larger forces around them. The treatment for the individual is through the community, and the treatment for the community is through the individual.

I like that. I believe in it.

Watch this space for more.