When Data Isn’t Enough: The Missing Language of Meaning, Connection, and Joy

“You’d think that biologists, of all people, would have words for life. But in scientific language our terminology is used to define the boundaries of our knowing. What lies beyond our grasp remains unnamed.”
— Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer

I’m currently reading Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants, and that passage really spoke to me, because I’ve experienced it.

It’s an especially meaningful message to reflect on for Indigenous People’s Day.

She writes:

“To name and describe you must first see, and science polishes the gift of seeing…. But beneath the richness of its vocabulary and its descriptive power, something is missing — the same something that swells around you and in you when you listen to the world. The language scientists speak, however precise, is based on a profound error in grammar, an omission, a grave loss in translation from the native languages of these shores.”

She shares the Anishinaabe word puhpowee as an example, which means “the force which causes mushrooms to push up from the earth overnight.”
Western science has no equivalent word.

This omission — this loss of something magical and important — mirrors what I’ve witnessed (and lived) in veterinary medicine, health, and success.

In our effort to do things “right,” we’ve been taught to chase metrics and ignore what can’t be measured.
We push through exhaustion. We follow “shoulds.”
We measure productivity, but not fulfillment.
And we’ve lost touch with the unseen forces that actually sustain us: meaning, connection, and joy.

As a veterinarian, I value the scientific method deeply.
But I’ve also learned that data doesn’t tell the whole story.

There are things we can’t quantify, yet they matter deeply:
✨ The way your heart expands when your work aligns with your values.
✨ The energy you feel when you wake up rested and fulfilled.
✨ The quiet pride when you go to bed knowing you lived in integrity.

The modalities that have helped me most in healing — like hypnosis, acupuncture, and reiki — were the ones I initially dismissed because I didn’t understand them scientifically.

Now I’ve learned: it’s not about either/or.
It’s about honoring both — the science and the soul, the head and the heart.

Colonialism and hustle culture taught us to equate success with control, ownership, and external validation.
But true, sustainable success comes from within.

To redefine success, we need to reconnect with what can’t be easily measured but makes all the difference:
our bodies and inner wisdom, our purpose, our values, our sense of belonging, and awe for the magic — like the puhpowee — that adds richness to life.

That’s what the Aligned Success Reboot is about:
Combining the science of how your brain and body work with the wisdom of what your heart needs to feel whole and reconnected with what truly matters.

It’s a space for kind, driven humans to come together in an inclusive, forward-thinking community to heal, grow, and innovate — without burning out in the process.

If this message resonates with you, you can learn more here and join the waitlist so we can start a conversation to explore if this is right for you.

Because the most powerful forces — in life, in health, in leadership — are the ones we can’t measure, but we can feel. 

What’s something you’d love to see us bring back into how we define success — something we can feel, even if we can’t measure it?

In your corner,

P.s. I share this with deep respect for Indigenous wisdom traditions that have long understood what Western science often misses — that everything is connected.

While reading Braiding Sweetgrass, I feel both grounded and deeply saddened by the wisdom that was so callously erased.

Imagine if the colonizers who arrived on these lands had led with compassion, curiosity, and connection instead of judgment and control.

Just as my experience with burnout reconnected me with what truly matters, I hope that the current state of our world can be a similar turning point — a collective invitation to return home to our bodies, each other, our planet, and the things that can’t be measured but make all the difference.