A Unified Theory of Wellness in Medicine: Curiosity, Kairos, and Grace

I’ve been out of training just long enough to start thinking about the long term. Over the years, I’ve sat through countless wellness talks and curricula, each with its own prescriptions: resilience workshops, mindfulness modules, burnout prevention checklists. Some were useful, many felt hollow. None fully captured what I’ve come to understand about how we sustain ourselves in medicine. So, I’ve started developing my own way of thinking — a kind of unified theory of wellness.

The other night, I sat on the porch for the first time since moving here. The air was perfect — not too hot, not really chilly either. My husband and I watched people walk by, listened to the birds, and talked. Nothing urgent, nothing scheduled. Just being together.

It felt like liquid time, the kind of moment where the clock drops away. Later I remembered there’s a Greek word for this: kairos. Unlike chronos — the linear time of calendars and deadlines — kairos is time outside of time, the opportune moment, the kind of pause that feels like a gift.

Inviting Kairos

You can’t summon kairos the way you punch a clock. It doesn’t obey effort or demand. But you can invite it. You can create spaces where it’s welcome — by slowing down, softening your pace, lingering a little longer.

Kairos time can’t be commanded. It comes as grace — a quiet reminder that I am more than the clock that rules me.

That evening on the porch was kairos. So is watching my cats in a sunspot, melted together in a beam of light. These moments can’t be forced, but when they arrive, they restore me.

Curiosity as a Vital Sign

If kairos is a gift, curiosity is the sign that I’m well enough to receive it. I’ve noticed that curiosity is the first thing to go when burnout creeps in — the canary in the coal mine. When I’m exhausted or overextended, my questions dry up. I stop wanting to learn, explore, play.

That’s why I think curiosity is one of the best metrics of mental health. It’s not only a measure of wellness, it’s also a practice that sustains wellness. To stay curious is to stay open to life.

Mindfulness as Curious Endurance

So where does mindfulness fit in? I think we often misunderstand it as sterile calmness, a blank mind. To me, mindfulness is much simpler: it’s the practice of remaining curious while uncomfortable.

Restless in meditation? Be curious. Hungry, anxious, tired? Stay with it — not to fix it, but to see it. Mindfulness is a way of holding discomfort gently, asking questions instead of recoiling. It’s what makes room for kairos to slip in.

Food as Spiritual Practice

I also believe food is part of wellness in a way that’s both practical and spiritual. Eating isn’t just fuel; it’s memory, texture, community, story. When I accept food as spiritual, I eat with curiosity. I notice flavors, origins, the act of sharing.

Meals, too, can open into kairos when approached with attention.

A Theory of Wellness

When I put all this together, I see a theory of wellness forming:

• Curiosity is the canary. Its presence or absence tells me how I’m doing.

• Mindfulness is curious endurance. It keeps me open even when life is uncomfortable.

• Kairos is the gift. I can invite it but never command it. When it comes, it restores me.

• Food is spiritual. Eating with curiosity connects me back to the world and to myself.

  
  

Wellness, then, is not about perfection, or squeezing one more habit into the day. It’s about staying open enough to be curious, slowing down enough to invite kairos, and receiving those timeless gifts when they arrive.

Closing

On the porch that night, with birdsong and street sounds in the air, kairos found me. It always comes unannounced, and always feels like grace. My job is simply to make space, stay curious, and be ready to recognize the gift when it arrives.

Curiosity is the path into kairos. And kairos is where curiosity learns to breathe.