A Scientific Reflection on Natural Principles

Inspired by Mark Hyman and Norman MacLean

In every discipline worth mastering, there is a convergence of art and science. I reflected on this thought as I steered my truck eastward over the cascade mountains with Ruby—my loyal Labrador—panting in the back passenger seat, while the city gave way to open land and sky.

We were heading to Lake Lenice, a desert lake cradled under the stoic shadow of Saddle Mountain, to fly fish for rainbow trout. Two fly rods, an inflatable pontoon, and a box of hand-tied chironomids and balanced leeches rattled in the back. In the background, Sturgill Simpson’s voice sang softly over the speakers—the perfect accompaniment for leaving the constructed world behind for one orchestrated by nature’s own laws.

Reaching the lake is itself a tutorial on environmental biology: crossing dunes shaped by ancient winds, breathing in pungent oils released by sun-warmed sagebrush, hearing the calls of red-winged blackbirds and the high cry of an osprey riding thermals. Nature speaks in thousands of small ways—and functional medicine, like fly fishing, depends on learning that language.

Observing Before Acting

When you first set out on the lake, you do not impose your will; you inquire. You observe water temperature, clarity, insect hatches, and the activity of the fish. These are data points, just as I’ve watched skilled clinician take notes, interpret lab results, identify nutrient deficiencies, and pick up on subtle biomarkers when evaluating a patient. Fly fishing, like good healthcare, is not about casting blindly; it’s about crafting a hypothesis and testing it patiently.

Precision Tools and Personalized Treatment

Choosing a fly is not unlike designing a personalized treatment plan. You consider the ecology: What insects are emerging? What stage are they in during the hatch? What is the trout's metabolic demand at this time of the seasons and water temperature? Just as in functional medicine, where the treatment must match the patient's physiology, environment, genetics, and lifestyle, the fly must match the trout’s immediate biological imperatives.

I tied on a size 16 black and red chironomid—a consistent performer in this lake’s food chain. Dropping the fly into the water, I let it descend to its natural environment just inches off the bottom, the sweet spot where water temperature, oxygen levels, and feeding behavior converge. It is not unlike regulating blood sugar to optimize mitochondrial function in a fatigued patient: balance one variable, and others fall into place.

The Moment of Connection

The first strike came subtly—a faint twitch of the strike indicator and tightening of the line, almost without notice. Hook set, rod bent, and a vivid rainbow arced into the air. I reeled the fish in, admiring its vibrant colors, clean lines—an organism perfectly tuned to its environment. Then I released it, knowing that sustainability is essential, whether we are talking about ecosystems or human health.

Systems Thinking on Water and in the Clinic

Fly fishing, like functional medicine, is a systems-based endeavor. It recognizes that outcomes are not isolated events but emerge from complex interactions: the nutrient density of aquatic insects, the barometric pressure shifting overhead, the invisible web of gut flora in a patient, the inflammatory load induced by processed foods. Success depends not on treating symptoms or catching isolated fish but on understanding the system as a dynamic, interconnected whole.

Later, as Ruby and I sat in the boat on the lake eating lunch, I thought about how both disciplines require humility. The trout may refuse every offering; the patient may not respond immediately. There is no guaranteed formula, only a commitment to inquiry, to partnership with natural principles, to persistent, intelligent adaptation.

Healing as Collaboration, Not Conquest

Driving home, the mountains receding in the mirror, I felt renewed. Both lakes and bodies have their rhythms, their cycles of injury and restoration. When we listen—truly listen—we realize that healing, like fishing, is not an act of conquest, but of collaboration.

In the end, functional medicine and fly fishing are two sides of the same truth: Nature has already written the textbook. Our job is simply to read it carefully, respectfully, and with as much wonder as we can muster.

Whether you're wading into a lake or welcoming a new patient, success doesn’t come from casting wildly. It comes from aligning your heart, your skills, and your message with the real, felt needs of the people you serve—and adapting with humility and intelligence.

If you're ready to bring that same clarity and intentionality to your patient journey, messaging, or marketing strategy, let's talk. Whether it's through fly fishing or functional medicine, the principle is the same: listen first, then act with precision. Click the button below and I'll help you get started!

P.S. If you'd like to simply chat about fly fishing or have any related questions, please reach out and lets connect...