Discernment in a Culture of Certainty

We live in a culture that often loves certainty and quick fixes. We are surrounded by promises of the next great thing. That one easy answer, that one product or practice that will finally fix what feels difficult, uncomfortable, or unresolved. Sometimes an easy solution truly does help. At the same time, much of life is not that straightforward. Many of the choices we make each day ask for more than a quick answer. They ask for attention, honesty, and discernment.

We see this in the way many things are marketed to us. The message is often urgent and loud: buy this now, discover the hidden secret, use this one thing and everything will change. There is very little space for slower questions. What is this really offering? What are the ingredients, teachings, or methods behind it? What might it support, and what might it not support? Is this truly right for me, or am I being pulled by fear, pressure, or the promise of an easy answer?

Herbs are a good example of this. Traditionally, lavender is associated with calming the nervous system, supporting rest, and easing tension. Many find it soothing and others may not experience it that way. The piece that is often left out is that herbs are not one-size-fits-all. A plant that supports one person may not support another in the same way. Our bodies, temperaments, health histories, stress levels, medications, daily rhythms, and lived experiences all matter.

I learned this many years ago, during my herbal studies. I was attending an apprenticeship weekend with a deeply experienced herbal teacher, someone whose knowledge and presence I respected very much. During that weekend I came down with a severe migraine and could barely function. In her kind and caring way, she made me a cup of herbal tea and prepared a bath with lavender and essential oils hoping it would help.

What happened, however, was the opposite of what we had hoped for. Instead of easing my migraine became worse. For another person, that same tea and lavender bath may have been exactly what they needed. For me, at that moment, it was not. That experience stayed with me because it taught me something important: a remedy can be traditional, well loved, and helpful for many and still not be the right fit for every person and every situation.

This did not make my teacher wrong, and it did not make lavender a bad choice. It helped me understand that the body has its own language, and part of discernment is learning how to listen. Even when something is offered with care experience and good intention, we still must notice how our body responds. An herb that soothes one’s nervous system may feel overwhelming to another. Something that brings ease in one season of life may not be what we need in a different season of life.

This is why I believe we need to be mindful of blanket statements, whether we are speaking about herbs, energy work, bodywork, spiritual practices, training, or even products. There is a difference between offering information and promising an outcome. Discernment gives us room to ask better questions. Instead of asking, “What will fix this?” we might ask, “What is this inviting me to notice?” “How is my body responding?” and “Is this truly supportive for me right now?”

As herbalists, practitioners, teachers, or simply people caring for ourselves and those we love, perhaps our role is not to proclaim certainty. Perhaps our role is to offer possibilities. We can say: this is what traditions teach us, this is what modern research suggests, and this is what I have observed. This allows space for each of us to listen deeply to our own experiences.

The plants offer us guidance, not guarantees. Tradition gives us a place to begin but it is not always the final or end destination. Discernment invites us to slow down, to listen, and to stay in relationship with what we are choosing. It asks us to not blindly follow another's certainty. It’s asking us to cultivate a relationship with plants, with our bodies, and that quiet wisdom that lives within.

Healing is rarely a cookie-cutter experience or a follow the list from A to Z. Healing is about being present. It is a conversation that allows us to learn our own language, our own rhythm, and our own way.