When the Root Cause Isn’t One Thing
I talk a lot about root cause medicine, but I think—like many things—we may have swung a little too far to one side of the pendulum in our search for answers.
Root cause medicine has risen in popularity because the symptom-based model of Western medicine often falls short. How many of us have had this experience?
Most doctors genuinely mean well, but too often their immediate solution is to treat the symptom rather than ask why it’s there:
You have high cholesterol → puts you on a statin.
You have anxiety → prescribes an SSRI.
You have acne → gives you antibiotics or topical creams without addressing gut health or hormones.
You have high blood pressure → adds another medication instead of exploring stress, diet, or sleep.
You’re fatigued → tells you it’s “just stress” or “getting older” with zero solutions, instead of checking thyroid, nutrients, or inflammation.
Seven of the Top Ten leading causes of death are considered lifestyle diseases—in other words, largely preventable with lifestyle changes. (SOURCE)
Yet too few doctors (or patients) focus on lifestyle at all. Yes, symptoms matter, but the real work begins when we start asking why those symptoms exist in the first place.
That’s how the demand for Root Cause Medicine was born. It’s where we dig deeper, looking beyond the single symptom to the entire system.
But here’s the problem: there’s rarely only one root cause.
The Obvious Cause
Take my back, for example. Monday morning, as I was leaving the sauna, I bent down to grab my water bottle and felt something disconnect in my low back. I immediately sat down until I could breathe through the pain. I could walk... kinda... but the next two days I spent barely able to move at all.
So, what was the root cause of this injury?
The easy answer: I worked out that morning and did a lower-body exercise I’d never done before called the “Good Morning.” You hold a weight against your chest, hinge forward until your upper body is parallel with the floor, then stand back up.
I have a bulged disc in my lumbar spine and have injured this area twice before, so I’m always careful. My form was good, I felt no pain during the movement, and I’ve been doing deadlifts without issue.
Still, a new exercise, several days of inactivity, and a rushed warm-up... on paper, that’s a clear cause.
Simple. Logical. Case closed.
But was that the cause, or just the trigger?
The Deeper Layers
The truth is, the body rarely reacts to just one thing.
I've been doing a lot of fascial work on myself recently. Sunday evening, as I lay in bed, I worked on unwinding tension in my jaw and neck. But it kept feeling stuck, like my body was protecting something deeper.
The next day (right after I hurt my back), my somatic therapist noticed a strong connection between my jaw, neck, and low back. I saw my Bowen therapist on Tuesday and she also noticed the same connection. To me it makes sense. The lordotic curve in the cervical spine mirrors the one in the lumbar spine. When there’s dysfunction in one, it often echoes in the other.
So, did it all start in my neck and jaw? Possibly.
But I also know that the body holds emotion, and this week has been emotionally charged. My only son turned 21 this week. He’s growing up, likely moving out soon, and stepping into his own life. It’s beautiful and bittersweet. A massive chapter in my life is closing. We’re about to be empty nesters.
And beneath the pride and joy, there’s grief and memories of his birth and the trauma surrounding it.
Did that emotional layer contribute? Almost certainly.
Then there are the physical factors:
Weakness from old car accidents and two decades as a massage therapist.
Less movement lately—tight fascia loses elasticity and stability.
Lower collagen as I age and not supplementing enough to replace it.
Perimenopausal hormonal shifts that affect ligament and tissue strength.
Poor sleep in the days leading up to the injury, limiting my body’s repair time.
It’s rarely just one thing.
The Bigger Picture
This is where we run into problems with the “root cause” mindset—it can imply there’s a single origin. But the body doesn’t work that way. It’s a web, not a straight line.
Most of the time, it’s the accumulation of little things—stress, posture, nutrition, hormones, emotions, movement, and rest—that eventually push the body past its threshold.
And after more than twenty years in this field, I always circle back to the same truths:
Eat nutritiously
Move your body
Hydrate
Get quality sleep
Address your stress
They’re not flashy. They’re not new. But they work.
Because healing isn’t about chasing the one thing that went wrong. It’s about building a lifestyle that allows your body to do what it’s already trying to do: heal and thrive.
So if you’re searching for root causes, start with the roots of health itself. Because no protocol, supplement, or therapy can outwork a body that’s undernourished, sleep-deprived, dehydrated, or chronically stressed.
When you take care of the basics, the deeper healing work actually has a foundation to build on.
And if the basics feel overwhelming, start small. You won’t do it perfectly, and you’ll have off days. But it’s the accumulation of consistent, caring choices—the decision to honor your body’s needs—that makes the biggest difference over time.
Imagine how different we’d all feel if we stopped viewing self-care as a burden, and instead saw it for what it really is: a privilege.
At least, that’s what I’m carrying forward with me as I allow my body what it needs to heal.