What Does Healthy Look Like in This Season of Your Life?

I've been thinking about the word healthy today. We use it all the time. Healthy food. Healthy weight. Healthy habits. Healthy lifestyle. Get healthy. Stay healthy. But what does it actually mean?

And maybe the better question is: What does healthy mean to you—right now, in this season of your life?

Because I don't think “healthy” is a fixed address. We talk about health as though someday we're going to arrive there. We'll reach the right weight. Get the right lab numbers. Nail the morning routine. Eat the right foods. Exercise the right amount. Sleep eight hours. Drink the water. Manage the stress.

There. Healthy.

Except human bodies—and human lives—don't work like that. They change. And so do we.

We spend an enormous amount of time trying to get back somewhere. Back to my old weight. Back to the body I had before menopause. Back to how I felt before the injury. Back to what I could do at 30. Back to the workout routine that used to work.

But health isn't necessarily about getting back. Sometimes health is learning how to live extraordinarily well from here.

A healthy day for someone training for a marathon might include a ten-mile run.

A healthy day for someone recovering from surgery might include walking to the mailbox.

A healthy day during an incredibly demanding season of life might be eating a nourishing dinner, going to bed early, and deciding the workout can wait.

None of those is inherently “more healthy.”

Health has context. And health requires adaptation.

We're often sold the idea that adaptation somehow means we've lowered the bar.

I used to be able to...

I should still be able to...

This used to work...

But what if adaptation isn't failure? What if adaptability is actually one of the strongest expressions of health? 

Adaptation is totally a superpower.

Your body changes. Your circumstances change. Your hormones change. Your responsibilities change. Your capacity changes. Your priorities change. Health isn't stubbornly insisting that the old prescription continue working.

It's being willing to ask: What does this body, in this life, in this season need from me now?

That's a damn good question.

And health includes overcoming life's obstacles. Someone who has learned to live well with a limitation, illness, injury, disability, loss, or major life change isn't necessarily less healthy because their body can't do something another person's can.

There's resilience in adaptation.

There's health in recovery.

There's health in accepting reality without surrendering possibility.

There's health in learning what you can do instead of spending your life mourning what you can't.

And I think there's another piece of this conversation we don't talk about enough: Health should support your life—not become your life.

If your pursuit of “health” means you're constantly anxious about food, obsessing over numbers, declining dinners with friends, beating yourself up over missed workouts, buying seventeen supplements because somebody on Instagram said your mitochondria are broken 😂, and perpetually believing your body is a problem requiring correction... we should probably be willing to question our definition of health.

Maybe health isn't perfect optimization. Maybe it's having enough physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual capacity to participate fully in your own life.

To work.

To play.

To love people.

To think clearly.

To move in ways available to you.

To recover when life knocks you sideways.

To enjoy dinner.

To sleep.

To laugh.

To grow.

To adapt.

And sometimes—to sit your ass on the deck with a cup of coffee because that is what supports you today.

I spent this week at an off-site team gathering pouring energy, love, and laughter into our team. Travel, hotels, dinners, planning, sleeping in a bed that’s not mine, leading, learning, sharing... and I loved every minute of it.

But today, back home after a week of travel, health doesn't look like chasing a bunch of metrics for me. Nah. Today, health looks like rest. Nourishment that serves my body. Time in nature. Petting my dog. And enjoying some time doing absolutely nothing in silence.

YES PLEASE. That's what healthy looks like for me today.

So maybe the question isn't: How do I get back to who I was?

Maybe it's: How do I take extraordinarily good care of the person I am now?

What does healthy look like for you in this season of your life?

Not ten years ago.

Not according to your watch.

Not according to the scale.

Not based on the size of jeans you wore in high school (seriously!)

Not according to the person you follow online.

Today.

Because maybe health isn't something you finally achieve.

Maybe it's a relationship you keep learning to have with yourself as you change. ❤️