Essay Two - When Science Began Asking the Same Questions
Science does not replace curiosity. It gives curiosity a language.
For many years, I believed the questions I carried belonged only to my own clinical journey. They had emerged quietly in neonatal units, consulting rooms, and countless conversations with patients shaped by moments that rarely appear in textbooks: the silence beside an incubator, the way a person’s breathing changed during a difficult conversation, the gradual softening of a nervous system that finally seemed to experience safety.
I assumed these were simply observations gathered through practice. Over time, I realised they were also becoming questions for science.
A Widening Scientific Lens
During the past three decades, remarkable advances have transformed our understanding of the human brain. Neuroimaging, developmental neuroscience, trauma research, psychophysiology, and the study of human attachment have expanded our knowledge in ways that would have been unimaginable when I first began practising.
This growing body of research has not diminished my respect for medicine. It has deepened it.
Yet it has also revealed something equally important: the human experience cannot always be understood by studying the brain alone.
Increasingly, researchers are exploring the relationship between the brain and the body, between physiology and emotion, between relationships and development, and between attention, awareness, and the nervous system. The questions are becoming broader not because science has abandoned precision, but because the human being has proven to be more complex than any single discipline can fully explain.
I assumed these were simply observations gathered through practice. Over time, I realised they were also becoming questions for science.
What Developmental Science Taught Me
One area that particularly captured my attention was developmental neuroscience. Working in neonatal care had left me wondering how early human experience begins to influence the developing person — and modern developmental science has begun exploring these same questions.
The earliest relationships between infant and caregiver appear to influence emotional regulation, stress responses, attachment, and aspects of later development. Rather than viewing development as purely genetic or purely environmental, researchers increasingly recognise a dynamic interaction between biology and experience.
This naturally led me towards attachment theory, developmental psychology, and the emerging science of epigenetics. These fields do not suggest that our future is predetermined. Rather, they remind us that human beings develop within relationships.
Experience matters. Connection matters. Safety matters.
Voices That Shaped the Inquiry
As my reading expanded, I encountered the work of clinicians and researchers whose contributions helped me articulate questions I had been carrying for years.
Bessel van der Kolk explored how overwhelming experiences can influence not only memory and emotion, but also bodily responses and patterns of regulation. His writing encouraged many clinicians including myself to think more broadly about trauma, not simply as an event, but as an experience that can influence the whole person.
Eugene Gendlin’s exploration of the “felt sense” fascinated me. He suggested that human understanding is not always conceptual sometimes it begins as something quietly sensed before it can be fully described. For me, this resonated with years of clinical practice in which I often found myself listening not only to words, but also to posture, breathing, movement, silence, and the subtle qualities of presence that accompany every therapeutic encounter.
Peter Levine’s work added another dimension. His emphasis on physiological regulation and the body’s responses to overwhelming experience encouraged me to think less about eliminating symptoms and more about restoring adaptability. Healing, in this view, was not simply the absence of distress it was the recovery of flexibility, of connection, and of the nervous system’s capacity to move freely between challenge and safety.
More recently, my conversations with neuroscientists, including colleagues exploring interoception the way we perceive signals arising from within our own bodies deepened this inquiry even further. It suggested that awareness itself may be an important component of wellbeing. Not awareness as philosophy. Awareness as biology.
The Boundaries Between Disciplines Are Softening
As I continued following these developments, one pattern became increasingly clear: the boundaries between disciplines were beginning to soften.
- Neuroscientists were becoming interested in meditation.
- Psychologists were exploring embodiment.
- Trauma researchers were studying the nervous system.
- Psychiatrists were investigating altered states of consciousness.
Researchers were asking questions about compassion, attention, connection, and human flourishing that, until recently, were often considered outside mainstream scientific inquiry.
None of this means that science has reached final answers. Nor should it. Good science continues asking better questions.
A Shared Inquiry
Perhaps that is what excited me most. For the first time, I felt that my own clinical inquiry was no longer unfolding in isolation. Around the world, researchers, clinicians, psychologists, neuroscientists, and contemplative scholars were beginning to ask remarkably similar questions not because they shared identical philosophies, but because they were encountering the same complexity.
The more we learn about human beings, the less convincing it becomes to divide health into isolated categories:
Mind. Body. Emotion. Relationship. Meaning. Environment.
Each influences the others. Each forms part of a living system.
From Treating Disease to Understanding Flourishing
Perhaps this is one of the great shifts taking place in contemporary healthcare. The question is no longer simply, “How do we treat disease?”
Increasingly, another question is emerging:
How do human beings flourish?
That question would eventually lead me beyond contemporary science and towards another body of knowledge that has been asking similar questions for thousands of years not to replace science, but to continue the conversation.
That is where the inquiry now turns.
